And So It's Been Awhile (AGAIN! It's like deja vu or something!)

Hi all!  I can't believe it's been almost a YEAR since I have posted something on here.  A friend of mine sent me a most lovely email that said she had read the post where my mom and I went to Williamsburg just after her cancer diagnosis.  (And was that ever a fun trip - read about it here.)  I appreciated her comments and it made me go back and read that post again.  And I still find it funny.  It made me laugh and smile.  (Thank you MYRA!)

So it also got me to thinking that I really should write something on here.  Especially since all of you probably think my mom has passed, since her prognosis back in Jan/Feb of 2012 was 5-9 months.  But guess what?

SHE'S STILL HEEEEEEEERRRRRE!

Lest you think this is an April Fool's joke, I can assure you that it is not.

Nope.

Weezie is still alive and kicking.  She did stop her treatments right before Thanksgiving in 2012.  She did the chemo for as long as she could, but it was totally kicking her butt and she finally decided she'd had enough.  And seeing her now compared to how she was when she was on them, it is a no brainer.  She totally made the right decision.  She's back to galavanting around town with her friends.  She even wanted to go in to her oncologist's office today and sit in an exam room until he came in and then she was going to yell out, "April Fools!  I'm still here!!!!"  (And of course, I'd have laughed my ass off.  And as nice as he is, he wouldn't have gotten it.  But my mom and I would have and we'd have laughed all the way to wherever we were going next and then some.)  Boring story as to why she didn't do it and plus I'm just feeling lazy and don't want to type it all out.  But it would have been awesome to do that had it worked out.  So anyway, the point is, my mom is feeling good these days.  And that is quite a wonderful thing to see.  

We are doing well.  Joshua is enjoying school again this year.  I can't believe that my baby is having yet another birthday shortly.  Time does fly.

And Quincy, the slobber dog, is still smelly and drooly and quite disgusting.  He's a great dog in spite of those major flaws.

My husband is awesome as always.

And so I guess I am writing just to say we are all here.  And that I am enjoying having my mom back for whatever time she has left.  And that it has been really fabulous having her looking and feeling mostly good.  I know it won't last forever.  But by the same token, I never would have thought I'd be sitting here FOURTEEN months after her diagnosis talking about spending time with my mom over Easter this year.  And to be able to write that makes me a very happy girl indeed.

At the moment, life is good.  I'll take it.

Be thankful and savor all the good moments.  I am trying my best to do that too these days.  :)

Happy Day, folks!

A Word of Advice - Keep Your Eyes Open All the Time. Otherwise Change is Gonna Knock you SILLY.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. . .


I know it's been a while.


Life is happening.  And lots of it is happening a lot faster than I had anticipated.  It's also happening, in a lot of ways, that I don't like or want.  But what am I to do about that?


My mom is hanging in there.  But it's hard to watch her be sick and not feel like doing anything.  That's not who she really is.  


Anyway, I digress away from my point, but not totally.  So here we go:


I was upstairs in my son's room putting him to bed the other night.  Somehow or another, I asked him if he remembered his crib being in his room when we first moved in.  And he couldn't remember it.  


I, of course, remembered it like it was yesterday.  It was on the opposite wall from where his bed is.  We moved his bed in his room immediately even though he was still sleeping in his crib, because we knew it probably wouldn't be that much longer until he moved out of it.  And I'm sad to say, I don't remember exactly how old he was when he moved to the bed.  I do remember it was, of course, really fast.  One day he wanted to nap in the big boy bed, and I believe I remember that he was sleeping in the big boy bed for everything by the very next day.  One day, my baby was a baby, and the next thing I knew, we were disassembling the crib.


Same with his clothes.  I bought him some new underpants the other day.  And they look so BIG.  And then I remembered some of his first pairs of underpants.  I even went upstairs and pulled a pair out.  And they were sooooooo tiny!  Part of me couldn't believe that my baby was ever that small, and another part of me couldn't believe he was so big now!


Life is like that.  It comes at you fast, and if you aren't looking, it just keeps right on going.  And that's sad when we are in "that" place, because then we miss stuff.


With my mom being ill, it has made me wonder what I missed about her.  What questions will I not get to ask her?  What will I never know about?  That is sad.


Her illness seems to be progressing quickly.  At least I think so.  I could be wrong, and I hope I am.  We moved into this house just four short years ago.  When we moved in, I never EVER would have thought my mom's health would be where it is today.  I wished I would have known.  I'd have paid more attention.


