I got the response from Dr. Rinn, and went off the Neurontin. We'll see how things change. Last night the hot flashes woke me up several times, whereas on Neurontin I was sleeping better, but c'est la vie.
Today we planned on going snowshoeing with some PEPS friends, but the weather didn't cooperate - too much snow. The passes were still closed last night, and we decided that even if they opened in time, we didn't want to risk avalanches, snow on the roadway, etc. Bummer. We'll try again next weekend.
We did have a fun morning, though. The group that had planned on snowshoeing got together at Lincoln Park for some play time, and it was great to be outdoors on a dry day. We had an impromptu lunch afterwards ("I've got cheese" "I've got soup" "I'll bring fruit") and everyone, adults and kids, had a great time.
Now, Tessa and I are home, Ryan's on a ride with Paul, and the evening looks quiet. That's nice, actually.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
hmmm
I have the gift, or the burden, of being pretty introspective.
On the one hand, my brain is able to say, "I find it interesting that you are so unmotivated. This looks like creeping depression, and there are steps you need to take to improve things. First...." (and then a list ensues, like call therapist, adjust anti-depressant, do meditation, keep gratitude lists, etc. etc.).
And on the other hand, I just want to pout and moan and be a grouch, and frankly, I feel rather entitled to do so.
I'm looking into side effects of Neurontin and Actonel, because those are my new drugs, and I feel like my mood has altered for the worse in the last week, since I started them.
I'm okay. The world is not ending. It just takes a lot more effort to be on time, to read my email, to return phone calls, to fold laundry than it should. This too shall pass.
Edited to add:
I just checked, and one of the side effects of Neurontin is "changes in mood," for which it says I should contact my doctor immediately. I emailed the fabulous Dr. Rinn to see what she says. My gut instinct says that this is it, but my gut instinct is not always correct. Frankly, I'd rather go back to sleeplessness than to feel this lousy, so my fingers are crossed that this IS the problem.
On the one hand, my brain is able to say, "I find it interesting that you are so unmotivated. This looks like creeping depression, and there are steps you need to take to improve things. First...." (and then a list ensues, like call therapist, adjust anti-depressant, do meditation, keep gratitude lists, etc. etc.).
And on the other hand, I just want to pout and moan and be a grouch, and frankly, I feel rather entitled to do so.
I'm looking into side effects of Neurontin and Actonel, because those are my new drugs, and I feel like my mood has altered for the worse in the last week, since I started them.
I'm okay. The world is not ending. It just takes a lot more effort to be on time, to read my email, to return phone calls, to fold laundry than it should. This too shall pass.
Edited to add:
I just checked, and one of the side effects of Neurontin is "changes in mood," for which it says I should contact my doctor immediately. I emailed the fabulous Dr. Rinn to see what she says. My gut instinct says that this is it, but my gut instinct is not always correct. Frankly, I'd rather go back to sleeplessness than to feel this lousy, so my fingers are crossed that this IS the problem.
taking a break
Here is the letter I sent to Komen today.
---------
I am sorry that I have fallen off the map in the past week or so, with so many deadlines. I love the work with Komen, and I know how important it is.
I am coming to the realization (slowly and uncomfortably) that I need to take a break from dealing with breast cancer issues. Despite my desire to be active, hands-on with Komen, I am finding that it is taking an emotional toll. I am still struggling with the effects of my treatment and the handful of pills that I continue to take, and I need to schedule another surgery, and my mind is bogged down with thoughts of cancer. Unfortunately, though my work at Komen is positive, I think that it's adding to my inability to move on to a post-cancer space right now.
So, with regret, and with many apologies (and no small amount of embarrassment), I need to bow out for a while. Perhaps before this year's race, and certainly next year, I will be back, but in a better head space. I am spending some time trying to figure out my boundaries with cancer issues, and finding a better balance in my life. Next year Tessa will be in kindergarten and I won't have to juggle the times so much, and that will help, too.
My apologies for the inconvenience that I know this causes you.
-------------
I feel weird about it, and have all kinds of other emotions as well, but I think it's what I need to do.
I wish this were not the case.
---------
I am sorry that I have fallen off the map in the past week or so, with so many deadlines. I love the work with Komen, and I know how important it is.
I am coming to the realization (slowly and uncomfortably) that I need to take a break from dealing with breast cancer issues. Despite my desire to be active, hands-on with Komen, I am finding that it is taking an emotional toll. I am still struggling with the effects of my treatment and the handful of pills that I continue to take, and I need to schedule another surgery, and my mind is bogged down with thoughts of cancer. Unfortunately, though my work at Komen is positive, I think that it's adding to my inability to move on to a post-cancer space right now.
So, with regret, and with many apologies (and no small amount of embarrassment), I need to bow out for a while. Perhaps before this year's race, and certainly next year, I will be back, but in a better head space. I am spending some time trying to figure out my boundaries with cancer issues, and finding a better balance in my life. Next year Tessa will be in kindergarten and I won't have to juggle the times so much, and that will help, too.
My apologies for the inconvenience that I know this causes you.
-------------
I feel weird about it, and have all kinds of other emotions as well, but I think it's what I need to do.
I wish this were not the case.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Slow learner
I was just thinking....in regard to cancer, I'm a slow learner.
What i mean by that is that I feel like I'm still in major treatment. I haven't moved on. I look at my posts here, and most of them reference cancer or treatment in some way. Two and a half years later, and I'm still in Cancerland.
