Haircut tomorrow

I am getting a hair cut tomorrow after I drop Jackson at school. I haven't been to the salon in about 8 weeks and I am desperate for some help shaping, taming and figuring out WTF to do with the hair on my head. I hesitate to call it my hair. That implies choice and ownership which I don't care to claim. This is not my hair. My hair fell to the kitchen floor under my best friend's clippers just over a year ago. This hair on my head is alien and I haven't the slightest idea how to treat it, style it or learn to accept and (gasp) like it. Hopefully tomorrow Maria will have more hints and help and I will probably buy some styling products that she suggests. The stuff I have is kinda heavy and often looks greasy when I put too much in to try to tame the fluff. Sigh. Some day I may look in the mirror and not feel the bitter loss of my hair, or more importantly, my say in it. But that isn't today. Not yet.

Jackson has begun kicking toys out of his room at night. If something looks scary to him after he gets in his bed, he gets up scoots it out to the hall and closes the door behind it. So when I go to bed at night, there is a small line-up in the hall of all the things that spooked him that night. Tonight, his Mater truck is banished. We shall see if anything else joins Mater in the line-up. Last night was the dump truck. He is funny. He is taking control of his environment. Atta boy!

I have become such a lazy blogger. It isn't that I haven't had things to write about, but more than many of them are complicated and sometimes when much is going on, I blog less. And then I get behind and the challenge of updating the blog with everything becomes daunting, so I blog even less.

One thing to update on is my health. Which is fine. But I have been having a little shortness of breath. My oncologist thinks it is residual lung damage and not a recurrence of lymphoma. My blood work and physical exams in late August show no evidence of cancer and my scans have always shown crap in my right lung. So on an Ozone Action Day last week or so, I was having a hard time breathing. Just having to take deep breaths to feel like I was getting enough oxygen. It subsided in a day or two and I am fine now. But it seems I may have problems with my lungs occasionally. Ok. I guess I can deal with that. I have another PET/CT scan in a couple of weeks, so that should alleviate all fears that the cancer is back. Cause it isn't. So there. And I got them to go ahead and schedule both scans at the same time instead of two separate visits. Doing them separate the last couple of times really sucked and I will be happy not to have to drink all the extra barium.

Is it always like this?

Is the first day your kid heads back to school or pre-school always such an awesome sigh of relief and happiness? Woo Hoo! Jackson is back at school 3 days a week, he is excited to go and I am sooooooo glad to take him. The feeling is akin to the old feelings of last-day-of-school bliss. Yippee! It has been a good, but long summer and the small boy and I are in dire need of some time apart - besides nap time. Boredom is Jackson's mortal enemy. It makes him hyper, destructive, whiny and defiant. Me too, except the destructive part. And I am more tired than hyper. But you know what I mean.

Today has been awesome. He was so excited to go this morning, could hardly wait while I packed his lunch and backpack. He got a little nervous as we pulled up and said "Is school closed today? We can go tomorrow." He needed to hold my hand as we walked in. I usually have to force him to hold my hand. But once in the classroom, he sat down at the round table with the other kids and dove into the play dough. I could not even get his attention to say goodbye.

I was worried he would wet his pants. And he did. As I expected, he doesn't want to stop playing to go potty. The teacher is going to make a point of reminding him to go. And I will continue to send changes of clothes for him. I hope it doesn't take him too long to get the hang of it. It would be better if they had an organized potty time, in which everything stopped and they all went to the bathroom. But their bathroom is connected to the classroom, with tiny toilets - very cute. And the kids are just supposed to go when they need to. Jackson might need to be directed to go. Not even a reminder, but an order. Ask, "Do you need to go potty?" The answer is nearly always 'no' even if he is performing the pee-pee dance right then. Tell him instead, "It is time to go potty now." And you will have more success. I may suggest that if he doesn't do better tomorrow and Thursday.

But back to the 'hooray' to back-to-school. We get a break from each other, i get uninterrupted work time at the Palace, and we are happy to see each other when I pick him up. It is just an awesome time all around. And I am so comfortable with the school and I like his teacher.

I love days like today when I can be so productive. I got the poster or our season opener, The Producers, designed printed and distributed to businesses on the square, I got the marquee cases out front changed over from last season/Nunsense to this season/Producers. I sold about 30 season tickets, scheduled a crew to steam clean the carpets in the lobby and auditorium, got the batch/transaction reports done from the weekend and answered the phones and took care of people who came in.

After I picked up Jackson and took him back to the Palace, he went down easy for his nap and slept til 4:00. It was just a good day. Big change from the last couple of weeks when he has become increasingly bored and disinterested in hanging out at the theatre. Our tempers flare and we fight. He acts up, I scold, it doesn't correct him and he escalates when I am on the phone or working with someone. It was looking kind of bleak for the future of Jackson being allowed to be at the Palace. But with school starting it is looking up. I am also in talks with a young lady to keep him on Friday afternoons so I can get all the show-critical stuff taken care of without forcing him to waaaiiittt for me to finish everything, acting up and causing it all to take longer. Friday show days take a lot of work to be ready and I need to concentrate on that and Jackson shouldn't have to sit there while I work til 5 or 5:30. Heh, if he isn't there, I probably will be done with everything much earlier.

In closing I would just like to say...Yay first day of school!!!!

Songs coming from my bathroom.

I use a baby monitor when Jackson is in the bath so I can leave the room off and on and still hear what it going on in there. Lately this has led to my discovering his singing ability. Whenever I leave the room, he starts to sing. Mostly he sings me happy birthday. My birthday was a couple of weeks ago so it is fresh on his mind. His song goes:

"Happy Birthday to Mama, happy birthday to mama, happy birthday to mama...yaaaaayyyyy" with lots of clapping.

Tonight he added to his repertoire with a rousing rendition of Old Macdonald. Except he likes to change the lyrics and laugh. For example:

"Old Macdonald had a purple car, oh yee oh yee oh"

And for his third number he chose the ever popular Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. his version:

"Twinkle twinkle little star how I wonder what you had for breakfast! What you had for BREAKFAST!" lots of squealing laughter.

That one I think came from Go Diego. I vaguely remember them singing and talking to a star this morning. I don't think he randomly made that one up.

Anyway, his singing is hilarious and I need to get it on video, but he won't perform for the camera.

Sometimes you just gotta ask.

Does this pig look scary to you? Cause it turns out he is keeping my entire family awake at night. Jackson has been getting into our bed at night for quite some time, disrupting our sleep. He really thrashes about in his sleep. So much so that I remember all those restless leg syndrome drug commercials and wonder if he has that. Of course I don't think drugs to help him sleep would be a good idea at all. But I can't imagine it is very restful the way he sleeps. It sure as hell disrupts my sleep. And when I put him back in his bed, he is back in mine sometimes within an hour, sometimes not even ten minutes. David and I have been trying to decide what to do about it. But coming up short.

Tonight when I was laying in Jackson's bed with him reading before bedtime, it occurred to me to simply ask him what he was thinking about when he woke up at night and got into my bed.

He immediately started to tell me that he saw "really scary things" when he opens his eyes. He rambled about spiders on the ceiling. Which is really creepy, because my husband can tell you that is my number one middle of the night hallucination that makes me sit up screaming and flailing my arms to get the spider before it lands on me as it drops from the ceiling. I am sure Jackson has never heard us talk about it. So did I hereditarily pass on my spider hallucination to my son?

