Box of sunshine

Wednesday night I had my first true emotional break down.

You're not going to believe why. 

I have a plan of care. I have shrinking tumors. I have health in my future. 

And then my son got the flu.

Tuesday I got a phone call from school that August had a headache. I got my into my car, went to pick him up. He was laying on the couch at school, fast asleep, his face smashed up against the cinder block wall. Cinder blocked imprinted face and all, I pulled him to me, picked him up, and carried him out to the car.

Got him in the car, and he proceeded to projectile vomit all over himself and the car.

Got home, ran and grabbed Bobby, from work, he trooped up, we literally shoveled August and the puke out of the car.

With me in front and Bobby carrying August in, there is a big, wrapped, yellow box deliver from the post man full of stickers on the porch.

A box of sunshine. And it was literally and figuratively a cloudy day.

We have some miscellaneous things happening too, complicating the process of trying to purchase a home.
Yes, I said purchase a home.

We are nuts.

And then here's when it gets really nuts.

August had a terrible fever and headache all Tuesday and Wednesday, so we were very worried and took him to the doctor. He tested positive for the flu.. he'll be out for a week with it.
I then had the irrational thought that I wouldn't be able to have chemo yesterday. I WAS GOING TO GET SICK. It was going to mess up MY PLAN of treatment. I was going to have to put ANOTHER WEEK of waiting to be done with this. I COULDN'T DO THAT. I couldn't wait ONE MORE WEEK to get on the road to wellness. I couldn't handle it. I felt my body giving away from me, the air was leaving my chest...and all I could do was fall to whatever was sitting behind me and heave cry. Truly ugly cry. I couldn't catch myself.. I couldn't stop feeling this immense, overwhelming pity, and it took me a while to get it all out, and gather myself. With Bobby sitting by my side, wondering what was happening to his wife.

This brings me in line with today. Life brings you events to learn. To make you learn, or keep being an asshole.

My stop being an asshole moment was up.

A husband came into the infusion center while I, was privileged (and I mean that) enough to receive my treatment. He was dressed nice, hair done, and had a voice that made you want to listen to him, this is in defense of the face that I was being nosy. He also had a huge bag of Gigi's cupcakes. I'm going to listen.

I noticed he was giving hugs to every nurse in the Cancer center. They were very kind, and everyone wanted to make sure to give him his hug. He was expressing appreciation for everything they did for his wife. How fast it went. What a special person she was. How everyone was able to just love her so easily. There were no tears from everyone, but I could feel both the grief and gratitude, so strongly that I turned my head and started crying even though I had no place, or no right to be apart of that moment.
And in that instant of their professionalism with him, the man left, alone. That's when I saw it clearly, and it hit me like a brick wall. Complete humanity, and total a display of absolute strength. The nurses were hugging each other and cried......wiped their eyes, washed their hands....and then continued their work, just as that man was going to go continue his life with out his special person, whom everyone loved. I also know the nurses would totally kill me if they knew I posted this about them. 

And I might miss my chemo treatment and have to wait another week, to get back to living.


GUYS.... what the hell. This is when you can let humility and life truly grab you by the teeth, chew you up, spit you out, while aiming you at a wall. That's how I felt, and how dearly I knew I needed perspective.
I think that's what sickness is, a constant reminder of getting your life into fucking perspective. That's where our strength is in pain.
True strength, are the nurses and men and women, husbands, children, family that have to deal, treat, see, emotional tend to, dress, and possibly bury their loved ones that are dealing with illness. And then go on with the day as normal. We just have to get through the day, and say thank you for still being alive...and truly mean it.
So thank you, THANKYOU to everyone taking the time to think of us, taking time to write and say, "HI, Thinking of you", to care for us, to send us these "boxes of sunshine" while we do our thing of keeping things in perspective, because it all directs us to that, that feeling of gratitude, beyond any pain or annoyance that treatment gives us. Thank you to my second mom, making sure my boys are fed, toyed up, weird animals are taken care of, loved enough, bringing me all the drinks and whatever she can think of to make our time easier..it makes me think, OH MY GOD. All these people. I love them all, I need to be better, get better, love them back. As nerdy as that is, that's a big chunk of my wellness.
Thank you for the dinners, the picking our boys up, the gifts from across the country, the candy, the thoughts. My best girlfriend with food, drinks, movies, coming even when I don't know I need her. Sitting with me in quiet and playing on our phones.
Everyone that bothers the nurses (I mean keeps me company) at chemo.
All of you, helping me happily gain this 15 pounds of steroid weight with all your food love. 😂😂 you all know I can't say no to desert. Cheese. Good food.
Prayers. It is that reminder of care, that people love us, reminding us that that is what is important. Breaking down our pride, and letting people love and help us.

Thankfulness for listening to us whine, or cry, or have moments of feeling sorry for ourselves, and BEING there for us in all these moments.

Gratitude reminds us of living, that we are living and breathing, and there is nothing better than loving the people around you, and being there with the people you love, no matter what condition you're in.

 Good grief. I think that's my point. I love you guys. Thank you for caring for us.


Your quirky weird friend,
who needs to learn to write better,
Jo

To Err.