In some ways, this makes me chastise myself. I have enough stage IV friends to know how ridiculous it is for me to obsess on this. My stage IV friends are out living their lives, parenting their children, working at their jobs, participating in their communities, etc. And here I am, "only" early stage, and not moving on.
Part of this is because of the aggressive level of treatment I've insisted upon. I still see my onc every three months; it's only a couple of months since I stopped going to the chemo ward regularly to get Herceptin. My recon is (by my own standards) a mess, and I'm still not done with surgeries. I take major handfuls of pills throughout the day, and I feel their side effects.
I also know early stage breast cancer women who have moved on, who aren't immersing themselves in these thoughts, who have mostly put cancer behind them. I envy that. Will I ever get to that stage?
I'm trying to learn.
For me, part of going to church is about learning this process. At WSUU, I'm hoping to find ways in which to encourage peace within my self. I'm doing lots of reading on issues of spirituality to supplement that learning. I'm trying to find my way out of the fog.
But I think I'm a slow learner in this regard.
What i mean by that is that I feel like I'm still in major treatment. I haven't moved on. I look at my posts here, and most of them reference cancer or treatment in some way. Two and a half years later, and I'm still in Cancerland.
In some ways, this makes me chastise myself. I have enough stage IV friends to know how ridiculous it is for me to obsess on this. My stage IV friends are out living their lives, parenting their children, working at their jobs, participating in their communities, etc. And here I am, "only" early stage, and not moving on.
Part of this is because of the aggressive level of treatment I've insisted upon. I still see my onc every three months; it's only a couple of months since I stopped going to the chemo ward regularly to get Herceptin. My recon is (by my own standards) a mess, and I'm still not done with surgeries. I take major handfuls of pills throughout the day, and I feel their side effects.
I also know early stage breast cancer women who have moved on, who aren't immersing themselves in these thoughts, who have mostly put cancer behind them. I envy that. Will I ever get to that stage?
I'm trying to learn.
For me, part of going to church is about learning this process. At WSUU, I'm hoping to find ways in which to encourage peace within my self. I'm doing lots of reading on issues of spirituality to supplement that learning. I'm trying to find my way out of the fog.
But I think I'm a slow learner in this regard.
Drug update
On Monday, I took my first Actonel (bisphosphonate - bone builder). I am required to take it once a week, and when I take it, I need to abstain from food and drink (except water to wash it down) for a minimum of a half hour, and I need to remain upright. This is generally not a problem, as I don't wake up hungry (I'd happily skip breakfast except I know I shouldn't) although waiting for coffee makes me rather sad! The drug often causes nausea and flu-like symptoms, especially after the first couple of doses, and that may be why I felt lousy last night. I felt achy and tired beyond belief, but woke up feeling more normal. I'm relieved that this is all I'm experiencing from this med, as the list of side effects is long and scary.
I also went for my annual exam with my G.P. yesterday. We reviewed my cholesterol levels (210) and she explained that the overall number is misleading because my LDL is within acceptable levels and my HDL is above the minimum, so I'm actually doing quite well in that regard. Unfortunately (because I find it unpleasant) even though my cervix has been removed I still need annual pap smears - whatever! - but apparently everything looked normal.
I also discussed all the meds I'm taking, including Lexapro. I've been at the lowest dose (10mg), and we agreed to up it to the next highest dose (20mg). I am certainly still not myself, and if I can get chemical help with that, I'll take it.
Depression is very interesting. It's hard to tell what is "life" (when life involves cancer treatment, bills, and the rest, it's understandable that not everything would be 100% rosy) and what is depression. It's hard to tell how I feel; it's hard to tell if things are in order. I do know that I would generally classify myself as an eternal optimist, as a very happy person, as someone who seeks and finds joy....and I know that it seems a lot harder these days. I find myself having negative thoughts and then the "sane" part of my brain says "whoa! back up, and stop being so negative!" but these thoughts surprise me. I'm used to expecting the best of the world, and when I find my mind moaning and complaining and (worst of all) resigned to the fact that things just suck and there's nothing I can do about it....well, then I know I need help. We'll see if Lexapro has some answers for me. I don't want to be Debbie Downer.
I do wonder if the reason I'm so tired is depression, or something else. I will say that the sleeping aids (Neurontin) seem to be helping, and so maybe I can catch up.
I also went for my annual exam with my G.P. yesterday. We reviewed my cholesterol levels (210) and she explained that the overall number is misleading because my LDL is within acceptable levels and my HDL is above the minimum, so I'm actually doing quite well in that regard. Unfortunately (because I find it unpleasant) even though my cervix has been removed I still need annual pap smears - whatever! - but apparently everything looked normal.
I also discussed all the meds I'm taking, including Lexapro. I've been at the lowest dose (10mg), and we agreed to up it to the next highest dose (20mg). I am certainly still not myself, and if I can get chemical help with that, I'll take it.
Depression is very interesting. It's hard to tell what is "life" (when life involves cancer treatment, bills, and the rest, it's understandable that not everything would be 100% rosy) and what is depression. It's hard to tell how I feel; it's hard to tell if things are in order. I do know that I would generally classify myself as an eternal optimist, as a very happy person, as someone who seeks and finds joy....and I know that it seems a lot harder these days. I find myself having negative thoughts and then the "sane" part of my brain says "whoa! back up, and stop being so negative!" but these thoughts surprise me. I'm used to expecting the best of the world, and when I find my mind moaning and complaining and (worst of all) resigned to the fact that things just suck and there's nothing I can do about it....well, then I know I need help. We'll see if Lexapro has some answers for me. I don't want to be Debbie Downer.