And I haven't even gotten to the pig yet. The pig has always sat on his dresser in his room and it played a big part in his 'why he comes to my room at night' story. He kept saying he had to tip-toe past the pig. I kept thinking 'what pig'? What was he talking about. I couldn't think of any pig. But then I scanned the room and there it was. The pig. Staring right at the bed. WTF? Why didn't we notice such a thing and why did he never mention it?

He doesn't act scared when he comes to my room. And when he protests getting back into his bed he never says 'I don't want to go back, I'm scared.' And that is the one thing I have perfect sympathy for, since I spent my childhood running to my dad at night when I had bad dreams - which was all the time.

Jackson then went on to point out his toy truck that I put on the top shelf of his new unit across from his bed. This is a big tow truck from the movie Cars, so it has big ol eyes. He loves this truck, but he says sometimes "Mater" scares him at night. So in the dark the boy wakes up and there is this pig and this truck staring at him. So he comes to my room, but he never mentions being scared.

So sometimes you just gotta ask. Cause I thought if he were scared he would say so and obviously this is not the case. I took Mater down from the shelf and removed the pig and have not heard a peep from him since I turned off the light, which is definitely now how it normally goes at bedtime.

So let's see if he comes as much to my room at night. I don't think it will stop. I can take all the toys with eyes from his room, but the spiders dropping from the ceiling I can do nothing about. If I could I'd have stopped seeing them myself, right?

Peeing on the stairs, breakdowns and expensive earrings

This weekend was tough with moments of awesome.

On Saturday, David had to film a scene for his upcoming show. It is a live musical, but this vignette will be played on a screen. Should be pretty cool. I was invited to come and hang out while they filmed. But I thought it was a bad idea since I have a Jackson and 3 year-olds don't mix well with "Quiet on the set." Instead I had tentative plans to meet Andrea for lunch and kill some time with her. But she had a plumbing emergency dripping in a bucket on her dining room table. Then David called from Kyle's house where they were filming and encouraged me again to come out. So I went, despite my knowledge that it wasn't a good idea.

We got there before the filming started and got to visit and hang out for a bit. And Jackson took the opportunity to play on the piano...and pee on the piano bench. The padded seat of the piano bench luckily comes off for washing. I guess they anticipate the occasional peeing house guest. I shrugged that slight embarrassment off as best I could and when they started filming, to preserve the quiet, I took Jackson down to the pool and we spent around an hour playing together in the water. But then it got chilly and Jackson's teeth were chattering and I was tired and feeling isolated and worn out by the demands of the boy.

So on their break, I went back upstairs with him and got dried off. It was fine until they started filming again and Jackson started begging to go back to the pool. And then he peed on the stairs. Just stood there and peed. It does a mother proud when she takes her 98% potty-trained child to a friends home and he liberally sprays the premises, marking his territory. He has consistently used the potty for a month or more and he chose Saturday to fall off the wagon. So embarrassing.

But worse was the fact that I have gotten used to him not having accidents and only packed one change of clothes in his back pack. Since peeing on the stairs was his second accident I was fresh out of dry underpants. So that ended our day out. I told him we had to go home, which was the wrong thing to do before gathering up all our stuff. Cause he immediately started freaking out and crying and yelling that he didn't want to leave and he wanted his daddy. If I had been smart I would have gathered the wet swimsuits and his socks and shoes and bags and then said "let's go" on the way out the door. As it was his tantrum disrupted the filming and they had to stop until I managed to get the kid and all my stuff out the door.

What a disaster. I was embarrassed because he peed everywhere and I couldn't keep him quiet and it made me really mad. And when Jackson is mad and I am mad we escalate each other's bad behavior. We fight. I yell at him, he yells at me and it just keeps going until one of us gives in - usually me. He is just like me, he has to win, has to have the last word. But I am the adult. And I should have recognized that a place where they needed quiet was not an appropriate place to take an energetic, carousing child. I did recognize it. Which is why I didn't get in the car and go with David that morning when he left. It is my own fault.

Jackson and I finally made peace, as we usually do. But the day was pretty much shot. It is exhausting to fight with a 3 year-old.

So Sunday brought a much-needed break for me and Jackson. He went with David to Harker Heights to spend the day with his Omi and Grandpa. David and his Dad spent the day installing a new muffler and exhaust system in his car. I planned a day shopping and hanging out with Andrea, as a make-up for Saturday. It didn't go exactly as planned.

We had lunch at Ihop and had a great time, with me giving her tons of un-asked-for advice that she may or may not follow. But I like to hear myself talk sometimes and she is a great listener. We decided to head over to the Outlet Mall nearby to spend some money, but when we got in my car, it wouldn't start.

Dead battery. Unjumpable dead battery. So on my make-up, break from Jackson, day with my extremely busy best friend who I hardly see, my car broke down and I had to call a tow truck.

It isn't all tragedy as I have towing coverage on my insurance and road-side assistance to coordinate it all. And the tow truck got there pretty quickly. Elaine came over and picked up Andrea and took her back to my house to get her car while I rode in the tow truck to the dealership across the highway. I left my keys and instructions in the lock box since they were closed. Then we headed as planned to the outlet mall. Except I was now really in need of retail therapy and even more determined to blow some money on something frivolous.


And I did. Andrea made me do it. I would have talked myself out of it if she hadn't been there chanting at me to buy them. Them being diamond earrings. A tiny circle of yellow diamonds connected to a slightly bigger circle of white diamonds. The store had a ton of things 80% off. I absolutely love them and I have never walked into a jewelry store and bought myself something expensive. And since I had birthday money to spend, Andrea wouldn't let me out of it. (Thanks Dad.)

Tonya came and took me and Jackson to work so we didn't have to miss because of my car. The dealership confirmed the very dead battery and I also had them do the timing belt service that was due on it. I feel like a real adult today. I had major work done on my car for something that wasn't even broken! That is a real milestone for me. Servicing a car before it breaks instead of running around behind it after it breaks is so grown-up.

Heh, that is funny. I am married with a child and a mortgage, been through the hell of a cancer diagnosis and chemo and I only feel like a grown-up when shelling out a bunch of money on preemptive car work. Life is funny that way.

Paci's, birthday's and recovered cats

Sam is curled up on the couch (on a towel) next to me sleeping comfortably with what looks like much relief and contentment. David left work early and met me at the vet to pick him up around 4:30 this afternoon. We paid our bill and talked to the vet about what we need to do for him for the next few days. She wants us to keep him inside for 5 days which will be hard. This is a cat who wants to be outside; who will only use a litter box if you lock the cat door and won't let him out. Right now he doesn't seem to want to wander, but I worry about days 3 - 5.

he smelled pretty bad when we picked him up. The vet said when she pulled the catheter, it is normal for him to be a little incontinent at first. So he had pee all over himself. She recommended a bath.

Any of you that have met my Sam understand what a terrifying prospect that would be. Sam is an alley cat, a touch-me-not, as Andrea puts it. He shows affection by biting you. He is kind of a cranky guy. Happy being a curmudgeon. And very strong. But boy, did he stink. So we locked ourselves in the bathroom with the cat and the handheld showerhead. It took us both, but we got him hosed down a little with baby shampoo and warm water. We were planning to keep him in the bathroom for a little while because of the leaking pee possibility. But he was really unhappy in there. We let him out and he followed David around and rubbed all over him. I think he is really happy to be home.