Sorry - I know this seems like a downer kind of a post.  But it is just a little of where I am today.  So do me a favor.  Slow down.  Pay attention.  Look around.  Ask questions about your loved ones.  Stare at your kids and see if you can actually see them growing.  I know we can't see everything, but we can at least pay more attention while we are here.


Oh and one more thing:  Hug and kiss all your peeps today.  The ones that matter.  I'm going to do that every chance I get.


Happy Day, folks.

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! WE ARE BEING ATTACKED BY GIANT ANTS!!!!

OK, so I had a totally different idea for this post.  And I'm bummed because I needed to take a picture of something, and now I can't find it to take a picture of it.  And this first picture was just going to be, like, a little bitty blurb, but now I have to turn it into a whole post.  So wish me luck, right?


This morning was crazy because we had someone coming to our house for an appointment, and Joshua and Jamey both slept late, so neither of them were dressed when the dude showed up.  And that's really not all that important, but of course, because I am now having to turn a blurb into a whole post I'm filling up space with insignificant verbiage.  Deal with it.


And so I ran to the dryer because, of course, I couldn't find any pants for Joshua to wear.  So see?  It's at least a little significant.  Anyway, I run to the dryer, open it up and scream my head off.  Because THIS is what I see when I open the dryer door:

Holy CRAP, right?!?!?!?!


And I'm not saying, "Holy crap look at that dirty rag there".  It is clean.  I scrubbed my floors with tea.  But that's another story. . .and so of course I'm not saying holy crap to the rag,  It was the GIANT ANT!!!!  


And then before I could bolt out of the house yelling hysterically and it all coming out almost incoherently to anyone listening (which, let's be honest here, that would probably be, um, NO ONE...) about how we are moving right this very moment because our house is being taken over by giant ants, I remembered that the giant ant is, of course, plastic.  And that I had Mr. Ant in my back pocket last week when I did music at the preschool and the "friend" I brought to do music with me was an anteater named "Artie the Anteater" and I wanted to give "Artie" a snack, and what better to give him then a giant plastic ant?


And so all that to really just say a giant WHEW.  IT'S FAKE.  We can live in our house still.


This brings me to the whole point of this ridiculous post.  I scare myself all the time.  I don't know why.  But I do.  I will be in the house, and I know that other people live here too (including all the other voices in my head, but again, that's a post for another time), and one of them comes walking in, and I jump and give a little scream.  You know.  Because I'm sure my little boy is a thief about to steal our valuables.  Oh wait.  We have no valuables.  So see?  There really is no reason to be scared.  But I usually am.


One other example is when I was in the regular working world and I worked from one of those totally depressing lovely cubicles (why DO they only come in "ugly beige" or, even better the "oh my goodness I want to kill myself blue" color???).  Keeping in mind that these cubicles are TOTALLY OUT IN THE OPEN, and you can hear anyone coming, I would constantly hear someone coming around the corner, and guess what happened?  Uh huh.  Scare myself to death.  It's a wonder I haven't had a heart attack.  One guy would even warn me. He'd start talking and say, "Hey Carolyn, it's just me Tom,"  and then like Pavlov's dogs, he'd come into view at the entrance of my cubicle, and I'd get startled and gasp and complain that he'd scared me.  


I think there must be a solution to this.  I know what some people would say.  In a word?  Xanax.  


Husband?  He'd probably say, "Commit her".


Joshua?  He'd say, "Mommy, you're weird."


Quincy, our disgusting slobbery vile mongrel?  He'd say, "Who's Quincy?"


Does anybody else do this, or is it just me?  Um.  Don't answer that.


Happy Day, folks!

If You Don't Have an Emotional Reaction to This Post, There's Something Wrong With You.

For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, you know that a while back, I posted about how I wanted a sewing machine.  I was totally looking for someone to say, "Oh hey, I've got an extra, brand new, in the box, sewing machine just laying around, and it is super duper fantastic and so are you, so here you go I'm just going to give it to you."  But no one said that.  And that was OK by me, although at the time, I'd sort of wished since no one said that, it was because they were just going to go out and buy me one.  (Boy, you think I expect a lot of my friends, huh?  Not really.  That's just me living in my little fantasy world where me and all my friends are filthy freaking rich and famous and all that good stuff.  So see?  I am spreading around the wealth and good cheer in my brain to everyone.  Are you confused now?  Don't worry.  Me too.)


Anyway, the point is that I never got a sewing machine.  But guess what?


I'm now getting a sewing machine.


But I don't want it.


It is my mom's.