I do wonder if the reason I'm so tired is depression, or something else. I will say that the sleeping aids (Neurontin) seem to be helping, and so maybe I can catch up.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Girl party
Well, Tessa's week of birthday is coming to an end...at last. Mama's tired!
Today's dog and cat themed party was a success, and we think that Tessa and her girlfriends had a good time. We kept it small - just Tessa and five guests - and did lots of crafts.
Friday, January 25, 2008
More drugs
Well, today I visited with the onc (love her!) and picked up four new prescriptions. For a gal who does not enjoy taking drugs, this is a bit disheartening.
To my current list of:
aromatase inhibitor
thyroid hormone replacement
anti-depressant
I'm adding:
Bisphosphenate (bone density builder)
Nerve pain drug (to help with hot flashes - another usage)
Sleep aid (because I wake up more than I can count each night and I'm exhausted as a result)
Antibiotic (for my sinus infection)
Plus, I need more vitamin D, in addition to all of the calcium I'm taking
With each drug, comes side effects. These can range from the barely noticeable to the miserable to the lethal. No trick guessing what I'm hoping for in that regard! Suffice it to say that I've held off for a long time on adding new drugs to my regimen, but it's time.
Two and a half years out, and this is what I'm doing. Wow. "Over" isn't in my vocabulary.
And I got a referral to another plastic surgeon to look at corrections. I'm not sure when I'll follow up, but eventually I will. I do not want to look like this forever.
Additional notes:
My CEA, CA 125 and CA 27.29 (all cancer markers) came back with all of the correct results: no evidence of disease or progression today. Excellent news.
Dr. Rinn suggests that I avoid further scans, as research shows that at this point they're not of much value to me. (Girls, get your mammograms. Don't forget that my boobs don't have real breast tissue, so mammograms aren't for me....but they ARE for you!) I'm relieved. The scans make me totally freak out, and studies show that, at my stage of treatment, they don't even prolong life, so forget about it. Needless to say, if I present with symptoms, I'll get scans, but I can avoid routine scans now.
(This is not quackery or hiding my head in the sand. The evidence is well documented in large studies presented in adjudicated medical journals. I promise.)
Additionally, I'm learning that bisphosphonates are often used to prevent and treat bone mets, and that some clinical trials are showing them to be excellent at preventing or halting the progression of bone mets. I'm doing the bone strengtheners because of issues with osteoporosis, but I'm delighted that additionally they may fend off the beast.
To my current list of:
aromatase inhibitor
thyroid hormone replacement
anti-depressant
I'm adding:
Bisphosphenate (bone density builder)
Nerve pain drug (to help with hot flashes - another usage)
Sleep aid (because I wake up more than I can count each night and I'm exhausted as a result)
Antibiotic (for my sinus infection)
Plus, I need more vitamin D, in addition to all of the calcium I'm taking
With each drug, comes side effects. These can range from the barely noticeable to the miserable to the lethal. No trick guessing what I'm hoping for in that regard! Suffice it to say that I've held off for a long time on adding new drugs to my regimen, but it's time.
Two and a half years out, and this is what I'm doing. Wow. "Over" isn't in my vocabulary.
And I got a referral to another plastic surgeon to look at corrections. I'm not sure when I'll follow up, but eventually I will. I do not want to look like this forever.
Additional notes:
My CEA, CA 125 and CA 27.29 (all cancer markers) came back with all of the correct results: no evidence of disease or progression today. Excellent news.
Dr. Rinn suggests that I avoid further scans, as research shows that at this point they're not of much value to me. (Girls, get your mammograms. Don't forget that my boobs don't have real breast tissue, so mammograms aren't for me....but they ARE for you!) I'm relieved. The scans make me totally freak out, and studies show that, at my stage of treatment, they don't even prolong life, so forget about it. Needless to say, if I present with symptoms, I'll get scans, but I can avoid routine scans now.
(This is not quackery or hiding my head in the sand. The evidence is well documented in large studies presented in adjudicated medical journals. I promise.)
Additionally, I'm learning that bisphosphonates are often used to prevent and treat bone mets, and that some clinical trials are showing them to be excellent at preventing or halting the progression of bone mets. I'm doing the bone strengtheners because of issues with osteoporosis, but I'm delighted that additionally they may fend off the beast.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Follow up from last night's post
Here is the post I put on YSC today. I'm struggling with these questions. Anyone have answers for me?
------------
So there I am, going along my merry way, 2.5 years NED, and these stupid thoughts are still driving me.
This year, my daughter turned 5 (yesterday). I threw her three parties (two down, one to go). First, a family party with family and family friends (a pool party); then, a PEPS party (a group we belong to with 7 families; we met when our kids were newborns and are very close); then, a "girlfriends" party with five of her best friends (that one will have traditional birthday games, a pinata, etc.). It's a bit much - heck, as a kid I didn't count on ONE birthday party, and my kid thinks that three is perfectly normal.
So as I was cleaning up last night after party number two, I was feeling exhausted and wondering why the hell we went so overboard.
The answer struck me with complete clarity: if I won't get to see her 16th birthday party, at least I can throw her 16 parties. If I'm going to die, then I better give her every bit of love and adoration and "special" time possible before I go.
What the hell? I thought I was just having a good time with my child, and suddenly it occurs to me that I'm living my life as if I don't have much time left. When did that start? Am I still leading my life as a cancer victim, and not a survivor?