When David left for rehearsal he put Sam back in the bathroom, but I let him out again after I finally got Jackson settled into bed for the night. He followed me just as closely, which is unheard of for Sam, and he even sat in my towel-draped lap for half an hour wanting to be pet. Poor boy probably thought we had abandoned him and was surprised we brought him home again.

And we were quite happy that the bill was less than we thought it would be. 2 days and nights at the vets, meds, tests, IV and catheter ran us $368. I expected at least $500. But the vet that we go to has a reputation for no nonsense, upselling, and reasonable pricing. He has been in the same location since before I was born. And I am pleased that they took good care of Sam. Mcleod Animal Clinic on Mays in Round Rock.

On to the Pooh Paci saga.

So what is this? Day 4? We have survived thus far. The first night saw Jackson in my room at 3:00 in the morning missing his paci. He stood in the doorway and simply and matter-of-factly said, "Paci." This is the way he talks when he is trying to convince you that his request is reasonable and your refusal is not acceptable. he usually uses this tone of voice when seeking candy. Such as:

Jackson: Can I have some candy?
Mom/Dad: Not before dinner.
Jackson: (deadpan)Candy.

So he stood in the door saying, "Paci" a few times, then he climbed into my arms and settled in to sleep.

The next day, Wednesday, I guess it was, he was sitting on the potty at work, the very potty that took his paci, when he sighed sadly and lamented, "I wish the pooh paci would come back to me." I started encouraging him to tell people what had happened to his paci. He seemed to really want to talk about it and even developed a story - said the same way every time with the same arm movements. He'd say, "There was one yellow pooh paci (holding up one finger) it fell in the potty and mom tried to get it and couldn't get it and it went around and around and back and forth and down." (circular motions moving downward)

It wasn't long before he added to the story. I was shocked when he began the story with, "There was one green pooh paci (holding up one finger)." Because there was once a green pooh paci which was his favorite. It had Pooh and Piglet on it. It must have been a month or more ago. We were in the bathroom at home and I was rinsing out his nasty underpants back when he thought they were an alternative to pooing in the potty. So the potty was full of yucky brown water. He leaned over to see what I was doing (see a pattern here?) and the green paci fell into the potty. I fished it out and immediately trashed it. I couldn't give it back to him after it fell into the nasty toilet. He was a bit upset about it, but we still had the yellow pooh paci which he liked almost as much. So you can see that the potty taking his paci was the second time he had been robbed of a beloved pooh paci by a commode.

So the story now begins with, "There was one green pooh paci (holding up one finger) and it fell in the poopy potty and Mama threw it in the trash. And there was one yellow pooh paci (holding up one finger) it fell in the potty and mom tried to get it and couldn't get it and it went around and around and back and forth and down." ( circular motions moving downward). What a story teller.

Nap on Wednesday he fussed for quite some time before settling down to sleep. He didn't want me to leave the room, kept grabbing at my arm. He was obviously at a loss without his sleeping crutch. Wednesday night he showed up in my room in the middle of the night asking, "Can we go to the store and get a new paci, pleeeaaasse?" It breaks my heart that he misses it so much, but I didn't answer the question, just held him for a little while.

He halved the fuss time for his nap yesterday. Since I had a meeting last night, Elaine came and put him to bed for me. She said he asked her for a paci. She said she didn't have one and he asked, "Can you find one, please?" So sad.

Today at work, after telling his story a couple of times to interested parties, he asked me if we could get another paci and flush it down the potty. I guess he isn't traumatized so much. He went down for his nap without much trouble.

Course this morning we had an incident that made me laugh. Jackson has a purple helium balloon that has been slowly losing flight and tooling around the house for a few days, being blown about by the air conditioning. And in our house, when balloons get to this slow-death stage they inevitably end up in the guest bathroom hovering over the commode. So this morning when I took Jackson in there to pee, we turned on the light to discover his balloon hovering over the potty with its string hanging down into the water. Jackson reacted immediately with horror, : Noooooo! Don't take my balloon!" Poor baby is gonna develop a complex thinking the toilet is the evil entity that steals all your favorite belongings. "Muuuhahahahaha, I am the commode, I eat pooh paci's and I'm gonna get your purple car!"

So far this has not affected his potty training. He is still perfectly happy to deposit his wastes there, and he is possibly wanting to recreate the great paci flush of 08. But he just doesn't want it to take anything else he treasures.

Bedtime tonight has been a trial. He just couldn't settle down. Crys, yells and calls me in to say things like, "I need something. I need something to make me feel better. I'm sick. I need some medicine." These are not brand new statements from him. He oftens calls us in after bedtime to say he needs something to make him happy. It is just magnified right now and taking longer to get him to settle in. Hopefully this will calm down soon as he adjusts to a paci-less existance.

I guess I should talk about my birthday. I had such a bad day with my worry and guilt for Sam-cat. But it wasn't a terrible birthday. David, Jackson and I met Andrea at Tokyo Steakhouse for dinner and I ate way too much. Andrea gave me a spa gift bag - champagne, chocolates, bath salts, 'diamond' earrings and fancy glasses for the champagne. David asked me what I wanted last week and sent him a link to a jewelry organizer that I liked. So he bought it for me, opened it up and put a gorgeous pair of sapphire earrings in one of the pouches and put it back in the package. He is an awesome gift-giver. He really thinks about what he gets. Probably stood at the jewelry counter for an hour deciding. I know this because I have shopped for many a gift with him. Heh, the amount of time it takes or him to choose a simple birthday card for someone is amazing. "Pick one already," I often beg him. But that just shows how much it means to him that he get the right one.

Sam continues to sleep deeply here next to me. He is so glad to be home. I am happy too.

Sam is recovering!

Just a quick post to let you know that Sam, the cat, is recovering his kidney function! He is making urine and his lab values are 100% better than they were yesterday. They are keeping him another night and hopefully he can come home tomorrow!

I will post about the paci saga and birthday stuff and more Sam details later. I have to run to an evening Palace meeting. Elaine will be here shortly to hang with Jackson so I can head out. Gotta run.

Thanks for everyone's good thoughts and prayers and stuff for Sam cat. It looks as if he hasn't used all his 9 lives yet.

Sam cat is pretty sick

Sam is in the kitty hospital on fluids with acute kidney failure from a blocked bladder. We noticed he didn't seem to be feeling well the last couple days, but missed the signs of bladder blockage such as inability to pee cause we don't have a litter box. The cats use the cat door and go outside to do their business. So we didn't witness him struggling to pee. He was squatting kind of funny last night and that should have cued us in to the bladder issue. About Midnight last night, when I was finally heading to bed, I saw him squatting and finally got worried about bladder infection and debated taking him to the emergency vet right then.

If i had realized how common and serious bladder blockage is in male cats fed on dry food I would have gone right then. I didn't know. I didn't know dry food plus hot weather plus not drinking enough water leads to male cats having a problem with bladder infection and kidney problems and blockage leading to death. I just didn't know and I wish to hell had taken him the moment we realized he wasn't feeling quite right. He is just so stoic and doesn't wine and complain. He just wanted to be alone which actually isn't that unusual for him.

I had him at the vet at 7:30 this morning when they opened their doors. But it may be too late. There is a small chance that with iv fluids for 24 to 48 hours his kidneys could come back online and he will be fine. But there is a good chance he won't and this might be the end.

