Wednesday, February 27, 2008

No WBC Love

Jackson has been sick; running a fever and feeling bad since Sunday. And this morning I woke up with a fever, cough and body aches. Blah. Jackson didn't have a fever and I didn't feel bad enough to stay home, so we trucked it on into work. But we had hardly arrived when Jackson started feeling bad and crying. I wasn't able to comfort him and make him happy. He just wanted to come home, he said. I had an appointment with my oncologist at 2:30 so I took Jackson home and my Mom and Tonya came to watch him while I ran to my appointment.

I had planned to get in and out and then run Jackson in to the pedi afterwards. But that didn't happen. My counts are low again. It seems I just can't get sick like a normal person yet. When a normal person's body is fighting off a cold or the flu or whatever, their white blood count rises and reads high as their bone marrow kicks into high gear and takes care of it. Mine drops into the toilet as it struggles to keep up. So a little illness means a big-gun antibiotic, chest x-ray and follow-up blood work. I didn't finish in time to get the boy seen too. And he seemed to be doing better this evening.

I feel selfish that I didn't get Jackson in to the doc today after being sick for three or four days because I had to go to the doc after a morning of feeling sick. Especially since my Mom discovered that his pee pee is red and irritated, which could be why he was so miserable this morning. We shall see how we are in the morning. If he still isn't feeling well and has an irritated peter I'll try to get him seen. Poor baby whose mama couldn't figure out what was wrong with him.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008


New York City was a blast. We got home late on Sunday night exhausted and broke. It was a very busy four days; I am not even sure what and how much to write about the trip. So in honor of our historic appearance in the studio audience of Letterman, how about I do a top ten list?

Ten things I learned in New York City:

10. When you stand in line to get into the Good Morning America studio at 6:00 in the morning, an angry young black man will stand nearby screaming obscenities and unintelligible phrases at you. You can try your damnedest to make out what he is saying. He could be upset about Darfur or worried that Iran will become a nuclear power, but most likely he is just fricken crazy.

9. When a person dressed as the Statue of Liberty wants to take a picture with you, don't think he is doing it for the warm fuzzies. After you pose for the photo he will demand you pay him $5. As a gullible tourist, you will pay him and feel like an ass, but at least the photo is pretty good.

8. When you take your husband's picture with a Rockette, you will realize how handsome he is and you will not take it personally how great he looks standing next to her.

7. When you take a limo to the Empire States Building after a Broadway show and get to the top without having to stand in line, you will feel like a rock star. Of course, the no waiting thing wasn't because we were special, but because there was hardly anyone there. It was freezing up there, but gorgeous at night.

6. Guards at the Met have a large sense of their own power and enjoy yelling at people. Instead of posting signs like "No pictures in this room, please" they post guards nearby to yell at anyone taking pictures. And since photos are allowed in much of the museum, there are lots of people taking pictures. Berating tourists must be a sport at the Met. Beware.

5. Street pizza really is the best pizza in the world. It may look like Texas mall pizza, but there simply is no comparison. New Yorkers really know how to eat.
But if you decide to have the big breakfast buffet at the Park Central Hotel, be sure to ask how much it is first. Otherwise you might have a heart attack when you get the bill of $57 for two people to eat waffles, eggs and bacon. Ouch!

4. Snow is awesome. And I have decided I should move to a cold climate. Not because I like the temperature, but because it is so easy to look chic and stylish in a nice coat and scarf. I would catch a glimpse of myself walking past the shiny buildings and think, "Damn, I look pretty good!" In the Texas heat we wear much less clothing. And in the summer especially, it is not so easy to look good, especially for those of us pasty people. But in NYC in the winter, a tailored coat and scarf makes you look like a star. And even the Broadway dancers, who tend to wear very little on stage, are just as pasty as me. And they make it look good. No fake-n-bake! I love it!

3. A few blocks from the Empire States Building is a legitimate museum called the Museum of Sex. It has artifacts and exhibits you can walk through as an intellectual, just as you walk through the Met - except there are no guards yelling a people. And though you view the exhibits in a grown-up, classy manner, it just might make the rest of your trip with your spouse a tad bit more, um, interesting.

2.Being in the studio audience of Letterman will turn you into a dork. You will keep checking the monitor to see if you are visible and when you are you may just bop your head back and forth a little bit to see yourself move on the monitor. This will cement your status as a dork.