I really thought I was further along than this. It's so frustrating to find myself really stuck in these thoughts when I thought I was more at peace. Anyone else? How do I move on? What's your advice? Or is anyone struggling like this with me?
I'm two and a half years out. Why is this taking so long? (stamps foot)
------------
So there I am, going along my merry way, 2.5 years NED, and these stupid thoughts are still driving me.
This year, my daughter turned 5 (yesterday). I threw her three parties (two down, one to go). First, a family party with family and family friends (a pool party); then, a PEPS party (a group we belong to with 7 families; we met when our kids were newborns and are very close); then, a "girlfriends" party with five of her best friends (that one will have traditional birthday games, a pinata, etc.). It's a bit much - heck, as a kid I didn't count on ONE birthday party, and my kid thinks that three is perfectly normal.
So as I was cleaning up last night after party number two, I was feeling exhausted and wondering why the hell we went so overboard.
The answer struck me with complete clarity: if I won't get to see her 16th birthday party, at least I can throw her 16 parties. If I'm going to die, then I better give her every bit of love and adoration and "special" time possible before I go.
What the hell? I thought I was just having a good time with my child, and suddenly it occurs to me that I'm living my life as if I don't have much time left. When did that start? Am I still leading my life as a cancer victim, and not a survivor?
I really thought I was further along than this. It's so frustrating to find myself really stuck in these thoughts when I thought I was more at peace. Anyone else? How do I move on? What's your advice? Or is anyone struggling like this with me?
I'm two and a half years out. Why is this taking so long? (stamps foot)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
At the end of the day
At the end of each day, my sinus headaches rage and I feel overwhelmed. This has gone on for a week - may be time for a trip to the doc. I hate visiting doctors; I feel that my time in waiting rooms is such a waste, and I've already wasted so much time.
Tonight I'm particularly tired because it was Tessa's party. I hung streamers, blew up balloons, made two cakes (chocolate bundt cake with chocolate glaze; and chocolate layer cake with raspberry vanilla frosting), cleaned, tidied, and tried to give Tessa a great day. Now her friends (and mine!) are gone, and the house is coming back to itself, and the toys are put away.
Tonight, it occurs to me that I am overdoing it because a) that's what I do but also b) because if I die, I want Tessa to remember how much her mama was willing to do for her. I want her to remember her time with me as magical.
I am not planning my death, but it does seem that I feel extra pressure to do things "just in case." This year we're throwing her three birthday parties, and that's excessive. Unless I think that I'll miss most of the parties in her life. And yet, I do feel healthy, and mostly optimistic about the future, so this doesn't make any sense. Time for another trip to the therapist.
But first, a Motrin, and then bed.
Tonight I'm particularly tired because it was Tessa's party. I hung streamers, blew up balloons, made two cakes (chocolate bundt cake with chocolate glaze; and chocolate layer cake with raspberry vanilla frosting), cleaned, tidied, and tried to give Tessa a great day. Now her friends (and mine!) are gone, and the house is coming back to itself, and the toys are put away.
Tonight, it occurs to me that I am overdoing it because a) that's what I do but also b) because if I die, I want Tessa to remember how much her mama was willing to do for her. I want her to remember her time with me as magical.
I am not planning my death, but it does seem that I feel extra pressure to do things "just in case." This year we're throwing her three birthday parties, and that's excessive. Unless I think that I'll miss most of the parties in her life. And yet, I do feel healthy, and mostly optimistic about the future, so this doesn't make any sense. Time for another trip to the therapist.
But first, a Motrin, and then bed.
Happy birthday, sweet girl
As I write this, my five year old is playing "pony set up" with Anna, happy as a clam. I'm hearing their creative imaginings as they contrive elaborate stories about good ponies and mean ponies and all that they do, and Tessa is in heaven about it all.
Five years ago, at this time, I was lying in a hospital bed at Swedish, holding Ryan's hand, talking to Susan & Libby, and looking at my huge belly and wondering how a baby would ever emerge from my body. (Even having experienced giving birth, I still find it somewhat confusing that it's even possible...but that's another post.) I was filled with excitement and anticipation, and couldn't even imagine what it would be like to hold my child in my arms, but I knew that it was what I wanted more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.
At 4:08pm on this day five years ago, when Tessa took her first breath, Ryan softly said, "It's Tessa!" and I learned that I had a daughter. I can still barely believe my good fortune of that moment: I've said it before, and I'll say it again...I would have adored a son, but I had always wanted a daughter. Tessa truly is the child I spent my lifetime dreaming about. She is all I have ever wished for, and more. In my dreams, I never understood just how much I could love a child, but Tessa has taught me.
In these first five years together, as a family, we have experienced so much. There have been more joys than I can count, along with (more than?) our share of sorrow. Throughout it all, Tessa has been the glue that held us together.
Ryan is the father I hoped he would be. He is funny, strong, and encouraging of his daughter. Tessa, needless to say, adores him. When I watch my husband and child play together, I know that I gave Tessa the best gift of all by choosing such an amazing father for her, and my heart is filled with the two of them.
Today, as I bake cakes, hang streamers, and prepare for the PEPS gang to come over, I do it with gladness. Sure, I'm trying to give Tessa a fabulous birthday, but it's also my own celebration. Five years of being a family; five years of learning how deeply we can love one another; five years of talking about the beauty of dewdrops and how much fun it is to go on the swings and petting every dog that walks by us. Five years of childhood magic, even in the middle of temper tantrums and messes and billions of loads of laundry. It is more worth it than I ever imagined.