I am not dealing with that very well right now as I feel totally responsible for not getting him help sooner. I will post more tomorrow when they let me know if his kidneys are getting better or not.

RIP Pooh Paci

It is 7:40 and the crying has begun and I hesitate to predict how long it will continue. For a tragedy occurred this afternoon of such epic proportion I am having a hard time retelling it. Today at approximately 12:30 p.m. Jackson's paci was taken from us. Whisked away in a devastating fashion. Whirled away, swept away...flushed away. The scene was the ladies bathroom at the Palace, in the first stall. Jackson had just finished a nice bowel movement, dutifully deposited in the potty like the big boy he is becoming. It was during the usually rewarding flush portion of the ritual that disaster struck. The small boy leaned over the potty to watch his issue go down when his prized possession, his "Pooh" paci (as in Winnie) fell from his lips into the maelstrom. I saw it happen, like slow motion, and I tried to reach it. Unthinkingly and without hesitation I thrust my hand into the commode and felt the paci (and the poop) slip through my fingers, lost to the industrial strength of the pressurized flush of the Palace potty.

There was a moment of shocked silence afterward, while the boy and I looked at each other in disbelief. Then the devastation hit us both. He cried for his loss of comfort just prior to his nap. I nearly cried for my now-ruined work day, as I knew that his nap would be a trial instead of a time of rest.

He cried, fussed, yelled and bargained from his crib-bed in the makeshift nursery at the Palace. After two hours of persistence, he peed in his pants, messing his bed in final defiance at the commode and at the mommy who did not, could not retrieve the last existing paci in the Sray Household.

It has been a long afternoon, but he finally calmed down, took his bath, and went to bed. Except he doesn't have his paci and he suspects that their might be an old red paci lurking about the house somewhere. And he may be right. It suspect the same thing. But am unwilling to take the house apart looking for it. The Pooh Paci is gone and some old, worn-out red paci that should have been thrown out ages ago is not going to do more than prolong the battle.

We have been weaning him off the paci, slowly, for some time now. And this violent 'whoosh' is not the way I planned or wanted to end the love affair with paci-dom. It has been traumatic to both the boy and his mommy. And now the cries of "Reeeddd Paacciii!" are probably going to continue well into the night. He seems to have accepted that the Pooh paci is gone. He saw it go. The red paci is still a beacon in his head, calling to him.

Sigh. It's gonna be a long night. Or two...or three.

Olympic Commentators and My Brother's Band

I'm blogging while I watch the Olympics. Men's synchronized diving, right now. It is amazing to watch the athletes and witness how their hard work has culminated in seconds of perfection - or not. But I would rather watch them all do well and the best win as opposed to have someone really mess up when it counts. That is heartbreaking to imagine how awful it must feel to get that far and have so much riding on their performance, only to have something you've done perfectly a hundred times go wrong. I get nervous watching the gymnastics and the commentators don't help with their prophesies of doom and their constantly harping on just exactly what this means if the screw up. I hate it. David suggests I mute the TV while watching Olympics, but I like to hear some of the human interest stories and point values and such. So I have to take the good with the overwhelming amount of crap the commentators insist on spewing.

And I can't help talking back to them and finishing their implied thoughts. Such as "This gymnast never did achieve the greatness I expected. When I first saw her in 2004, I thought she was fabulous." I have to add, "Now I think she just sucks! What kind of crappy floor exercise is this? WTF?" Of course the gymnast they are talking about looks just as amazing as the others and I can't see what she is missing to be better than the others. But the comments just make me laugh.

These divers have not an ounce of fat on their bodies. They aren't very muscular, except in the abs. It is hard not to stare at and compare their bodies when they are wearing only tiny speedo's and standing so still on my HD TV as they prepare to dive. They just said that they try to pair men with similar looks and body types. And it is true that the guys that are about the same size look more in sync even when they aren't really better than the other team where one guy is bigger than the other.

Is this the most boring post you have ever read? Me live blogging the Olympics? I am boring myself. So I will change the subject.

David and I went to my Dad's house this weekend and got to see my brother's band play. It was a fun time, even though the smoke in the bar got to us both. It is hard to be around it when you aren't used to it. My throat hurt the next morning from the smoke and from talking so loud above the band. But they sounded great and we had fun. It is a treat to see my brother perform. He is a great drummer and a fabulous backup singer. When he sings with Kevin, the lead, he makes the sound fuller and whole. He is really good with harmony and blending his voice with Kevin, adding to the sound, with out taking focus. Though I think he should feature himself more vocally. I know it is hard though, to drum and sing at the same time. We can't all be Phil Collins.

Birthday and Busy Days

I'm watching the Beijing opening ceremonies on my HD TV with the lights off. Pretty amazing! The colors and lights and intricate dances of people and technology is awesome. Wonder what it might be like to see it in person. Incredible. The dancers are in perfect synchronization, their timing perfect. What wonderful theatre it is. And women in colorful Chinese traditional costume are stunning, holy crap. I just heard that there are 15,000 performers working on the show. Hope you all get a chance to see some of this.

Yesterday was David's birthday. We started the celebration with a trip to my dentist. David and Jackson came along to watch me get my teeth cleaned. We thought it would be a good idea for Jackson to see me being worked on so that when we take him for his first cleaning in the near future he may be a little less freaked out. Not sure if it will really make a difference, but it sounds good. Now I just need to find a nearby pediatric dentist and get an appt. Probably the wrong time of year for that, back to school and all. But it needs to be done. Though my hygenist told me that kids don't build up tarter like adults do as a rule. Some exceptions of course, but they don't have to do much scraping on them, just check-ups and polishing.

After the dentist visit we had a nice family brunch at Kerby Lane, which I must point out to Elaine, is quite definitely better than that nice little local cafe we frequent. Lots of fresh fruit and the freshest tasting orange juice I ever had. We stuffed ourselves.

David's folks came over for dinner and birthday celebrating. And his mom made him a cat cake. I have been hearing about the legendary cat cake ever since I met David. Every birthday he talks about how his mother used to make him a cat cake every birthday. He talks so much about it that this year his mom decided to surprise him with one. And it was as tasty as it was pretty. (The true test of its worth is if fellow cancer-surviving blogger Radioactive Girl sees this picture and decided to copy it:)

David and I got our birthday presents from the Sray's who are always very generous. We got our own power washer so we don't have to borrow theirs. And both of us got all kinds of clothes. Mine are hip and trendy as usual. My mother-in-law knows how to dress me so I look cool. Enviable shopper that she is. I also got some gorgeous earrings and fancy soaps and a beautiful bright pink hand bag for fancy dress-up times.

Today at work was super-busy and I ran my buttocks off. It is so awesome that the Theatre is so busy with the show and the summer camps. We are just busy all the time now and with trying to get the new season up and all the bugs worked out, it sure makes for some hectic days. But I find that in the thick of it, when I am so busy I have to make a list to make sure I get to everything. And it is 3:00 on Friday and the printer shuts down in want of a new fusing and imaging unit and I am in the middle of printing 200 four-page, double-sided playbills for the children's performances in the morning and Progressive agrees to drop everything and come over immediately to work on it...well, when I am at my busiest and most productive all I can think is 'boy it's a good day to not have cancer.' And it is. I love working my ass off at the theatre. I feel respected by my co-workers and valued by the board members and appreciated by the patrons, who know I try to make them all feel like friends, especially the season ticket holders. It is a good day to have a job in the theatre. Thanks Palace, I love you, I do.