She called me on the phone the other day and we were chatting about some things, and then just out of the blue, she said, "Oh by the way, the next time you are over here, please take my sewing machine home."  And Joshua was home so I stifled my sob, and practically whispered, "Are you sure?"  And she said, "Yes.  I'll never use it again."  And a small soft sob came out and I bit my hand to make me stop crying.  Because I didn't want Joshua to hear me.  And that worked because I bit hard enough that it hurt like hell.  Oopsie.  I could totally be a Twilight vampire.  Maybe I'll get some red contacts one day. Oh no wait, I need Amber ones.  I don't want to be a Volturi.  They are gross. . .


Anyway, I digress.


So I will have totally a bittersweet attitude when I go over there to get it.  Sigh.


The other part of my post today is also bittersweet.  And it also has to do with sewing.


Years ago, as a present to my mom, I "bought" her a quilting class.  She'd always wanted to try it, and so I gave her the classes for some kind of occasion.  And she made her first quilt, and I said to her, "I want one too!!!"  And then I proceeded to watch her make quilt piece after quilt piece after quilt piece.  And none of them was a quilt for me.  That's a total bummer, right?  I mean, I bought her the classes! 


Fast forward a couple of years.  I met my lovely husband.  We were getting married.  And so I said to mom, "BOY, you know a quilt would be a great wedding present."  So we finally went, and I picked out the fabrics that I liked and my mom went to work.  I don't remember the name of the quilt block I picked out, but it was very pretty and it sort of looked like pinwheels.  So I waited.  When she finally got it all pieced together, she showed it to me.  And it was going to be gorgeous!  And so I then waited for her to quilt it.


And I waited.


And I waited.


Jamey and I have been married for just over 15 years now.


I got a phone call the other day.  It was my mom.  She said, "Hey.  If I told you that if you came over here right now, for something that would totally be worth your while, would you come?"  And I said, "Yes."  And she said, "Well come over."  It took me a few minutes, because Joshua was at children's choir and I had to wait for Jamey to get home to make sure someone was home when Joshua got home.


So I drive over not knowing what it could possibly be.  As I pull in the driveway, someone else is at the house, so the only thing I can think of is that my BFF, Yvette, has come into town to see me!  And then I think that's silly.  My dad greets me at the door and tells me to go back to the guest bedroom.  I walk in, and the first thing I see is my mom and her friend, Carol, standing there with cameras pointed at my face.  And I'm all excited because I mistake them for paparazzi at first, and I think that I'm finally really famous, and that my blog has gone all viral and Barbara Walters must be standing in the wings waiting to do an interview with me.


OK.  No I didn't think that.  I totally knew it was my mom and Carol.  But wouldn't that bit about paparazzi be much more fun?  I think so too.


Anyway, there they are standing there and snapping pictures.  And then I glance down at the bed, and drop my purse and gasp.  I'm in shock.


It's my quilt.


It is so pretty.  Carol's sister, Mary Ann, heard about my mom's quilt and got it from her.  She machine quilted it.  It's got a gorgeous pattern of leaves all over it.  Like they are floating in the wind.  It's so pretty.  She did it for nothing.  And I look at it and I start to cry.  


I love it.  I will always treasure it.  


I have to say a HUGE thank you to Carol and especially to Mary Ann for finishing it for my mom and me.  THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.


Just so you can see it - here is a picture of it.  You must ignore all the things in this room except for the quilt.  The paint color was here when we bought the house, and the room is not coordinated at all.  But I wanted you to see the quilt and how gorgeous it is.  I'm so proud of it.  Here it is:

See?  Most Beautiful Quilt in the Universe.

I love my mom.  

Happy Day, folks!

If My Kid Ever Figures This Arrangement Out, I'm SCREWED.

I love my son so very much.


And I think I may have mentioned on here before that there really isn't a whole lot about him that I would change.  His desire to try new foods could be a little bit better.  If you are one of those moms who has a kid or kids who are super adventurous in their dietary habits, please do not comment.  Because you might have a raving  wenchbag at your doorstep after I read your comment I will be very unhappy with you.


I also have always wished he was a bit of a better sleeper than he is.  But since he started school, I must admit that his earlier rising is actually advantageous to us.  He is up in plenty of time to eat his breakfast, get dressed, brush teeth, etc etc without us having to rush around like lunatics to get him out the door on time.  But the weekends still come and then it can be a bit of a bummer.  Until recently. . .