1. If you find yourself standing next to a wax statue of Paris Hilton, you simply must pick her nose.

If you want to see more of our NYC pics, I put the more interesting ones on Shutterfly. Take a look if you want.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

So much to say!

Man, I have been busy the last several days. I've had so much to write about, but didn't have the time or energy to do it until now. And I am not sure which thing to start with.

I guess I will start with the most recent and work backwards since tonight is still fresh on my mind.

Tonight was the Team in Training pasta party for the runners competing in the Austin AT&T marathon tomorrow. I was the guest speaker for the event and I have to say it went really well. I expanded and rewrote my speech and was able to deliver it comfortably and I felt like I really reached people. There were about 150 people there; runners and coaches and families, at the Radisson Hotel downtown. Dinner was designed for the runners, two kinds of pasta and grilled chicken breast. I sure could have used a glass of wine, but I don't think they recommend that for runners the night before the marathon. Probably better that I not drink drying wine before speaking anyway, seeing as last time I spoke I had a dry mouth issue.

I wore my tiara and sash, but the gown I was hoping to wear didn't work out. I borrowed this gorgeous red flowy gown from Ramona's. The pic doesn't do it justice, you can't see the sparkly rhinestones all over the bodice. When I tried it on there, the zipper was broken and Ronni was so kind as to put in a new zipper. I suspected that with a fixed zipper I wouldn't be able to zip it up, but I brought it home anyway to try. The bodice is very, very fitted just under the bosom and my rib cage is simply too wide for it. It just wouldn't go. Even if I didn't eat for a week, I doubt it would fit. David tried to help me zip it, but it was a no go. Perhaps with another person we could have gotten it, but I decided if it takes two people and removing a rib to get a dress to zip, it wasn't meant to be. It is gorgeous though and exactly the gown I am looking for to wear as the chemo queen. My heart is broken...**sniff sniff***

Instead I wore the awesome vintage blue-lace cocktail dress that I wore in Barefoot in the Park. Of course like idiots we left our camera at home so we don't have any good pictures of the event. Andrea' took this with her camera phone.

I went ahead and wore the wig. I have been trying to find a tiara that is small enough to fit my head without the wig. But I must have a tiny head, cause everything I have tried is too big. And I don't have enough hair yet for the combs to work. A few more months and I should be able to use a bobby pin or something. But tonight, I wore the wig, even though I would rather not. I love the wig, but it feels too much like a crutch to me at this point. Like pretension. I have half an inch of hair and it looks decent. I am not Britney Spears that I have to wear wigs and greasy hair extensions to pretend I have hair. I wonder what she would look like if she just cut it out and wore her hair short, whatever length it is. It would probably look better. Poor girl, what a mess.

Why am I off on a Britney Spears tangent? Huh?

What I should be writing about is how a ballroom full of people listened to my story tonight and were right there with me so much that as I spoke, most of them were tearing up, like me. And when I finished the room stood as one and clapped. I got a standing ovation and it meant more to me than any of the ovations I have gotten over the years on stage. This was different. What a warm, wonderful group of people, so many touched, no, burned, by cancer. And I was able to reach them and we all cried together when the emcee got up after I spoke and asked for a moment of silence to honor those who have fought cancer and won, and those who didn't make it. It was a pretty damned emotional and I was so proud to have been a part of it.

I have no idea if I will ever be asked to speak like that again, but I am glad I did it. So many people came to me afterwards and gave me a hug and just told me that they were inspired. I met other survivors who are running tomorrow. And I am invited to hang out at a couple of water stops tomorrow. I will probably get up at the crack of dawn to head downtown to cheer the Team In Training runners on. Should be fun.

I also did my callback audition this afternoon for Stop Kiss. It went well. I read some scenes better than others and as usual I feel I could have done better in some things. But am satisfied overall with how it went. And I really don't envy the director. There were eight women vying for two parts and seriously, the director could cast it any number of ways. Everyone was good and everyone was different in some way. Usually when I leave an audition I can say with confidence who I would cast if I were the director. This time, damn, I just don't know. I don't think she can go wrong whatever she decides. I should know Monday some time whether I am cast or not.

