how are you feeling?

This is a question I ask Mitchell probably 6 to 10 times a day. I'm sure he feels like hitting me in the head with a pot every time I do, but I can't help myself. Lately he just pretends like he hasn't heard me and goes on about his slow-going business, forcing me to ask again and again and then demanding, "Are you listening?" Clearly not.

ciclo número cinco

Mitchell endured his fifth chemo treatment yesterday. He was happy because the infusion took much less time than the last four. Unfortunately the culmination of the chemo treatments causes him to feel more poorly more quickly than before. At least he's at the half way point.

fart heard round the world

This lady totally farted during the work out this morning. It was a ripper, too. Because I am immature, I found it hilarious and was unable to let it pass unnoticed. I love it when stuff like that happens...to others!

thank you, easter bunny! bock! bock!

Mitchell and Hayden test out Easter toys.

This is fun, guys!

What's going on?

Hunting, hunting, hunting...

Taylor & Dylan hunt for eggs! Mitchell & Hayden checking things out.

Hayden seems happy with her Easter .

maybe it's not

One of the bad things about living with someone who's living with cancer (aside from the obvious difficulty that he has fucking cancer) is that it constantly hovers between you, unspoken but lurking. It's something you whisper about when people ask, hoping he won't hear. It would be so easy to crawl into some secret hole and pretend, but we don't. We push away those thoughts that come to us in the dark moments. We get up and we do what needs doing.

We are good. He feels fine. Everything is fine.

Even though, maybe it's not. Maybe he's not feeling that well, even though he tells people different. Maybe I'm tired of picking up the slack, even though I say it's okay. And I feel bad for the resentment and frustration that sometimes builds. And I wonder how many moments are left for us. And I resolve to be more aware, more mindful. And then I think maybe it isn't a big deal. And everything really is fine. And I'm making more of it than I should. Maybe I should believe him when he says he is okay. It would be easy. He says he's fine, so he is. But then I think of his silence. The times when I'll look over and find him asleep in the middle of the day, bundled in a comforter on his chair. The way he sometimes makes small noises in his sleep. And I'll look at my girls, and I can feel their worry. And I try to make things more normal. More like they were. But it's not.

my blue eyed baby girl

booty camp?

I was up this morning at 5:45, making lunches and setting out clothes for the girls so that I could attend Booty Busters Boot Camp (trust me, I will NOT be saying that title aloud).

The trainer, Brian, led us through push ups, burpees, squat things and endless jogging for an hour. After about 15 minutes, I was panting and dizzy and felt WAY older than 36.

Triumphs for today's workout: I finished the whole thing AND didn't utter one curse word.

cycle 4

Mitchell had his fourth chemo cycle on Friday. It went much the same as the previous 3. Same crazy long wait between blood draw and infusion start. His appointment was for 9:30; they didn't even begin his pre-chemo "cocktail" until after 10:30. Same marathon visit. I don't think he finished until sometime in the neighborhood of 3 o'clock. In terms of how he's feeling, it's seems to be pretty much the same. He's tired and a little nauseated. The hypersensitivity to cold hasn't set in yet, but I'm sure that will come up any day now. Overall he's doing well.

the life

Sometimes I want to lay around in a adult-sized boppy pillow, while others carry me around feeding me and clothing me and changing me at will. Discerning the subtle differences between my hungry and my tired cries.

new game

Hayden's newest game is manipulation. She has successfully connected the act of spitting out her bink and someone retrieving discarded bink...endlessly. This is a game of which she does not tire, and everyone in the house has become a victim.

not not working

We had a meeting with Mitchell's oncologist this morning to review yesterday's ct scan. Basically he said that although it's difficult to say anything conclusively, he can say the treatment's not not working. Huh? I was really looking forward to something a little more definitive. Granted, it's definitely not bad news. There are no new lesions or tumors and what was there doesn't seem to be any larger, soo.... That's good, right?

quality time

Hayden getting to know Grandma H.

future

Tomorrow, Mitchell is scheduled to have another CT scan which will tell us whether or not the chemo has been working.

third time's the charm

Mitchell had his third cycle of chemo on Friday. We thought for a minute there was going to be a repeat of last Friday's occurrences, but the right people got their butts together and all went on as planned. Of course the infusion started about and hour and 20 minutes later than scheduled so we were there until almost 6:30 on a Friday night. Needless to say, Mitch was not pleased. Hayden and I tagged along and, while the "companion chairs" they provide leave much to be desired, HayLiz and Daddy got some much needed shared nap time in. This time around, Mitchell seems to be having more difficulty than before. A lot more nausea and general malaise. As usual, anything cold is off limits.

just so ya know

Last week was supposed to mark the beginning of Mitchell's third treatment cycle. Alas, it didn't turn out that way. For some reason the kooky pharmacist put the kibosh on things because of Mitchell's blood work. Strange bc Dr. Brown reviewed those very same results with us the day before and beamed, "Mitch, everything looks great!" (Please note this is the only person my husband allows to use that abbreviated moniker.) So it was with much frustration that Mitch departed the ACC. As of now, he has been rescheduled for this Friday around noonish. On the bright side, he was able to have 7 extra treatment-free days.

the sound of silence

It's definitely strange to sit in a room with someone for close to 8 hours at a time and exchange fewer than 12 words. We've discussed the wind, the remote and holding the baby. Woo hoo!

stupid things people say: #1

• I guess your 2008 was worse than ours. Are we in competition for who has shittier life experiences?
• She's getting fat! I didn't realize a 5 week old weighing almost 8 lbs could be considered overweight.
• Oh...You look nice today! Unspoken sub-text: You usually look like hell, so I'm shocked that you've cleaned your pitiful ass up.

just smile and nod

Anytime Hayden and I make a public appearance, people ask me if this is my first. It doesn't matter if I have all 3 girls or just baby and me. Sometimes I answer; most of the time I just smile and nod.

People also love to ask if Hayden is a "good baby". This question confounds me. When was the last time a new mother had to deal with a cursing, thieving newborn? Sure Taylor never slept and most days I felt as though I was a prisoner of war, but she never assaulted me or stole money from my wallet. So all in all, I think she could be considered a pretty good baby.

I also think it's strange when complete strangers will approach me and not only gush over my unknown-to-them infant but also touch/stroke/poke my newborn with what I always assume are filthy, potentially germ-laden stranger hands while getting dangerously close to her face. Can you imagine how startling this has to be for her? Some complete stranger's doughy face 4 cm from her own? Breathing strange breath into her face, making weird, monster-like sounds and gestures? Terrifying.

I do my best not to place both hands in the middle of the person's chest and push them away with all my might. I keep my caustic comments to myself and most days I just smile and nod. Realizing that these are just one of the many joys of having an infant.

I guess I should just be thankful that people haven't yet begun to caution me about the difficulties of having 3 kids.

tender

You know how you've got one or two good friends that practically a million years can pass by without having seen one another, and when you do get back together it feels like no time has passed? There's no awkward silences. No boob-crushing squeezes. Just knowing glances and laughs exchanged... That is one of my favorite kind of friendships. Good to see you, sistah!