I have been struggling internally with parenting for a while. I swore to myself that I would be a better parent and not make the same mistakes as mine... I grew up in a fairly dysfunctional family (which I have come to realize, who doesn't?) and I wanted to raise our children better. During this process, I have fretted, worried, panicked, and haven't actually enjoyed having our children because I was worrying about what I was doing wrong with them and constantly beating myself up over how I should of done things instead. It finally occurred to me that regardless of how I was raised, or what my parents did "wrong", I always knew I was incredibly loved. I never felt unwanted, and when I was in trouble, or things were rough.... I knew my parents loved me. And when my mother or father was upset, I wanted to help, soothe, make the problems go away, just as I knew they would for me.
So, I have come to the conclusion that the only real thing I want, is that no matter what -- I want my children to know that I love them. No matter how bad things seem, no matter how crazy the world will become around them, how ridiculous their parents may handle a situation, that their mother (and father) will always love them, and will always be there, no matter what they do. Simple. Right?

Oh..and I hope my parents forgive me for being unfair to them; the only thing they did wrong, was not telling me the only thing you need as a parent is love, understanding, the willingness to learn, make mistakes, and teach at least one thing (they will learn everything else from everyone else anyway.).

And signing out.

Dear Target:

I received a very generous $50 dollar gift card from Target for my son, Augustine's birth.. I LOVE Target, so I was excited to go purchase some new things for the tyke.




Bad idea #1 was of course deciding to take a one month old, and a 2 1/2 year old to Target for a shopping adventure.


Dumb idea #2, was grabbing the ridiculous, musthavebeencreatedbyaspawnwhohatedhismother shopping cart that is similar to what I imagine driving the world's largest Cadillac would be, with the turning radius of a casket down Target's isles.

See image :




I proceeded filling my cart with around 100$ worth of product and headed to the check out............this was after of course a brief nursing session for Augustine in the dressing room, while I fought with my 2 1/2 year old Ivan to stop opening the dressing room door and bolting out. I must brag, I did do pretty good at nursing, and chasing down the two year old, all the while keeping myself unexposed.



*Ehem*



Back to checkout, so I wait in line, with my now nearly rabid two year old (we had been in Target for a little over an hour or so), and my ingenious idea was to bribe him to be good with candy. That's right mom, make the kid sit for an hour, and then proceed to chuck him full of sugar -- I can only imagine the mental thought processes of the poor saps in line behind me as my child is standing up in this boat of a shopping cart, which enabled him enough room to stretch around the register to press buttons as the young man was ringing up my purchases. My form of discipline is to wave a bag of M&Ms and say "Please sit down honey"....while suppressing my inner demon-mom, because we all know once you let her out, it's hard to get her back in. Plus, I really couldn't do much because I was holding my previously crying one month old, and was in front of the ginormous cart, and couldn't get around it to get to get to Ivan even if I wanted to.


So after what seemed like an excruciating additional hour, I handed over my gift card, which was the initiation of this momentary delusional laps of judgement to go to the store in the first place.......


And then it happened...............




The kid swiped the gift card multiple times, trying to get it to work...deep down, I knew this kid would have difficulty getting the card to work, but I figured he'd get it handled. But NO, his register ends up printing a little receipt, and he ends up flipping the "Light of DOOM" in his isle on for the manager to come over. The manager comes over after the mandatory wait for any store with these lights, (by that I mean enough time for everyone behind you to find another line, and for both of your children to be crying, this of course is just an approximation). The manager took my gift card and the receipt..and told me to go ahead and wait outside of the aisle for her, and the kid ringing me up gave me a convenient receipt for my purchases that who ever rings me up next and just scan, and take my money.



So, I try to maneuver out of the isle, and get stuck with the damn cart, because dumb idea #40692, I'm holding my crying one month old and trying to guide it with with one hand. Helpful cashier boy stands and stares while I struggle to get the heck out of the lane.



So.......I finally get out of the isle, and I wait. and wait, and wait.............and wait.



Then the manager calls me over to the office, and this is what initiated me to write my first blog:




Her explanation.




First off, the card was empty, it was never purchased. Which is fine, she could of left it at that and explain that whomever purchased it needed to go back and figure out what happened. But, instead, she asked for the packaging it came in, left for a few more moments, came back again, and said that they have been having a problem with some Target employees doing a swap.



Basically, the person on the register will purchase the gift card, take your money, and then swap the real gift card, with an empty one..and keep your gift card for themselves.


So I was dumbfounded. I asked her what am I suppose to do.....and she explained that "I" would have to call whomever purchased it, and tell them that they would have to find their original receipt, call Target, and try to get their money back for the gift card. If they can't find the receipt, depending on how they paid for it, they could, or couldn't get their money back. And she gave me a number to call.




So there I was..standing in Target, unshowered, leaking on one side, holding a crying one month old on the other, wishing I had a shock collar for my 2 1/2 year old who was maniacally eating M&Ms' while standing on his seat and having an enthusiastic hello for every person who passed us....



and this young girl passed me, with the coolest hair cut I've ever seen, and the cutest quirky outfit, couldn't of been older than 20 years old, and I thought to myself........ I used to be that girl.




and now I'm home, writing this blog and would like to officially thankyou Target, for admitting you have noted internal theft problems with your staff and theft from your customers by them, and that your official response to it is a hearty, we don't give a damn.

So if you're going to buy a gift card, make sure you actually recieve a filled gift card!