Tomorrow, bright and early, we are getting in the car and heading to my Dad's in Santa Anna. Haven't been out there, crap, I don't remember the last time. Easter-ish? It is time. My brother's band has a local gig and we will get to see them play. Should be fun.

We shall see how the 3-hour road trip sans diapers goes. Wish us luck!

Where's my inspiration?

Why do I always have so much to say, so much insight to share in the middle of the night after my kid wakes me up and I can't go back to sleep? And then I get done with a long day of mothering and theatre-ing and I can't remember a single nugget of wisdom that I wanted to share. I mean, I got nothin.

I can report that Jackson is about 98% potty-trained - even at night. He decided that the cheap HEB pull-up knock-offs that I bought were too scratchy and he wants his underwear instead. So we gave it a shot and he stays dry most nights. And at naptime at work. Naptime on the weekend he seems to backslide a little bit. And he has also decided that the stains in his underpants from using them for #2 are unacceptable. He won't wear them. So we may have to invest in some new underpants now that he is not using them as a toilet and understandably doesn't want to go around in stained panties. We shall see.

Friday July, 28th was the last time Jackson and I had fast food for lunch. This summer has been a fast food summer cause Jackson is out of school and I want to get to work early which means taking our lunch. And instead of packing it, we were getting Wendy's, Golden Chick or McDonald's several days a week. And my pants are getting tight and I am feeling sluggish and bloaty. And it isn't good for Jackson. I can justify him eating gravy by the spoonful right now because he is so tiny and needs the calories. But Tonya recently pointed out, not-judgingly, that he is building habits right now and the habit of fast food is not a good one. And my pants are getting tight. Did I mention that? The little bit of weight I dropped sweating in Whorehouse is back with a vengeance and I don't like it. You just can't eat that crap everyday and not pay the consequences, unless you are me at 15 and not almost 32. So we have been packing our lunch and eating better. We have been, I said, as if Jackson helps me pack the lunches. I guess he supervises.

Oh, I remembered something I was thinking about at 5:30 this morning. My port. I think I want to get it taken out. It is bothering me lately. It is a foreign object stuck in there threaded into a major vein (or artery, whatever). I worry about it coming loose or getting infected and I have to go in to get it flushed every month. It is uncomfortable getting it flushed and I have to pay for that. And I also think about the scar. What if we coordinated its removal with a plastic surgeon who could remove the large scar from the implantation and let my skin start fresh. I think it would just be a couple of extra cuts. Not too difficult.

Course I worry that I will get it out and my next scan will come back with lymphoma and I would be sorry I hadn't kept it. I guess I could just get another one put in. And I am supposed to be thinking positive thoughts that the cancer will never be back. And if that is the case then this port needs to go. I don't need it and I don't want it. So next scan is in September. If that is clean then we get it taken out. So there.

Tomorrow is David's birthday. Jackson and I bought one of his presents together and I have been paranoid that he is going to tell his Daddy what we bought him. So far it remains a surprise. We both got the day off and will be having a dinner with his parents either here or at their house. David can't decide what he would prefer.

I also have a dental appt tomorrow morning. So here's to no cavities!

Being a mom is tough.

Jackson had his last dancing class today. I went over at 11:30 to watch their presentation without high hopes of Jackson being a dance prodigy. All week I asked him to show me his dancing and he refused. So I figured today's presentation would be no different. Aaaaand I was right.

Jackson was very happy to see me, jumping around and yelling "Hi mommy!" and really wanting me to hold him. The problem with that was the teacher had put all the kids in formation on their pink 'x's and now that I was there, Jackson had no intention of staying in formation to perform the dances. I did my best to keep putting him back on his spot and encouraging him to follow the teacher and do what the other kids were doing. No dice. He did only a little of the dances - only the parts that involved jumping around and growling - and simply wanted me to hold him and go have lunch. As far as he was concerned, class was over. He'd been with the kids and teacher for his time and was ready to go. Performing is apparently not his interest.

I admit I was embarrassed at his behavior. After the 5-day camp, he was the only remaining boy, I think there were 3 initially. And it was a group of 3 to 5 year olds. Jackson was the youngest but he wasn't the only one who wasn't participating willingly. So it shouldn't have bothered me. But the 3 year old girl who wanted to leave the circle and go to her mom got a firmish rebuke, 'No, you go back and show me your dance.' And the little girl went back. I would love to have a child who just did what I said like that, man. And I felt like people were watching Jackson cut up and make noise and loudly proclaiming "Can we go now?" and were thinking I was a crappy mom who couldn't control her child.

But people don't know what we have been through; that I had to give up primary care of him two or three weeks of the month for 6 months. They don't know the memory burned into my brain, and probably his, of the day before I went to the hospital when I was lying on the bathroom floor, in misery, unable to move while he stood in the doorway crying for mommy to please get up, please feel better. I have no defense when Jackson wants me to hold him, cause this past year has been rough on us both. If he would rather climb into my arms than stand in a circle and perform dances, I won't force him to do it. I can't force him to do it. And he is used to getting his way in part because of the cancer shit and all the turmoil it caused.

I got him to do more than he wanted to, but not as much as I would have liked. I knew it wasn't going to go well when the teacher was passing out brightly-colored scarves for one dance. She got to him and he said "I want pink." She had three or four pinks in her hand, but she had a green one held out to him and wouldn't take it back and give him one of the pinks. "Everyone can't have pink," she said. The three little girls next got them. Sigh. I know my boy and this would never satisfy him. And I think this dance out of all of them might have excited him, they wave the sheer scarves to the music. But he had a green scarf, not a pink one. Therefore there could be no dancing. Not Jackson. He dropped his green scarf disdainfully on the floor and spent the entire song unsuccessfully trying to convince the little girl next to him to fork over the pink scarf.


He did get excited when they got to the mat work. Everyone got to show us two of their favorite things they learned. The tiger walk, the crab walk, the back bend, etc. Jackson got his turn.

Teacher:
"Jackson what do you want to show us?"

Jackson:
"Raaaaccceee Ccaaarrrr!"

Teacher: (to the parents)
"We didn't actually learn that one..."

Then the big finish. The teacher was getting all the kids in place for the "grand finale' when Jackson started the pee pee dance. "Oh no! Oh no! The pee pee is coming out!" I grabbed him and ran to the bathroom just in time, but we totally missed the grand finale. So I think Jackson may be too little to get anything out of Kinderdance. I know he had a good time and was very excited to go. But I am afraid he was the class pain in the butt.

I am not sure what we need to be doing differently discipline-wise. He is really developed a temper. He doesn't mind me until I threaten him with the loss of a toy or no Sponge Bob or something else he wants. He is willful. And at work he is starting to behave badly after his nap when I am waiting on customers or answering the phone. He is really smart. He waits until I am on the phone or talking to people and he stands at my feet making as much noise as he can and asks for "candy! candy! candy!" Because unfortunately I got into the habit of keeping hard candies in my purse to slip him to keep him quiet on just such occasions. That means that I taught him to act up at exactly those times because he knows I will give in cause I am desperately trying to work. I recently switched to sugar-free candies, but I feel taken advantage of and like a doormat mom when he does that. And I am not sure what to do about it. "Will you please excuse me while I beat my child," just doesn't seem to be the answer somehow.

