How it plays out: Radiation treatment and fashion sense

Monday: "Okay! Just cause you're going to the hospital everyday doesn't mean you can't look nice! Get those skinny jeans on! Let's wear some eyeliner! And your new lip gloss!

Tuesday: "Hmmm, I don't really feel like putting makeup on today, but this headband is cute. Oh, and I think I'll wear my new boots."

Wednesday: "It's cold. I don't wanna take my Uggs off. And these yoga pants are perfectly presentable."

Thursday: "I mean, it's not obvious that I slept in this shirt. I'll just put a bra on and wear it."

Friday: "Okay, so I slept in this shirt, wore it yesterday, and then slept in it again. It's not visibly dirty. Why put on a bra to just take it off again at the hospital? Where's my puffy vest?"

My friends, we are just steps away from me going in my bathrobe. Well, they mention fatigue as a primary side effect of radiation, but no one warned me of a progressive, weakening ability to give a flip about what I'm wearing/how I look. I think this issue alone needs its own ribbon. Ideas?

Smoke 'em if you got 'em...or not

This evening, I took the kids out to our local office supply store. I needed to buy an electric pencil sharpener. Which, by the way, do you have any idea how expensive those suckers are? $45 for a battery powered one! Apparently the electric ones are a couple hundred bucks? Whosa whatsa? I can't even. But anyway, that's not even what I meant to say.

As we drove, a news brief came on the radio about a prison nearby that has gone smoke-free as of today. As in, none of the prisoners are allowed to smoke anymore. Can you IMAGINE what that place will be like over the next few days? I get the shakes just thinking about it.

All Ava heard were the words "smoking" and "prisons". So she goes, "Wait, are prisoners allowed to smoke?" I hadn't really been listening to the report, so I said, "I guess they used to, but maybe not anymore. I think in most prisons they can." Meanwhile thinking...there is just no way you can realistically be prepared for the variety of topics that get thrown your way as a parent. It's a good think I took that Sociology class on Correctional Systems! The value of a liberal arts education, right there.

Then Nate says, "Well, they've gotta do something to make prison more fun." 

And it was one of those moments where you just wanna press the pause button, and truly savor, marvel at what comes out of your kid's mouth. (Maybe in fact, like a smoker savors a smoke? Not that I'd know.) Because as hilarious as that statement was...the whole idea of prison being fun defeats the purpose, right? Which Ava was quick to point out. As hilarious as it was, I totally got the heart of what he meant: Geez, those guys are locked up already. This just seems like insult to injury.

And the fact that my 6 year old son, with non-smoking parents and almost no exposure to it, interpreting it as fun? When in fact, all he's ever heard about smoking is how bad it is? Well, like I said, I was marveling.

I laughed out loud, I couldn't help it. It delighted me, in the way that something unexpected and strange does. I know it's cliche to say "I don't know where he gets it from", but I DON'T KNOW WHERE HE GETS IT FROM.  Ava scoffed at the idea of prison being fun. Nate was quiet a moment.

"Ok, then what about lollipops?", he said.

A getaway and a lesson in gestures

Last Friday, I didn't have treatment and Ava's netball game was cancelled, so we took the opportunity to get outta town for the weekend! Jason and his dad found a house for us to rent near a town on the NSW Central Coast called Hawk's Nest. The photo up there of the bay was in our backyard. I know. Such a treat.

There were hammocks in the backyard too, and Ava and Nate spent a long time there, pretending to be pirates. Even though winter is approaching, it was still fairly warm and the kids played at the beach and in the waves to their hearts' content. We ate fish and chips and pizza. And I took some naps and read magazines I found in the house from 2010. 

It was awesome. 

I shouldn't have left that crotchety sounding post up at the top for so long! Thanks for all your sweet words. I promise, I'm not wallowing in misery. We are rolling right along pretty well. I'm almost halfway through my radiation--had #14 today. Yes, it's a drag some days, and I'm extra tired but it's really okay. Plus, Jason drives me most days so we have lots of time to chat. Or not! Depending on my mood!

Yesterday, we took the kids to the shops with Jason's mom. On the way home, Nate ominously announced he "knew all about the rude finger."

I was like, whosa whatsa? And then he solemnly extended his middle finger for me to see. Such ceremony involved. 

You guys. Maybe you had to be there...it was so funny. "What makes this finger so rude?" he asked. Then he and Ava started laughing and pointing their middle fingers at each other and saying, "Watch out! I'm being rude to you!"

And then I was like, okay I better shut this down. "You guys, that is more than just rude. If you do that to someone, it's like calling them a bad name. It's offensive, it's like a bad swear word but with your hands. Don't do that anymore."

Except I think I accidentally made it sound cooler, especially to Nate. I'm sure now he's thinking, "Hmmm, how can I leverage this knowledge?" Lord, help us. 

I confess I do the rude finger from time to time. Deplorable! But mostly to
Jason, and mostly when he's being annoying and deserves it. Like when he beat me at a card game and made the face when he won. Or when points out when I'm being too dramatic. As if! That kind of behavior cannot go unanswered. So I don't think the rude finger counts in those scenarios? 

Maybe I can work it into my next sermon.

Maybe not.

Snippet

I'm feeling better now, thanks. You know how it is! So ragey and stabby! Friday, I went and bought myself 2 pairs of boots for Mother's Day. When I got home, I showed Jase and said, "I bought these shoes. You got anything to say about that?"

That's how it is. You know, don't you?

P.S. Happy Mother's Day, mamas. Boots for all!

P.P.S. Sorry about the PMS TMI.

4 down, 29 to go

I started my radiation treatments last Tuesday. They say I should have my mutant superpowers by the end of next week! So, that's nice.

In a beautifully choreographed grandparent changeover, I dropped mom and dad off at the airport about 2 weeks ago and picked Jason's parents up. So, as far as our kids are concerned cancer treatment means: lots of treats, all grandparents arriving from America, extra TV time, and people dropping off cookies at the house. It's good to be them.

So Mike and Jan happily watch Grace each morning and Jase takes me to my treatment. I could drive myself, but the parking can be a major headache at this hospital, so it's nice to have him just drop me off at the entrance.

Today was only my 4th treatment, but I felt super tired and sluggish for a good portion of the day. Fatigue is the primary side effect of radiation treatment. Well, that and the superpowers. So Grace and I sat on the couch and snuggled for a bit after her nap. That was lovely, except I was forced to watch the most irritating kids' show ever, Caillou. I hate it with the burning heat of a thousand suns. (Speaking of radiation.)

Do you know this show? I'm posting from my phone, otherwise I'd link to it. Basically it's about the whiniest, most irritating 4 year old on the planet. He fusses when his friend accidentally bumps him, he complains about his little sister, he whines about going camping, he's afraid of clowns. This kid is incapable of just enjoying life as it is. And I am like, MAN UP, CAILLOU! No, your grandpa is NOT gonna eat your veggies for you. Just deal!

I even suggested that we watch Dora instead, so you know I was desperate. But Grace prevailed, as usual. I'm pretty sure she already has superpowers.

I'm not sure if this malaise is due to treatment, or just the fact that it's Monday! Mondays are usually tired days for me. But other than that, we are trucking right along! Just getting used to a new routine for the next 6 weeks or so.

I'll fill you in on treatment more later. Let's just say, lots more people are gettin to see my boobs.

LUCKY.