And I have cool news on the NYC trip that is rapidly approaching! I can't remember if I mentioned in the last blog that we are confirmed to be in the indoor studio audience of Good Morning America on Thursday morning next week. And that is cool enough. But Friday I got a call from Letterman! I won an online lottery for tickets to the show, but had to answer a question about the show to win them. I was in the shower when they called, so before I called back, I googled the Late Show website to brush up on facts. I was sure I wouldn't know the answer since I don't watch as often as I used to. But the question was easy - What color is the announcer's hair? Red! I actually think I knew that one before I googled! So we will be in the studio audience of Letterman on Thursday night! So watch GMA and Letterman on Thursday the 21st and look for me and David.

What else? Valentine's Day! Jackson had a big day Thursday. At school they decorated little goody bags for valentine's and all the moms/dads sent a treat for the kids. The grocery store was out of the little boxes of cards for kids so I bought a package of stickers and some little rattle favors and made them up for each kid. My first mommy preschool project! I was feeling ok about it until Thursday afternoon when I picked him up and saw what some of the other moms had done. Little cellophane bags full of treats and cool things. Man. I don't want to start this mommy competition crap in preschool. So I am gonna let it go that what I did wasn't as cool as what some other moms did. I will not compete, hear me, self? I will not compete!

When I took him to school that morning he got really clingy when we got there. He wanted me to carry him and he didn't want to be put down in his classroom. He cried a little and told me "no, no!" I was afraid he was going to have a melt-down and I didn't understand. He talked about school all morning and said he wanted to go, and when we got there he wasn't happy. But then a couple of the other kids came up and took him by the arm and dragged him off to play. Little girls, of course. And he kind of threw me a look over his shoulder like, "Ok, I guess I'll stay." He quit crying immediately and lost all interest in me. I had to take him by the shoulders to get his attention to say I was leaving. He didn't care. So I guess he is a little apprehensive about school, but enjoys it anyway.

Thursday evening, Mom and Tonya brought over the car bed Tonya has been building for the last several months. She worked so hard on it and boy is it gorgeous! Jackson loves it. We don't have a twin mattress for it yet, but he was so excited and wanted to sleep in it right away. So we pulled the mattress out of the crib and piled pillows around it to make up for the gap so he could go ahead and sleep in it. We'll get a twin mattress tomorrow afternoon, I hope. If we can track down a truck to use and it isn't raining too much.

Did I cover everything? Speech, callback, valentine suburban mom thing, car bed, Letterman and GMA? I think that is all.

Send NYC restaurant recommendations if you have them! We are leaving Wednesday bright and early.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

First Day of School and Purse Karma?

I dropped Jackson off at preschool this morning without incident. He was excited to go in the classroom and all but pushed me out the door when I tried to tell him I was leaving. He didn't seem the least bit concerned. He just wanted to play with the kids. When I picked him up, he was happy to see me and pretty worn out. The teachers said he acted like he had been coming all year.

He fit right in and did well. I am so excited that he gets to go and be with other kids and start learning how to interact with them. It was a little bumpy back at the Palace; he was so tired but didn't want to lay down. So I let him yell it out a little and he finally crashed.

My audition last night went well. I read a few scenes and suspect I will be called back on Saturday. It was really fun to just get in there and read. Whether I get a part or not, I am happy to have gone. It is interesting that I read more for the part I thought I didn't fit than the one I thought was more me. But after reading the other, I realize I was underestimating myself. I did relate to her - a veteran New Yorker - in a way I didn't expect. It was really cool to discover that the director saw me differently and brought out something I wasn't sure was there. I love theatre. I usually hate auditioning, but it is such a treat for me at this point after being cancer girl for so many months. I am enjoying myself again.

So after I dropped Jackson off at school I went to the Palace to work. This morning we had a photo shoot scheduled. Shape Magazine, a national publication, scouted our location at some point recently and we didn't even know it. They took pictures, even. How did we miss that? They really liked the art deco feel of the place and scheduled one of their fashion shoots at the theatre. Pretty cool and last minute as they just called us yesterday to see if it was ok. So we made an easy $200 rental fee and got to spy on an honest-to-goodness NYC fashion page photo shoot. Elizabeth, Larry and I kept waiting for the models to show up, expecting some perfectly fit gorgeous people to come waltzing in.