I better write some good things about the boy now, since I am his mother and and really proud of him and love him no matter what his dancing ability. He has continued with the excellent potty habits. No accidents, and lots of telling me (and everyone else within ear-shot) that he needs to go.

Yesterday at work he crawled into my lap and picked up a post-it note pad from the desk. He was playing with it a bit and discovered if you lift half the sheets, you could make the pad talk! "Hello, my name is paper, I'm going to eat you," he said in a gravely voice to his hot wheels car, whom the paper promptly gobbled.

And today on the way home an ambulance passed us with lights and sirens on. Jackson asked, "Where is the ambulance going?" I told him it was going to pick up a sick person and take them to the hospital. Jackson said, "I'm sick. I'm veerrry sick. Can the ambulance come and pick up meeeee?"

He is constantly asking if I am happy. If I am scolding him for something, he always asks me if I am happy. And if I say I am not happy because he won't help me pick up his toys or some other thing, he automatically turns into the Verizon guy - in my face with "Are you happy now, mom? Are you happy now? Are you happy?" Until I finally say, "Yeesss, I'm happy, geez!"

Being a mom is hard. I guess I am entering the stage of having a kiddo embarrass me in public and I don't know if there really is any way around that. I mean, all kids, every single one of them, are going to have bad days and scream their heads off in the line at HEB when you have a whole cart full of groceries to buy. And of course retailers certainly don't make it any easier on you with the candy and toys up front all the time, but that is a whole nuther blog post.

Is this some kind of a joke?

Um...just a question to all of my real-life friends. Did one or several of you decide to play a joke on us and break into my house to set my brand new DVR to record all episodes of Law & Order playing anytime on any channel? Cause when I got home from work today and turned on the TV, it was trying to record Law & Order and failed, telling me the DVR was too full to record anything. "How strange," I thought. I have only recorded one movie and an hour-long TV show. How could that fill it up completely. Heh. If you tell your DVR to record all episodes of Law & Order playing on any channel at any time, which I certainly did not, the DVR will be full in two days. As I deleted the countless number of episodes from my stuffed DVR, I got to thinking that would be a terrific joke to play on a buddy. Just anytime you are visiting a friend's house and they get up to use the john, quickly grab their remote and set it to record all of the Law & Orders. And if you really wanted to get them, add the SVU's in there for good measure. I know I got a good laugh deleting them all. But then I started to feel guilty for not looking to see if there were Jerry Orbach episodes and watching those in tribute.

So...ahem Elaine...ahem if you came over here and did that, good one. BTW, I have just ordered your birthday present...

In other fabulous news, Jackson has made significant progress this week in potty training! He hasn't had an accident in days and even more exciting is that he has begun to tell me that he needs to go - numba one and numba two! He has lost his panic at pooing on the potty and in fact has started doing it 3 or 4 times a day! I am sure we will have more accidents especially at nap and overnight times. But things seem to have clicked into place in his mind and he is really doing great. I am so happy! He peed on the potty for the first time May 26th, we put him in underpants about June 12th and this last week of July, he is finally taking responsibility for saying he needs to go. Nice.

Course I probably just jinxed it by writing that last paragraph, so I take it all back. It is going just terribly ;)

It has been very busy at work this week and since Jackson is in his Kinderdance camp, I have been working most of the days. And I am having the best time. How weird is it that I am happy energized at work because it is busy with opening a show tomorrow and opening a whole season in September? The phone is ringing, people are coming in to by tickets and order season tickets and I am adding up the transaction reports at the end of the day and posting deposits of thousands of dollars. Granted a lot of the money coming in is for the Summer Theatre School still going on for the kids. But I still love doing the reports and seeing how much money we are bringing in and feeling happy. Happy that I have this job, happy that I am useful and productive and working in theatre. And happy that I am not sick. I love that part. So it has been busy and I have been busting butt and enjoying it.

Tomorrow is the last day of Jackson's camp and I get to go see the short presentation tomorrow at 11:30. I am not expecting him to have mastered any choreography he may have been taught, I just hope he has been having fun and will perform something. I have asked all week to show me some dancing and he says no. But he has been anxious in the mornings to get in the car and go to 'dancing school' and can hardly wait to get there.

Ha, I just had to stop for a miute because Jackson told me "the pee pee's trying to come out." It is funny, he does the pee pee dance and everything.

Are you supposed to feel such pride when your kid has learned to hold his urine till sitting on the toilet? I am so proud.

Spicy Chili, Dancing and a Benefit

On Friday night I went to a benefit for a local theatre company and enjoyed good food, good company and great entertainment from local actor/singers - most of whom I am privileged to know personally. What a treat it was. Here is a picture of me and the lovely and very talented Andrea' who sang gorgeously as is her usual.


I made chili for dinner tonight, attempting to replicate the unwritten recipe that David uses. We realized that if I don't continue to cook dinner as usual during David's rehearsal process would lead to him eating out twice a day and me and Jackson eating frozen or fast food too much. So I am cooking the same amount of dinner I always make and David will take his portion to lunch the next day and also make sandwiches or other packed lunch/dinner options. The problem I ran into tonight is that I am not the one that normally seasons the chili. And when I sat down to eat tonight, a bowl for me and for Jackson, my first bite proved that I don't know how to make chili. I kept seasoning it and then tasting it and it was too bland. So I would add more chili powder and red pepper. Too bland. Didn't realize you have to let that stuff cook in a bit, then taste it. So after I let it cook and sat down to eat it, I realized it was spicy. Too spicy for little boys to eat. Luckily I realized this before he got any. Course he wasn't interested in eating any of it anyway. He came over, sniffed it, declared it 'stinky' and took off. I made him take a bite of one of the cornbread sticks I made and he declared it 'yucky bread.' So I was oh for two tonight on feeding Jackson. So I fixed him something else and enjoyed my stinky spicy chili and my yucky bread. Mmmmm...mmmmmm...good.

Today was Jackson's first day of Kinderdance camp. Not sure why every class that occurs in the summer is called a camp. To me, camp means you stay overnight...for at least a weekend. Church camp, band camp, cheerleading camp...that sort of thing. Jackson's 'camp' is just this week, 9a-12p. No camping required.

I was very nervous about it, seeing as it is a class for 3 to 5 year olds and they have to be potty trained. And Jackson is only somewhat potty trained. My hope is that if I dropped him off with an empty bladder and they don't feed them tons of liquid and take at least one organized 'everyone must pee' break, and the teacher helped him pull up his pants, he would pass as potty-trained. And today at least, he passed. The teacher took one look at him when we walked in and asked if he'd gone potty. He is a little guy, so that probably clued her in to the possibly lying mommy. I don't feel bad though. He can stay dry easily for three hours. He does it often. He just doesn't always say he needs to go when he needs to go. And if he is really having fun, I worry he won't say anything. But really, it is three hours. I think he can do it.

And we have made some real progress in the last week on the potty. He started to tell me last week that he needed to poop. But he was really panicky, like he was scared to go. He didn't want to go on the potty, didn't want a diaper, didn't want to mess his underpants. He'd say, "I don't want to go poo poo." Like that would make it just go away. So when he indicated he needed to go, I told him we would go to Target right now if you poop on the potty right now. And that did it. And was a real turning point. I bribed him a couple more times with special treats of candy and we are now to the point that when I put him on the potty to pee, he will sometimes ask "Can I go poo poo?" He seems to be much less afraid of the potty for numba two and I couldn't be more happy.