Happy birthday, Tessa. I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for being you!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Just a cold, but still...
Two years ago at this time I was fighting radiation burns. I was bald from chemo. I was 40 pounds overweight from steroids etc. with chemo. I think it would be fair to say that I was miserable, and that I am so, so glad that I am no longer in that horrible position.
Today, I still have a cold, and it may be turning into a sinus infection. It feels ridiculous to make a big deal out of a cold, when I have endured so much worse, but really, it's not fun to have a cold. It's a molehill, not a mountain, but it's my molehill, and it's a pain.
I still judge just about everything in my life by the cancer yardstick, and this is no exception. A cold is pretty manageable compared to cancer, and it's nothing I can't live with (after all, it doesn't threaten to kill me). I suspect that for the rest of my life, everything will be compared with cancer, for better or for worse, and this fact saddens me (I'm certainly not over it). I wish I could just moan about my cold and accept it for what it is, without the comparison. Why this is difficult for me, I am not certain.
Perhaps the cold is even more frustrating because I fought cancer. Do I have to fight a freakin' cold, too? No fair! I almost laugh that I'm protesting the fairness of a cold, because I don't recall asking "why me?" about cancer (and I even wrote a post about that early on, about "why me" isn't something I think about). I guess I'm a late bloomer in this regard, because my cold is really irritating me. I've had it for a week, it's not getting better, and I'm tired when I have things I ought to be doing. (The Komen work has a huge chunk done but SO much more to do.)
And I want to be a playful mom for Tessa's birthday week. And there are dozens of cupcakes to make....
One day at a time....one day at a time.... It's just a cold. I can deal with this. I've dealt with worse.
Wah.
(But I have been having good times, too, despite my current whininess. Heather watched Tessa today so I could work on Komen, and then we visited and had dinner together. Lovely times. And yesterday's pool party was fabulous. But my sinus headache keeps coming back. Wah.)
Today, I still have a cold, and it may be turning into a sinus infection. It feels ridiculous to make a big deal out of a cold, when I have endured so much worse, but really, it's not fun to have a cold. It's a molehill, not a mountain, but it's my molehill, and it's a pain.
I still judge just about everything in my life by the cancer yardstick, and this is no exception. A cold is pretty manageable compared to cancer, and it's nothing I can't live with (after all, it doesn't threaten to kill me). I suspect that for the rest of my life, everything will be compared with cancer, for better or for worse, and this fact saddens me (I'm certainly not over it). I wish I could just moan about my cold and accept it for what it is, without the comparison. Why this is difficult for me, I am not certain.
Perhaps the cold is even more frustrating because I fought cancer. Do I have to fight a freakin' cold, too? No fair! I almost laugh that I'm protesting the fairness of a cold, because I don't recall asking "why me?" about cancer (and I even wrote a post about that early on, about "why me" isn't something I think about). I guess I'm a late bloomer in this regard, because my cold is really irritating me. I've had it for a week, it's not getting better, and I'm tired when I have things I ought to be doing. (The Komen work has a huge chunk done but SO much more to do.)
And I want to be a playful mom for Tessa's birthday week. And there are dozens of cupcakes to make....
One day at a time....one day at a time.... It's just a cold. I can deal with this. I've dealt with worse.
Wah.
(But I have been having good times, too, despite my current whininess. Heather watched Tessa today so I could work on Komen, and then we visited and had dinner together. Lovely times. And yesterday's pool party was fabulous. But my sinus headache keeps coming back. Wah.)
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Pictures!
Here are some of the latest. With all these birthday parties, there are sure to be more soon.
Five years
This week, Tessa turns five.
I find this fact somewhat bewildering. How on earth is it possible that she's so big? When she was an infant, I was so overwhelmed by the largeness of her tinyness; when she was a toddler I thought maybe she'd stay that way forever. But time marches on, and I find myself the mother of a precocious pre-kindergartener. I wouldn't change it, but I'm bewildered anyway.
This is a week of birthday: today is the family party at the pool; this Wednesday we'll have PEPS at our house to celebrate; and on Sunday she's having a few very close girlfriends over for her "girl party" (she really IS my daughter!). Yesterday she and I made chocolate cakes together, and today we frosted them with rasperry icing (home made; the raspberry tastes good but best of all it makes the frosting pink) and Tessa was in charge of putting on the sprinkles.
I will try to love every celebration, and not get caught up in my "to-do" lists for each party. I will remember that it's about the joy of her birth, about the celebration of her life, about the relationships she shares with others. I will try to remember that it's okay if the food's not perfect, if somebody gets sick and can't come, if our parties aren't as extravagent as others'. I will try to remember to laugh, and to share Tessa's pleasure at the small things: a balloon that's just the right color; putting up streamers.
Happy birthday, Tessa. I love you!
I find this fact somewhat bewildering. How on earth is it possible that she's so big? When she was an infant, I was so overwhelmed by the largeness of her tinyness; when she was a toddler I thought maybe she'd stay that way forever. But time marches on, and I find myself the mother of a precocious pre-kindergartener. I wouldn't change it, but I'm bewildered anyway.
This is a week of birthday: today is the family party at the pool; this Wednesday we'll have PEPS at our house to celebrate; and on Sunday she's having a few very close girlfriends over for her "girl party" (she really IS my daughter!). Yesterday she and I made chocolate cakes together, and today we frosted them with rasperry icing (home made; the raspberry tastes good but best of all it makes the frosting pink) and Tessa was in charge of putting on the sprinkles.