Little did we know the models were already there; a normal, good-lookingish guy and the tall, incredibly skinny, odd-looking girl in the lobby. Blonde, very straight hair, blunt-cut bangs and I swear, the skinniest, longest legs I have ever seen - like toothpicks. She has NYC runway model written all over her. We were disappointed. We were expecting the old-style model, like Cindy Crawford or Kathy Ireland with gorgeous figures and healthy glows - Shape Magazine, right? Elizabeth suggested she and I get some donuts and eat a bunch of them while we watched the shoot. I said, "only if we throw them up afterwards."

And here is a picture of me with an incredibly trendy and expensive, limited edition Coach designer bag. Lovely, well-made, smells like leather and the gold chain weighs a ton. Very nice. Does it look like me? Hmmm. I think not. I am not quite cool enough for it, I think.

You may be asking, "Did Marsha go out and buy this $358 too-small-to-be-useful bag after trying in vain to deny that she wants one?" Alas no. I did not. After my last blog about 'handbags' and the shameful admiration I seem to be fostering for them, I got my hands on this one two days later. By accident. It was a prop in the fashion shoot. The Shape Magazine people left it lying on the floor in the auditorium like a discarded playbill and called this afternoon frantic for me to find it. They gave me their Fed-Ex account number to overnight it to them. I have to send it off in the morning, but first I had to bring it home and photograph myself with it for posterity. I don't even want to keep it. Well, not much anyway. And I am all paranoid that something is going to happen to it before I can get it to Fed Ex tomorrow. I have to put it somewhere the cats or the kid can't get to it and draw with his markers all over it or spill juice on it. Heh. Wouldn't that be funny?

So how do I know how much it costs? The tags are still inside it. Along with this leather sewn-in tag. David made me take this picture of it to show it is the real thing - limited edition - it's even numbered.

And has gorgeous striped satiny fabric lining it. Very nice. Sigh. This really isn't helping me to get over wanting one. I certainly wouldn't buy this particular one. It isn't multi-purpose enough. But maybe one more like this. :o)

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Pics, Shows, Bikers and Shopping Mania

First a couple pictures Joni did, as promised. This is the one I sent to Coping Magazine.

The purple bracelet is the one my husband wears everyday - it says "Fuck Cancer." I love it.

I have had a pretty busy weekend. It's been good. Saturday morning I got up and did my Pilates exercises, and then David, Jackson and I headed to the grocery store for a massive run. Were home by noon for Jackson's nap. I then proceeded to clean up my closet, getting rid of the tons of clothes that don't fit or never wear and things just taking up space. I was able to consolidate things so I could see my shoe rack again. I had clothes hanging in front of it, so my shoes were all piled up on the floor instead of on the shelf. What I have is an old book shelf that is perfect for my shoes, but it doesn't help to have an organized place for things if the rest of the closet is so unorganized you can't get to it. So I worked most of the afternoon on that. Then I headed in to Austin to see a play.

To my horror, I was late to the play, had to sneak in after they started. I have never had to do that and as an actor, I really hate it when people do it. It is distracting. But the damned interstate was shut down in Round Rock so they could demolish a bridge. That cost me 15 minutes. Then I couldn't find parking downtown. Had to park five or six blocks away. When I finally parked, I ran, really, ran those blocks to get to the Hideout Theatre. I couldn't believe that I could do that. I ran and got a little out of breath, but not much. I am getting some stamina back and it feels great. Being late to the theatre, however, does not feel great. It feels stupid.

The show was wonderful. I saw Five Women Wearing the Same Dress - the show whose audition I missed by being in the blasted hospital. I really wanted to do that show. But I put aside any bitterness and thoroughly enjoyed the show. The ladies in the cast were great. The dresses were fittingly unattractive and the audience appreciative. It was a near-capacity crowd, which I am really happy to see for such a new theatre company. Good job, guys. Keep up the great work.

After the show I was invited to go to the Continental Club to hear some music, but I didn't feel up to find parking again. Not by myself anyway. Instead I sat with some friends in the coffee shop and had a good time discussing the primaries and everyone's predictions about them. It felt good to be out among peers and not at all as hard as it was month or two ago. As I feel physically better and spend more time among 'regular' people I am getting better about not feeling so separate and different. I had fun.