Of course he still is having accidents. Mostly during naps or at night. And he doesn't much like it. I was up changing a poop pull-up at four this morning. He came in and got me. Why doesn't he ever wake his daddy up for these things?

So Jackson is learning some basics of dance and movement and seems to be enjoying it. But people seem to be surprised that we put our boy in dance class. That makes me smile. The way I see it, he will get plenty of sports in his life. They practically force it on you in public school. What they don't have much of is music, art, and dance. Creative arts. These are the things I prefer to spend my money on to make sure he is exposed to. And I think dance is cool. David agrees. We both bemoan our lack of dance training as actors. And we don't intend to force Jackson to be an actor, but until and if he lets us know he isn't interested we intend for Jackson to have every opportunity to be artistic and creative. So Kinderdance it is. So what if there are ony 2 boys and 10 girls in the class. That kind of makes me proud. I like not always running with the herd.

Besides, we aren't interested in supporting the boy scouts. I don't trust any organization that doesn't recognize the difference between a gay person and a pedophile.

I have wheels once more!

I finally got my car back this evening and the great news is that it didn't cost me a dime. Not a penny. I had a blown intake gasket, not that I know what that is. And said gasket is covered under my 100k mile power train warranty, not that I know what that is. I am just glad it is fixed and didn't eat into my bank account. It drove quite nicely home from the dealership; it was my nice, happy little Hyundai again. It sure seems like a lot of serious things have broken on this car - cracked struts, something with the axle last month, I can't remember what else. But as many times as I have had it in the shop, the only money I have spent is oil changes and tires. And one battery. Oh, last month I took it in because the break lights wouldn't go off. That was under warranty too.

So do they give you the warranty because they know you are going to need it? Cause as long as I don't have to spend a ton on repairs and the people at the dealership are nice to me, which they always are, I will continue to have a good relationship with and be likely to buy another Hyundai. Next time I want a Sonata, it is the size bigger sedan than the Elatra. Not for a while though, I really like not having a car payment.


The house is quiet. David is at rehearsal and Jackson has been asleep since 7:20. Mom brought Cam and Eli over again and we went swimming at my neighborhood pool. Jackson swimmied around the pool with the big boys for a while and then they played on the playground. They didn't get here till nearly one, so Jackson missed his nap today.

He was an absolute bear by 3:30 this afternoon and I am very proud that I managed to not beat him. I understood he was overtired. And he has a little runny nose so he may not be feeling great.

In fact he just woke up a little crying, says he feels like throwing up. But then he just rolled over and went back to sleep, so I am not sure.

My house is a wreck from two whole days of being housebound with the boys visiting. My kitchen floor is covered in dirt and grass and crumbs and I don't know what. Whatever boys track in when they come in and out. I did manage to do most of my laundry yesterday and today. And I have been watching as much of The Deadliest Catch as I can. Why do I love this show about Alaskan crab fisherman? Cause their job is crazy dangerous and exciting? Cause they are in negative temps and are wet and still work their butts off 36 to 72 hours at a time? I dunno. Those guys are crazy and I can't imagine living like them. But I love to watch. Especially in HD.

We kicked out Dish Network and went back to Time Warner Cable. Upgraded to an HD/DVR and are now watching actual HD on our HD TV for the first time after a year of ownership. It looks awesome, and I thought it looked good before. So we have a cheap rate locked in for two years and expect to have to switch back to dish when they try to double our rates after our 2 years is up. I guess you have to play the game if you don't want to get screwed. Dish Network wanted to charge us $175 to upgrade to HD/DVR and then a fee per month. When we go back as new customers they will do it for free. So there.


So I got a birthday present early this week. My mother-in-law took me to the Coach outlet and let me pick a purse. So I chose this one. Something I can use every day and should last for a while. We got it for half of what new ones are selling for on Ebay. The store was packed with people. All of the discount designer purse hunters. And there I was in the thick of it. Me. Funny. I can say that I love the smell of the leather and the quality of the stitching and workmanship. This is not a Wal-Mart purse. Of course it is an outlet mall buy, which means I would most certainly be called out as a poser for carrying last year's design by any moneyed fashionista who saw me. But what the hell, I love it and even love the fact that it didn't cost even close to what they charge online or in regular Coach stores. So thank you so much, Susanne. And thank you to my husband, cause I bought myself a matching wallet-from him-for my birthday.

My car is broken

I am carless today. Had to take my car in to the Hyundai dealership for repairs. It has been acting up lately - acting like it isn't getting enough gas in idle and trying to stall. Then last night when I got home I put it in park and the RPM's revved up to 3 1/2 like I was stepping on the gas, but I wasn't. I put it back in drive and it went back to shaking and acting like it wasn't getting enough gas. This morning when I drove it in I had to put on my hazard lights and drive really slowly because it wasn't shifting into higher gear - just revving up the RPM's. Scary. But luckily the dealership is very close to my house. We thought about taking it to a shop David uses a lot for his Subaru, but I would have had to get on the interstate and I was too scared to. It will probably cost a ton more at the dealership though. Sigh.

I guess it doesn't matter, it is only money. I just am tired of bleeding money. I owe almost $800 in medical bills that should be arriving in the mail any day now. Actually, I have $450 of them sitting in my kitchen and I am waiting for the rest. David gets a bonus next month, which means we should be able to pay it, but it just sucks that his bonus can't go to something fun instead. (No David, you can't have a moped, dammit!)I just hope my car doesn't require some crazy amount of work. And I hope I am not stranded here, not able to work or go anywhere for very long.

My sister's boys are staying at my mom's for a few days and Jackson and I were over there last night so they could all play. I was going to go again after work, but then my car went kaput. So my brought them over here for a little while to play after they had lunch with my grandmother. Cameron and Elijah tired Jackson out and he's fast asleep in his bed. I'll probably have to wake him up soon so he won't be up all night.

David started rehearsals for his next show yesterday. I love you, you're perfect, now change. It is a musical with 2 men and 2 women playing all the parts. It is kind of an everyman/woman show about relationship and marriage cliches. He is really excited to be in it and the other three cast members are first class singers and actors as well. It should be quite a show. It will open Sept 19th.

The downside is that he rehearses in Austin and coming home after work before rehearsal would be wasteful. So he is working 9a-6p on rehearsal days and going strait there. So for a couple of months, Jackson and I won't see him much. And I will have to carry nearly all of the Jackson load on weekdays. Cept, he thinks he might have Sat rehearsals to, but I am blocking that out and trying not to think about it. Let's just say that he is going to owe me big after this an had better produce one hell of a show. And a kick-ass fifth anniversary weekend in October after the show closes(hint hint).

Happy Cancerversary

Last year on July 16th I learned that I had cancer. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it. I didn't want to answer my phone or see anyone. I even dodged a few of my best friend's calls which says a lot. I did the bare minimum in communication. I spoke briefly to my Dad. For everyone else's benefit, I wrote a quick blog that didn't reveal any panic or hysteria I may have felt.