Because guess what?  (Can you tell I'm gearing up here?  Can you tell I'm totally excited?  Can you tell I'm ready to sing Broadway tunes from my rooftop because I'm so ecstatic?  Can you tell I'm really just a little bit crazy in the head now?  Yes.  Me too.  Don't worry.  I'm not all that dangerous.  Unless you comment on your child's wonderful eating habits.  Then I might kill you.)  So anyway, guess WHAT?!?!?!?


Joshua has discovered the joys of being downstairs all by himself on the weekend mornings.


LET THE CELEBRATIONS BEGIN!!!!!


He now asks, no BEGS me every Friday night, "Mommy, can you and Daddy sleep in both days so I can be downstairs by myself?"  And I practically have to pinch myself while I look at him seriously.  I don't want him to see how absolutely giddy I am that he is requesting this.  So I continue to look at him seriously for a moment as though I am considering NOT letting him do this.  Because, Oh dear god, please don't ever let him catch on, I don't want to tip him off.  And then, after a few deep breathing exercises, I say as calmly as possible, "Well.  I suppose that would be OK."  I try to look a bit disappointed.  But not TOO disappointed, because then he will change his mind.  And then I kiss him goodnight, walk out of his room telling him I love him, shut his door. . .


AND THEN DO THE MAJOR WHITE GIRL HAPPY DANCE!!!!!!


And so is this post utterly ridiculous?  Yes.  Do I care?  Not really.  Because I slept in this morning.  And I'm sleeping in tomorrow too.  Bliss.


Happy Day, folks!

Mom's Bucket List Item #27 - Get Arrested...CHECK!

So yep.  Mom's got the big C word.  And as I keep saying, it totally sucks, right?
But if you also remember, I told you we were going to, as my mom says, "pull our big girl panties" on and start raising some hell with whatever time she has left, be it 5 minutes or 27.276 years.  And the hell raising began yesterday when we went away for the night to Williamsburg. 

We had the BEST time.  I have never laughed so hard in all my life.

We got to the hotel, and my lovely husband, Jamey, surprised me by having flowers in our room when we arrived.  Not just one bouquet.  TWO.  One for my mom, and one for me!  Very thoughtful sweetie, and thank you again so much! 

We stayed in the hotel room, and we just enjoyed chatting with each other and enjoying some time together without Joshua.  It doesn't happen very often anymore.  And right away we found something to be amused over.

And at this point, I must pause to warn you all.  No one gets the humor between my mom and me.  I mean, you all might find these mildly amusing.  Hopefully at least amusing enough to get a chuckle out of you and interesting enough to finish reading this post.  However, my mother and I found all the following incidents to be downright hysterical. 

OK. That said, we were in our hotel for less than ten minutes when my mother had to go to the bathroom.  And for whatever reason, the toilets in this hotel are like the ones on cruise ships.  If you've ever been on a cruise ship, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  If you don't, please go book a cruise so you can experience it first hand.  But for those of you who can't wait, I will say that you need to stand back from the toilet lest it suck you down into it  - because the force of the flush is so strong you swear that is exactly what will happen if you don't jump back immediately.  And my mom, being Weezie, found this highly amusing.  And so she yelled out at me, "Help, Carolyn!!!"  And I laughed.  And then we proceeded to try to outdo each other with every flush after that.  My favorite was this morning when she called out, "Hey, Carolyn?"  And she flushed just as I said, "Yeah?"  And then I heard:

Nothing.

And I laughed so hard. 

So after we hang out and chat and just enjoy each other's company, we go to dinner.  And yes, there was a little bit of wine that was had.  However, that is not a requirement for us to be goofy together.  We had dinner at a pretty swanky restaurant.  The waiters were all in tuxedos and everything.  Mom and I had more good conversation.  And we joked around a lot and acted silly and all that stuff.  And things were fine until the dessert menu came around.  And one of the items offered was pecan pie.  And the description said that there was a secret ingredient in the pie, and it kind of dared you to try to figure out what it was.  And the waiter came over, and of course my mom asked him what the secret ingredient was because she's really not very patient that way.  And the waiter said he didn't know and then we told him we needed a few more minutes.

So he walks away, and mom and I are sitting there discussing what to get and all of a sudden I look at her seriously and say, "I bet I know what the secret ingredient is."  And she's all, "What is it?"  And so I look at her and smile and say, "I bet it's pot."  And she almost falls out of her chair, and I am laughing and snorting.  So the waiter comes back over, and I know he's waiting for me to order, but I just HAVE to say it.  So I tell him that I think the secret ingredient is pot.  And the waiter has to walk away from the table three times before he can regain his composure enough to speak.  So of course, mom orders a piece of pecan pie to go. (Mom, we totally should have ordered, like, 10 whole pies.  And asked for two forks and some napkins, to go...)  I get a dessert, but I want something with ice cream (cos DUH), and so of course we have to wait. 