Everyone was so complimentary about my new hairs. They say I look cool with super-short hair. Made me feel good. Course those most effusive were the table of ladies I sat with after the show - all of them gay. They laughed and told me my new hair made me look hot and that it is lesbian approved. Awesome.

Very cool, since I am auditioning for a show this week in which the two main characters are women who fall in love with each other - both of whom previously dated men. It is a really great play, well-written and the dialogue is snappy. Very much written how people talk, I am excited to audition. There are only two parts in my age range, and really only one that fits me, so it may be a long-shot. But auditioning should be fun and I am looking forward to it.

Today, David and I took Jackson to Harker Heights to see his Omi and Grandpa. It was such a gorgeous day we went to the park so he could play. While we were there we saw a large group of motorcycle riders. They came and parked, their bikes all lined up and shiny, and proceeded to the picnic pavilion in the park. We didn't think much of it until we were walking nearby to get to the little pond to see the ducks. We passed by the pavilion and realized they had posted what looked like sentries all around them. Big biker dudes stood at each corner and spaced in between, probably 6 of them, facing out with their arms crossed and blank expressions. I couldn't believe my eyes, but David and Susanne confirmed - these must be guards posted to 'protect' the biker meeting or whatever it was.

Now we are talking about a suburban park, with young families and joggers and people playing pick-up basketball and flying kites. And there is a group of bikers, in bandanas and leather gathering and nobody really cares. They have as much a right to be there as anyone else. They just looked like normal, mostly middle-aged people dressed to bike in the nice weather. "Oh, they're having a rally," we thought. No biggy. But then they posted their intimidating sentries and it got ridiculous really quickly. Are they worried the suburban couples might infiltrate and spy on them? Are they worried a wiener dog might get loose from his owner's chain and hassle them? WTF? They need to totally get over themselves. Must they take themselves so seriously? I mean, no one cares if they want to meet. Go for it. Have fun. But you'd better watch out for those Frisbee-throwing hippies, they might let the rival gang of forty-something riders in on their secret handshake. Whatever.

Back to my busy weekend. I need to confess that I kept myself so busy because I was fighting the urge to go shopping. Not grocery shopping - me shopping. I don't know what it is about my cancer ordeal that has left me so wanting of things. Mostly the trappings of womanhood - make-up, jewelry, clothes, shoes. And handbags. Why do I have this terrible urge to buy an expensive, trendy handbag? Why the fuck am I calling it a handbag? I have never shopped for a handbag. A handbag is something designer that you pay way too much for and want everyone to know the brand of. A purse is what I have always carried. A purse is something you pick up at Target when the strap of your old one breaks off in your hand and tosses its contents onto the Starbucks floor for everyone to see. That is who I have always been. Never a 'status handbag' carrier; I am usually carrying a purse - or a box with a handle - that I got as a gift. Now I find myself secretly surfing eBay for Coach and Marc Jacobs. Geez, somebody shoot me! I find myself admiring other women's status bags in the grocery store. Half of which are probably knock-offs and I can't tell the difference, thank god. I am not that far gone.

Someone save me from this material need that has possessed me since I was diagnosed with cancer. Is it simply the need to feel pretty after losing my hair? The need for control over something? Or is it the realization that I may not be here long-term and dammit I want nice stuff? Sigh. I dunno, but I now have four or five different colors of eye shadow for the first time in my life - and I like it. I have always simply brushed my eyelids with whatever color of blush I was wearing - usually a mocha pinkish thing. Now I actually look at pictures in fashion magazines and study their eye shadow, determining what colors I'd like to get. So far I have managed to stifle the most disturbing of these urges, like the handbag thing. Hopefully I will either get over it and get back to my former frugal (read: cheap) ways or I will come to grips with it and feed the least expensive of my needs in a responsible way. Or maybe I will bankrupt my husband at the mall like the most cliché of wives.

Next thing you know, I'll be getting highlights in my hair and then you will know that the old Marsha is truly gone, never to be seen again.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Found one!

I visited another preschool today and they actually have an opening to start immediately, since a family just moved. This is very fortunate since all the other places I visited or called have nothing until the fall. And it turns out the director of A Child's Place at Wellspring Methodist Church is a lady I know. Or used to know. We both went to Southwestern and our ex-husbands used to party together. I vaguely remember that she was a preschool director in those days. Never thought I'd be putting a kid into her program, but it is a really small world. Especially in Georgetown.