I didn't cry on the way home from my bronchoscopy. I chose to ride home with my mom; David drove behind us in his car. I was afraid I couldn't hold it together if I rode with him and alone he had the opportunity to call his folks and our closest friends with the news. I don't know what he said to them. How he broke it to them. I don't know how they reacted. I never asked.

My mom watched Jackson that evening and I had David take me to a mexican restaurant for dinner where the salsa burned like hell going down my throat, raw from the broncoscopy.


He and I broke down that night in bed. We sobbed like crazy and held each other. We didn't know anything about what would come next. We didn't even know what kind of cancer it was. We were told to hope for Lymphoma, Hodgkins, preferably. I didn't know how to act or what to feel. I just kept imagining my own damned funeral and hyperventilating. Scared doesn't begin to cover it.


Today I worked my butt off at the Palace. Worked hard to get the new season info ready for the website and wrote down all the questions that came up that I needed to ask the webmaster at my 6:30 p.m. dinner meeting. Had an incredibly productive meeting where the office, production side and webmaster all got on the same page with everything we need to do to go live on the new season sales on the website. Just got home half an hour ago.

Got my hair cut between work and my meeting.

It has been a very full day.

What a difference a year makes.

Jackson's Birthday!

Today is Jackson's 3rd birthday. It is now 2:38 p.m. CST. Three years ago he entered the world and our lives have been enriched and our pocketbooks emptied. Ok, so not totally. But you get the idea.

We had a little family party for him yesterday and he got some great gifts. The most fun was with the bubbles. They have battery operated machines now that blow hundreds of bubbles. The days of blowing bubbles with a wand till you pass out are over. Now the child can run and play in a cloud of bubbles of his own making. We got tons of clothes and art supplies and fishing poles and a few cars, of course. He had a great time. Today he asked me "what happened to my birthday? Where did it go?" I explained that today was actually his birthday and we had cupcakes at the Palace and he got another couple of gifts. But that really your birthday only comes once a year and you have to wait for it to come around again. He asked, "Can I have another birthday now?" He doesn't get it. He thinks birthdays are bestowed upon him by his parents. And why can't he have another one now?



I guess the lazy blogger has some updating to do on the last week. Don't you hate it when people refer to themselves in the third person? Marsha does. So she isn't going to write like this anymore.

My squirrel baby lived through the night in a box at my bedside. Both David and I got up in the night to check on him, making sure he was warm enough and still with us. In the morning Jackson and I took him to the wildlife rescue in Austin where a donation of $35 (not required) paid for him to be cared for and raised and released back into the wild when he - or she - is ready. In the broad view saving one squirrel probably doesn't mean much, but I just couldn't let him die. Didn't seem right and since I can spare $35 and the gas to get him there I took him in. I kinda miss him though. It is really nice to hold an infant, even if he is only a little bit bigger than your thumb. I guess I really do want another baby.

But could someone else do the potty-training when it is time? Cause this shit is hard. I am now bribing my son with all the premium bath products I can find and even then I only get a tiny bit of poop in the potty. The vast majority of the poo is made in his pants after he is put to bed. Where a boy can go in private with no one pressuring him - geez. I get it. I do. But dammit, he has to learn this. It is your ticket into society. No poo in potty, no pre-school. Sigh.


On Thursday I spoke at a charity skeet shooting event organized by my co-worker's husband. It was a real guys event. Skeet shooting tournament, auctioning of rifles, hunts, deer feeders and knives. And steak. Lots of steak. Proceeds from the auction went to American Cancer Society and they made aver $4000. I even helped with the auction by carrying around this gun to show it off before-hand. I didn't dress as the chemo queen. It just didn't seem like that kind of event. It was outdoors and attended by mostly men. But I kinda wish I had worn my costume because it was a tough crowd. No snickers at my lame jokes, no nodding in sympathy, no tears. But I think I did reach them because several of the old guys came up and shook my hand afterwards and thanked me for sharing my story. But I could have done better. It was windy and I had a hand-held mic. So I had to hold my speech in one hand and the mic in the other and when I had to turn pages the wind almost ripped them outta my hands and the mic got in the way. It was awkward. Not to mention that the man who introduced me saw that I had a speech in my hand and said "Aw, you don't need to make a long speech honey, you're pretty enough to just stand here and say hello." Totally threw me off. WTF? Perhaps my speech was not appropriate for the event, perhaps these manly men didn't want to hear a 'pretty girl' say anything. Perhaps I should have just carried the gun around and left it at that. I had a split second to decide how to respond to that and it threw me for a second. But I decided, No dammit! I was invited to share my story and I choose to share it in a prepared speech full of heart and witty truisms. So there.

Baby in the House

My MRI experience, with the help of a milligram of ativan, was good. The nurse giving me the contrast dye used a 25 gauge needle, no digging around in my arm with the knitting needles this time. Smooth as butter, this gal. I barely felt it. Kept wondering when she was going to start. The ativan made me a little sleepy and a little loopy, just enough that when they started sliding the table I was bound to into the long MRI chamber, I didn't even flinch. Just thought, "ok, here we go." Ativan is an anti-anxiety drug that I used during chemo for nausea and to put me out on chemo nights. And this small amount that I had left was just perfect to kill the anxiety that kept me up all night. In fact, when we got home, my mom watched Jackson and I slept for most of the day. Combination of the drug and the lack of sleep the night before.

Course I may not sleep tonight on account of I have a newborn in the house. Yup. I found a baby on our family walk this evening. He's a newborn squirrel, so newborn we weren't even sure what the hell he was. Just his pink hairless guy on the sidewalk. David and Jackson and I were all standing there staring at him when he kind of flinched and rolled over, proving he was not yet dead. His movement really startled Jackson who probably saw him as some pink hairless villain from Spongebob or one of those other freaky Nickelodeon cartoons. Jackson started screaming and crying and jumped into David's arms and demanded we get away from there. So we went, but I couldn't stop seeing him lying there with the ants circling.

So when we got home I googled newborn squirrel and confirmed his species and read that the mother would reclaim him unless he was too cold. She wouldn't even care if he smelled like humans as long as he was still warm. So I went back for him to see if I could warm him up and put him in a box for his mom to find him. We alerted the people who lived there about the box and the baby squirrel and I went to check on him twice - still there. The sites I was looking at said don't leave him overnight, she won't get him after dark but predators would. So I brought him home and put a warm pack in his box, gave him a tiny bit of pedialyte like the rescue site said and I will keep him till morning.

Not sure what to do then. I can either go back to his tree and try to get his mom to come get him, which would mean hanging out there to watch in the distance so that a cat doesn't get him and that he doesn't get too cold. Or I can call the wildlife rescue people in Austin in the morning and see if they will let me take him in. It says the cost of rehabbing a squirrel is $35. I am not sure if this means they will take him if I give them $35, but I will certainly write them a check.

I just want him to be ok. I wish his mom would find him, but I don't know if that is gonna happen now. Some might say I should have just left him alone in the first place, but when I first went back to check out the situation I noticed that he had siblings. Near where I found him were two more. Except these two were covered completely in ant mountains and were decimated. He was lucky he fell near the grass, the others fell in the street. I just couldn't walk away.

Now if I can keep him safe from the cats tonight and get him to his mom or the wildlife people tomorrow, we can call him rescued. I think probably the wildlife people, because I can't sit in front of someone else's house down the block for several hours, with Jackson, to watch for his mom, who may or may not come. Sigh. Decisions.