I will try to love every celebration, and not get caught up in my "to-do" lists for each party. I will remember that it's about the joy of her birth, about the celebration of her life, about the relationships she shares with others. I will try to remember that it's okay if the food's not perfect, if somebody gets sick and can't come, if our parties aren't as extravagent as others'. I will try to remember to laugh, and to share Tessa's pleasure at the small things: a balloon that's just the right color; putting up streamers.
Happy birthday, Tessa. I love you!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
What do you do when you don't feel like cooking?
Okay, readers (I know you're out there - Sitemeter tells me that I get at least 50 readers a day, and that you're all over the world)....time to come out of hiding.
What do you cook when you don't feel like cooking? What are your fallback meals for yourself and your family?
Today I ordered take-out....expensive and unhealthy, but there was no way I was going to cook. What do you do on those nights when it's too much?
What do you cook when you don't feel like cooking? What are your fallback meals for yourself and your family?
Today I ordered take-out....expensive and unhealthy, but there was no way I was going to cook. What do you do on those nights when it's too much?
Apparently, I need more than little birds
I'm still grouchy.
I don't feel well. My throat is scratchy. I'm tired. My head hurts. WAHHHH.
These are not "real" problems in that it's not life threatening, but they're problems none-the-less. I've decided to scrap the good attitude and mope for a little while instead. Tessa is curled up watching Clifford, happy. I ordered take-out for dinner. It's going to take more than some cute birds in my yard to break me out of my funk.
Hopefully, a good night's sleep and a return to health in the morning will do the trick. Until then, I'm whining.
I don't feel well. My throat is scratchy. I'm tired. My head hurts. WAHHHH.
These are not "real" problems in that it's not life threatening, but they're problems none-the-less. I've decided to scrap the good attitude and mope for a little while instead. Tessa is curled up watching Clifford, happy. I ordered take-out for dinner. It's going to take more than some cute birds in my yard to break me out of my funk.
Hopefully, a good night's sleep and a return to health in the morning will do the trick. Until then, I'm whining.
Okay, 30 seconds of Zen
After my grouchy post, I came upstairs and looked out the window.
There, on the birdfeeder that Tessa insisted that we buy last year (she didn't have to push too hard), were a handful of sweet little birds. I looked them up in our Seattle Bird Guide, and they are juncos. Then, we got to see a larger Northern Flicker (woodpecker) with brilliant red under its wings and tail. I stood at the back door for a little bit and watched this small piece of nature flitting through my back yard, and for a moment the girls were playing well and kind to one another, and I had to remind myself to stop being so grouchy.
Reminder to self: I live in perhaps the most beautiful part of the world. The Olympics were out in full color today: stunning. There are gorgeous wild birds flittering through my back yard. My house is warm, my health problem is a scratchy throat and not a lump (shudder), my dog follows me around because he loves me, my husband likes his job and called while at work to check on me to send his love....and I have an amazing child. Even when she's driving me crazy.
There, on the birdfeeder that Tessa insisted that we buy last year (she didn't have to push too hard), were a handful of sweet little birds. I looked them up in our Seattle Bird Guide, and they are juncos. Then, we got to see a larger Northern Flicker (woodpecker) with brilliant red under its wings and tail. I stood at the back door for a little bit and watched this small piece of nature flitting through my back yard, and for a moment the girls were playing well and kind to one another, and I had to remind myself to stop being so grouchy.
Reminder to self: I live in perhaps the most beautiful part of the world. The Olympics were out in full color today: stunning. There are gorgeous wild birds flittering through my back yard. My house is warm, my health problem is a scratchy throat and not a lump (shudder), my dog follows me around because he loves me, my husband likes his job and called while at work to check on me to send his love....and I have an amazing child. Even when she's driving me crazy.
Okay today is a different day
Thank goodness I had a little zen in my day yesterday, because today it appears that I won't be getting any!
Tessa has two friends over to play right now, and that dear, lovely, intelligent, compassionate child of mine is being a pain in the butt. She's being jealous, refusing to share her things, telling scary stories about a mean guy hiding in her closet (which she thinks is hysterically funny) until one of her friends cried in terror (and then Tessa initially refused to tone things down, despite her friend's terror....I had to open doors, move clothes around, stomp and make some noise, to prove that nobody was there)....etc. She also had a rather impressive temper tantrum (worse in a 5 year old than a 2 year old because 5 year olds are louder and can kick harder). Where, oh where did yesterday's sweet, inquisitive child disappear to? I know she'll come back but today I really miss her.
To top it off, my tickly throat is turning into a sore throat. I have just enough cognition to know that I may be responding more to my sore throat than my child; my patience feels short today.
And I'm stressed because I'm behind deadline for a Komen project that I REALLY believe in. And did I mention that Ryan has late work meetings? Not a big deal at all, just the timing stinks. C'est la vie.
Somehow, it will all work out. But in the meantime, I'm a stressed out mommy. Calgon, take me away.
Tessa has two friends over to play right now, and that dear, lovely, intelligent, compassionate child of mine is being a pain in the butt. She's being jealous, refusing to share her things, telling scary stories about a mean guy hiding in her closet (which she thinks is hysterically funny) until one of her friends cried in terror (and then Tessa initially refused to tone things down, despite her friend's terror....I had to open doors, move clothes around, stomp and make some noise, to prove that nobody was there)....etc. She also had a rather impressive temper tantrum (worse in a 5 year old than a 2 year old because 5 year olds are louder and can kick harder). Where, oh where did yesterday's sweet, inquisitive child disappear to? I know she'll come back but today I really miss her.