Jackson again didn't want to leave and threw an absolute fit. He just wants to stay and play with the kids and more importantly, all the new and different toys they have there. So I am gathering his shot records and buying him a lunch box and starting Tuesday, he goes to school twice a week 9a to 1p. I think he will like it.

I am nervous. I wonder if he will behave. Will he follow the rules? Whine like he does at home when he doesn't get his way? I know I shouldn't worry. He is two and will act like a two-year-old, sometimes good, sometimes bad. I guess what I am feeling is about me, really. Will he behave and be a good boy and reflect well on me as a parent? Or will he be known as the class brat, the difficult child whose mother must be a pushover. People tell me he is well-behaved, but what they see is that he is not so much well-behaved as he is sociable and happy in a world where people pretty much give him whatever he wants. He does not like to do as I say. He does what he pleases unless forced to do otherwise. How will he do in an environment that doesn't revolve around him? He won't be the only kid in the room anymore. Cute and charming can only get you so far, you have to learn how to negotiate within your peer circle. I suppose this is the first step for him. It should be pretty laid back as they don't start their real curriculum until three-years-old. They focus on play and interaction with others. Storytime. Lots of playtime outside. That sort of thing. This will give him an opportunity to figure out how to socialize when he isn't with mom, dad or doting grandparents. I am excited for him. And worried. But not too worried.

People at work have told me that the first day will be hard on me and I will probably cry to leave him at school. But I don't think I will. I did all that last July when I had to pack his bag and send him to his grandparents for four days while I got my port implanted and a bone marrow biopsy and had my first chemo. Putting him in the car that day was hard. Sending him away because I had cancer made me sob. Even though it was only four days, it felt awful. All summer and fall I sent him off so I could have chemo. Leaving him at preschool for four hours twice a week can't compare with that. I had to come to grips with letting go of him for his own good. I don't see me crying over preschool. This, I am doing by choice.

I am continuing to do the pilates and aerobics videos several times a week. Well, a few times a week. If I do it three days out of seven, does that qualify as several? It sounds better to me than 'a few.' A 'few' sounds lazy. As in "I only get off my ass 'a few' times a week to work out." 'Several' sounds so ambitious. "Several times a week Marsha does her body and her backside good by stretching and stregnthening her muscles." See? Much better.

But seriously, I am really beginning to see a diffence in my strength. Still no change on the scale. I guess I am only counteracting the cupcakes and cookies I can't stop eating. But I am feeling sronger and leaner, if not lighter. If I could make myself go from 'a few' workouts to truly 'several' and maybe even up it to 'often', I'd be a hard-body. That would rock!

I can't believe I am going to be in New york City in 13 days. Wow. David and I are getting excited. Seems unreal. But it is fast approaching and I need to get on the stick and make sure I have everything I need and look up what I can and can't take on the airplane. I haven't been on a place since pre-9/11. Makes me a little nervous, but I'll get over it.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008


We are in the process of looking for a pre-school for Jackson to attend a few mornings a week. I am having a hard time finding programs online. I google pre-schools in Georgetown and one place comes up. I am certain there is more than one pre-school in G'town. But there doesn't seem to be many. Daycare centers are plentiful, but if you aren't looking for all day five days a week, your options are basically limited to what local churches have to offer. I want to find something in Georgetown so I can drop him off in the morning, head to the Palace to do some work and then pick him up after lunch and bring him back for his nap.

Jackson and I stopped by the Grace Episcopal Preschool on Tuesday to check out their program. It looked nice. They have built an addition specifically for the school. Nice sized rooms, great playground and nice people. Good price too. The only downside is that they keep an Elementary school calendar, they are open September thru May, nothing in the summer. So I can sign him up starting in March to begin attending in September. If I get there before it is filled up, that is. I would like to find something that he can start now. He was so excited on the visit, he wanted to go in and play with the kids. He was so mad at me when we left. He cried for 20 minutes that he wanted to "go to schoooool!" I don't want him to remain isolated till September. The poor boy was forced into isolation when I got cancer. He wasn't allowed to be around kids and their germs. Now that I am not taking chemo, it is time for him to get out there and play.