The waiter goes back to the kitchen and as he leaves, mom and I are still cracking up over the whole pot comment.  I tell her that I bet he is back in the back telling all the kitchen staff about it.  And sure enough a minute or two later, I start seeing heads pop out from the kitchen.  And mom and I laugh even harder.  And then the manager comes into our area, and you know the waiter told her, and I bet she misunderstood and thought we actually had pot, and, of course, since mom and I are laughing so hard, and I'm wolfing down what must have been the biggest dessert they had, I can see why she maybe thought that.

But the fun didn't stop there.  While we were waiting for the check, mom decides to go to the restroom.  And she comes back and she looks at me, and without missing a beat, she says, "Well.  The man in the restroom was VERY rude."  And so by the time the waiter gets there, I'm crying into my napkin, and my mom tells HIM that, and I think he really just didn't even know what to do with us at that point.  However, mom and I found the whole thing VERY amusing.  We both have tears pouring down our faces and my napkin is all wet from the tears I've already wiped off.  It was awesome.  I'm pretty sure we won't be welcomed back there.  Except by Eric the waiter, because even though he wasn't sure how to handle us, he liked us. I think.

Then we stop by a drug store, because I need some NyQuil because I still have a snotty head.  We get the NyQuil and get to the hotel room and I joke about needing to take it after I've gotten in the bed so I can fall right asleep since it usually hits me like a ton of bricks.  My mom's also decided she needs some, and so she's trying to open the bottle.  I don't remember all the jokes we made about the NyQuil, but of course because it was me and my mom, we found everything about the NyQuil highly funny.

But the best part was when she says, "Oh no.  We can't take this now."  And I ask, "Why not?"  And she looks at me and says, "It says you shouldn't take it if the seal is broken."  And I look down and she's dropped the plastic seal on the floor.  And I pick it up and put it up to her real close and say to her like she's four years old, "DID YOU DO THIS?"  And she immediately starts laughing, and I say again, "DID YOU DO THIS????"  And we collapse into fits of giggles.

I could go on.  But at this point, I know you are all thinking - these two women have lost their minds.  And possibly thinking - oh my goodness.  I am so glad I was not in Williamsburg while they were there.  Or maybe you've stopped reading by now because you just don't get it.  And THAT'S THE POINT.

Of course all of this is not translating to how funny it really was.   And of course all of you are probably also thinking, "Oh my, Carolyn's mom's illness has really gotten to her.  I think she's having some mental problems now."  It just makes me laugh even harder, because I think -  no, I know - that's what my dad and Jamey think every time they see mom and me together!  And what makes it even funnier than THAT, is that my mom will read this, and she will totally get it, and she will also be laughing.  And NONE OF YOU WILL GET IT.  AWESOME.

Happy Day, folks!

PS - She didn't really get arrested. We just posted on Facebook that it was on her bucket list. Then we made jokes about the view from jail and stuff. But people totally believed it. And that made us laugh even more. Because in truth? If you hang out with my Weezie, you never know. It could totally happen!

Time to Pull Up My "Big Girl" Panties!

OK.  So you now know that my mom has pancreatic cancer.  Total suckage, right?

Yes.  Yes it is.  But you know what I realized a bit after I wrote that?  I realized that my mom is a great lady.  A truly great example of what it means to be a good person, friend, mom, wife (and the list goes on and on. . .)  And she's right here. 

My mom told her oncologist that she was going to "pull up her big girl panties", and do what she needs to do to live well with whatever time she has left.  I think she will do that with as much dignity, fun and class she can possibly muster up.  And good for her.  So I'm going to as well.  I might not have as much dignity or class, but I'll surely have some fun.  Because sick or not, my mom is a hoot and a half to be around.

So we joke quite a bit about her prognosis.  It makes it feel not quite so devastating.  We joke about her upcoming treatments, her hair falling out (I told her she should get a really long haired wig, because how much fun would it be to swing that around at 70 something?  Maybe even blond!), her lack of appetite. . .all of it.  Because what else can you really do?

That all said, I may still have sad posts on here from time to time.  I will update about my mom and her condition whenever I feel like it.  It may be not so much, or it may be every day.  But I hope when I look back, most of my posts are funny and joyous in sentiment.  Because that's how I want her time to be.

So mom?  It's time to RAISE SOME HELL!!!!  WOOT WOOT!!!!!

HAPPY DAY, FOLKS!!!!  :)