To top it off, my tickly throat is turning into a sore throat. I have just enough cognition to know that I may be responding more to my sore throat than my child; my patience feels short today.
And I'm stressed because I'm behind deadline for a Komen project that I REALLY believe in. And did I mention that Ryan has late work meetings? Not a big deal at all, just the timing stinks. C'est la vie.
Somehow, it will all work out. But in the meantime, I'm a stressed out mommy. Calgon, take me away.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Down time
The short version? Tessa's got a cold.
Today we're having some enforced down time, despite the busy day I had planned. Instead of touring Alki Elementary, working on Komen's Race for the Cure website, taking Tessa to preschool, and attending a Race meeting, Tessa and I have stayed home and had a very quiet day.
Despite my anxiety about not getting these things done (Komen is on a short deadline and I have a LOT of work to do, which I really must get done, so that in particular is stressful to me), it has been a nice day. I've done some cleaning projects around the house, hung some pictures on the "family wall" in the family room (it's all hodge-podge with different frames and picture sizes, but what the heck...the rest of that room is hodge-podge too and it's nice to have family pics up), and played with Tessa.
Tessa and I have sat and played together more in the past day than in the past week. We've played horses with a set that my mom gave her a couple of years ago; we read for well over an hour from a book about children from around the world (and looked at the dolls of the world set that she received for Christmas to see their clothing and compare), we made an 84 piece puzzle of a map of the United States (which she needed assistance with, but was a great opportunity to talk about who we know that lives in different states, what crops were grown where, etc.), we watched birds on the birdfeeder in the back yard (we both really like the bluejays), we've cleaned together (Tessa's job is to help me with dusting - she's really proud of herself for helping with chores and I will not squelch that kind of enthusiasm, knowing full well that one day she'll shriek at me if I ask her to help)....lots and lots of quiet on one time.
Man, I love my daughter.
One of my favorite songs is "Lullaby" by the Dixie Chicks, and today reminded me of lines from that song:
"I'll slip in bed while you're asleep,
And hold you close to feel your breath on me.
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do,
So tonight I'll drift inside a dream with you."
Today, the drifting happened while we were awake, and that was such a lovely pleasure. No rush, no hustle, no bustle....just spending time together, with nothing to accomplish, and nowhere to go.
The next lines of the song say,
"How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough? Is forever enough?"
No, forever is not enough, but it is certainly my promise to Tessa.
Parenting is difficult; sometimes, it feels like an impossibly large burden, and I feel my frustration rising as I just long for -deeply yearn for- 20 minutes of uninterrupted thoughts. Not today. Today, I'm reminded that I really, truly love being with my daughter. I love hearing what she thinks, and I love learning the workings of her mind. I think she's funny, and fun, and interesting, and though I do NOT want to speed up the clock (no! slow down!), I can not wait to know her when she is a woman. I can not wait to see the person that she is becoming, and to watch our relationship grow. One day, if I am lucky, I will get to see her become a mother, and I know deep in my soul that she will be wonderful. One day, if I am lucky, I will get to see Tessa change the world in ways big or small. I have no doubt about it. This is not pressure on her to do something grand like become president or cure poverty...but she is such a lovely person, filled with love and compassion, that the world is a better place because she is in it, and she will improve the world through her existance. All things are possible in her.
The ramblings of a besotted mother? Absolutely. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: every child should be loved and adored as much as I love Tessa. Of course I'm biased. I don't care - I think she's part magic, and that magic is so filled with possibility.
All of this because of cancelled plans, because of enforced slowness. I feel sorry for Tessa's runny nose and tickly throat, but selfishly, I'm glad she got a cold. I hope it goes away before it makes her feel too bad, but I am grateful for the reminders the cold brought.
When tomorrow or the next day is doubly busy because of falling behind with everything today, I truly hope that I can remember this. I hope I can still find small moments to just play, to question, to listen to Tessa. Talk of "put your shoes on" and "hurry up, we're late" and "let's go to the grocery store" and even "we're going to a playdate" is all well and fine and necessary, but just sitting and reading until we're tired of reading (and not until the clock tells us that it's time to stop) is a rare treat. I hope I remember to do that more often....without the poor kid getting a cold.
And...not to end on a sour note...but I have to say it anyway.
As I dream about the woman that Tessa will become, I curse damn cancer for threatening to prevent me from seeing that transformation. I have no promises. The clouds appear far off and in the distance, but I fear the storm that they might bring. I'm praying for sunshine and sprinkles, but no hurricanes. I want to be here for myself and my family. I want to be here to stand at Ryan's side and watch our Tessa grow into herself. I want that more than anything I've ever wanted before.
Today we're having some enforced down time, despite the busy day I had planned. Instead of touring Alki Elementary, working on Komen's Race for the Cure website, taking Tessa to preschool, and attending a Race meeting, Tessa and I have stayed home and had a very quiet day.
Despite my anxiety about not getting these things done (Komen is on a short deadline and I have a LOT of work to do, which I really must get done, so that in particular is stressful to me), it has been a nice day. I've done some cleaning projects around the house, hung some pictures on the "family wall" in the family room (it's all hodge-podge with different frames and picture sizes, but what the heck...the rest of that room is hodge-podge too and it's nice to have family pics up), and played with Tessa.