I would love to send him to Montessori, but it is pretty darn expensive. I need to check out the Georgetown Montessori to see what they run, but I bet it is too much. I may pick up more hours at the Palace if we get him in a program, but that probably won't be enough to pay for it. We shall see. I also have to find some place that is not so strict on the potty training. I have seen some places that have a cut-off at 3 years old - No diapers on 3-year-olds. I would love to say that Jackson will be trained by 3, but his birthday is in July and so far he is quite resistant to the idea of the potty. Not interested. So what is that? Five months? Hmmmmm. Doesn't seem likely.

David has been tired lately, going to bed early. Last night he went to bed at 9:00 and tonight he hit the sack at 8:15! He got up super early this morning to prepare for a presentation so I understand why he is tired. But damn. I feel so abandoned. I hate being up by myself. Reminds me of the brief time I spent living alone in my own apartment. I hated it. Although I will say my place was spotless nearly all the time. Bed made in the morning, my two dishes a day washed right after dinner. It was nice. Not like right this second, with the vast amounts of toy cars strewn about and the dishes in the sink. Not sure why that is. Why would I be a neat freak when living alone? Must have been boredom and loneliness. I hate sitting up by myself. I don't mind being up late, I prefer it, actually, to getting up early. I even enjoyed (mostly) my time with baby Jackson, sitting in my recliner nursing him and watching MASH episodes really quietly at 2:00 in the morning.

Ah, those were the days, when I could cuddle, snuggle and kiss on the boy and he couldn't complain at all. Or run from me screaming "Noooo kissseeessss!

I still can't get blogger to spellcheck and now I can't upload the picture I sent to Coping Magazine. Well, trust me, Joni did a good job. I'll share if/when blogger lets me. What gives?

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Hey, Where's My Shoulder-Length Hair?

Law and Order SVU has a storyline on right now in which a bunch of embryos have been stolen from an invitro clinic. One of the embryo moms is a woman who created embryos prior to chemo. The actress is Gabrielle Anwar. Her character repeatedly claims to be four months post-chemo...and she has gorgeous shoulder-length hair. Obviously not a wig. It leaves me wondering why the casting director or whoever makes these decisions decided that after four months, you get your hair back. Maybe they know something I don't know. Am I going to wake up in April to a head full of swinging hair? I can't fucking wait. Morons.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

WTF? No Spellchecker?

Jackson is on the upswing I think. It is a lingering illness though. He threw up again in the middle of the night last night, but has seemed fine all day today. Except he really hasn't eaten much of anything in days. Hopefully his appetite will improve soon. Tomorrow I plan to really try to get some food into him.

I did go to the Team In Training kick off party on Thursday. I was pretty impressed with the number of people that signed up to train for an event. There were people who looked like runners and triathletes and there were normal-looking people too. Not sure what makes people decide to up and run a marathon. I guess the test of endurance is attractive. But not one part of me has any interest in actually running a marathon. I figure I have tested my endurance. Once through 13 hours of unmedicated labor and birth and then two years later through 18 weeks of chemotherapy. My endurance has been good and tested, but I will sure be happy to cheer on and admire those who are choosing to go for it and raise money for LLS.

At the event a cancer survivor named Meg Brown spoke about her experience with Lymphoma at the age of 22. She is five years in remission now and does a lot of speaking. She spoke with such grace and humor and ease. Really showed me how it's done. I definitely need to take a page from her book and really personalize my story. I have some work to do if I want to become a good public speaker. I think I can do it, but I do need practice.

Today I met with Joni for a short photo shoot. I need a picture to send to Coping Magazine and just wanted to get a few shots of the way I look now, with one inch of hair. We took some Chemo Queen shots and some normal shots and hopefully we have some good ones. I am a notoriously self-concious model so I am rarely happy with the way I look in photos. I tend to look akward and uncomfortable because as soon as a camera is pointed at me, I have no idea what to do with my body. But if anyone can make me look good, it's Joni. We shall see. I'll share when I get them.

Grrr! The last few times I have posted bloggers spell checker has been hosed. I rely on spell checker to make sure I don't look like an absolute idiot with stupid errors. So I can't check this post like I couldn't check the last few. So my secret is going to be out, I am a crappy speller. Oh well.