Tessa and I have sat and played together more in the past day than in the past week. We've played horses with a set that my mom gave her a couple of years ago; we read for well over an hour from a book about children from around the world (and looked at the dolls of the world set that she received for Christmas to see their clothing and compare), we made an 84 piece puzzle of a map of the United States (which she needed assistance with, but was a great opportunity to talk about who we know that lives in different states, what crops were grown where, etc.), we watched birds on the birdfeeder in the back yard (we both really like the bluejays), we've cleaned together (Tessa's job is to help me with dusting - she's really proud of herself for helping with chores and I will not squelch that kind of enthusiasm, knowing full well that one day she'll shriek at me if I ask her to help)....lots and lots of quiet on one time.
Man, I love my daughter.
One of my favorite songs is "Lullaby" by the Dixie Chicks, and today reminded me of lines from that song:
"I'll slip in bed while you're asleep,
And hold you close to feel your breath on me.
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do,
So tonight I'll drift inside a dream with you."
Today, the drifting happened while we were awake, and that was such a lovely pleasure. No rush, no hustle, no bustle....just spending time together, with nothing to accomplish, and nowhere to go.
The next lines of the song say,
"How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough? Is forever enough?"
No, forever is not enough, but it is certainly my promise to Tessa.
Parenting is difficult; sometimes, it feels like an impossibly large burden, and I feel my frustration rising as I just long for -deeply yearn for- 20 minutes of uninterrupted thoughts. Not today. Today, I'm reminded that I really, truly love being with my daughter. I love hearing what she thinks, and I love learning the workings of her mind. I think she's funny, and fun, and interesting, and though I do NOT want to speed up the clock (no! slow down!), I can not wait to know her when she is a woman. I can not wait to see the person that she is becoming, and to watch our relationship grow. One day, if I am lucky, I will get to see her become a mother, and I know deep in my soul that she will be wonderful. One day, if I am lucky, I will get to see Tessa change the world in ways big or small. I have no doubt about it. This is not pressure on her to do something grand like become president or cure poverty...but she is such a lovely person, filled with love and compassion, that the world is a better place because she is in it, and she will improve the world through her existance. All things are possible in her.
The ramblings of a besotted mother? Absolutely. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: every child should be loved and adored as much as I love Tessa. Of course I'm biased. I don't care - I think she's part magic, and that magic is so filled with possibility.
All of this because of cancelled plans, because of enforced slowness. I feel sorry for Tessa's runny nose and tickly throat, but selfishly, I'm glad she got a cold. I hope it goes away before it makes her feel too bad, but I am grateful for the reminders the cold brought.
When tomorrow or the next day is doubly busy because of falling behind with everything today, I truly hope that I can remember this. I hope I can still find small moments to just play, to question, to listen to Tessa. Talk of "put your shoes on" and "hurry up, we're late" and "let's go to the grocery store" and even "we're going to a playdate" is all well and fine and necessary, but just sitting and reading until we're tired of reading (and not until the clock tells us that it's time to stop) is a rare treat. I hope I remember to do that more often....without the poor kid getting a cold.
And...not to end on a sour note...but I have to say it anyway.
As I dream about the woman that Tessa will become, I curse damn cancer for threatening to prevent me from seeing that transformation. I have no promises. The clouds appear far off and in the distance, but I fear the storm that they might bring. I'm praying for sunshine and sprinkles, but no hurricanes. I want to be here for myself and my family. I want to be here to stand at Ryan's side and watch our Tessa grow into herself. I want that more than anything I've ever wanted before.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
A Chance to See the Dalai Lama
I have recently learned that the Dalai Lama is coming to Seattle, and I'm thrilled at the prospect of seeing him speak.
Check it out:
http://www.seedsofcompassion.net/event/
I personally believe that the Dalai Lama is one of the most compassionate, intelligent people on the planet, and every time I hear him speak (never in person, unfortunately) or read his writing I walk away feeling more committed to being a positive person in the world. I admire his teachings greatly, and I would be more excited than I can express if I got to see him.
This particular program is interesting to me because it is all about teaching children compassion, and raising our children compassionately. As I struggle to be a compassionate person, I know that I struggle to model to Tessa, and I hope that I can learn more.
Tickets aren't on sale or available yet, but I hope to be able to get my hands on some.
Check it out:
http://www.seedsofcompassion.net/event/
I personally believe that the Dalai Lama is one of the most compassionate, intelligent people on the planet, and every time I hear him speak (never in person, unfortunately) or read his writing I walk away feeling more committed to being a positive person in the world. I admire his teachings greatly, and I would be more excited than I can express if I got to see him.
This particular program is interesting to me because it is all about teaching children compassion, and raising our children compassionately. As I struggle to be a compassionate person, I know that I struggle to model to Tessa, and I hope that I can learn more.
Tickets aren't on sale or available yet, but I hope to be able to get my hands on some.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Churches that advertise
The UU organization is advertising in Time Magazine. I'm not sure how I feel about this; on the one hand, evangelism generally makes me feel uncomfortable; on the other, I'm grateful to have stumbled onto the UU faith but it was almost entirely by accident and I wish I'd heard of it sooner and these ads might help facilitate that for others.
Anyway, here's a link to the ad. It is next to an interesting article about Einstein's faith.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1607298,00.html
Anyway, here's a link to the ad. It is next to an interesting article about Einstein's faith.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1607298,00.html
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
