Should I Eat These Crackers (nuts, cookies, olives, etc)?
Are they unopened? —-then probably not.
Are they a brand you don’t recognize or usually see in the cupboard? —-probably definitely not.
Are they fancy? —-oooh, probably really shouldn’t.
Is it December? —-Danger danger danger
Did you answer yes to two or more of these questions? If so, don’t you dare eat those crackers, they are for COMPANY.
COMPANY!
Next year, I might give the kids gifts on Thanksgiving. By that day the kids have outgrown last years jackets and are down to one glove between the two of them. My resolve to hide their new coats, gloves and hats is gone before the pumpkin pie is.
This morning, Felix was distressed that he couldn’t find his coat. Not in the house, not in the van. He gets so anxious as it is (mornings are tough), I was glad I could be the hero and not just the parental nag for once. Up from the basement I emerged triumphant with the most amazing, most warm and most “cool” new ski jacket. Whew.
Tonight, chit chatting about our day, Felix said he felt guilty about ruining a Christmas surprise with the coat. Then, he explained, after exploring the cool new jacket’s NINE pockets, he felt even worse that he also ruined the “cool ski pass surprise”.
Crap. The ski pass. Felix thought I had gotten him a ski trip to Germany for Christmas.
I didn’t.
What I DID do is get him a second hand ski jacket that has BEEN to Germany.
Bless his heart, he thinks that is EVEN COOLER.
My favorite ritual is nail night. Charlie pulls up a chair and plays salon. The first time that he asked “Can I tell you about my day?” I thought oh can you ever!
Sometimes it’s his actual day, but more often it’s a pretend day, all the yummier.
Charlie: “I went on a journey with my family for work. We took a train, to Texas, yes Texas I think. We had to inspect some some concrete, yah concrete. Then we built a house close to Japan. Then we came back home for a little snack and then I came here”
Mama: “Wow, sir, I bet you are ready for some pampering! Let’s pick colors”
Charlie: “I’d like the blue grey for my fingers and the bright pink for my toes because it reminds me of my kids.”
And so it goes, as he wiggles and I dab, I learn about this guy in the concrete business who has two kids, is divorced from their mom, but takes them all on his train trips….
…Until the five year old returns and asks me in a quiet voice to remember to take the polish off on Sunday night so the people at school don’t tease him again and say that nail polish is only for girls…I hate that part.
In a valiant effort to reduce our TV time, we’ve designated nightly themes—Monday Movie Night, Tuesday Game Night, Wednesday Art & Crafts, Thursday Cozy Book Time, etc.
We love TV, and our iPads and our phones and I don’t feel any shame in that. We consume what I think is the very best in education and entertainment…The Muppets, The Simpsons, etc. But winter is coming; when it’s dark and cold we do screen overload.
So, week one of Mama’s big plan. We’ve watched The Little Mermaid, played something called Clack!, doodled and painted, and had a nice quiet evening reading.
We've also had a long week—math homework, customers, bloody noses, Big Meetings, doctors appointments, holiday anxiety, moody meltdowns and all the usual chaos. Tonight, we’re done—
I’ve been in bed since five, Paulie ordered two pizzas, the kids went through a six pack of soda, all the iPads are in use simultaneously and the TV is playing YouTube videos.
We call it Fuck It Friday.
I have an email account for Felix just for the purpose of two apps, a by-product of Covid remote school. Sometimes I look at it to see what it’s like to have an empty inbox.
To feel the cool, fresh breeze against my brain. The nothingness, the sweet calm.
No one asking “Did you get my last email?”. No one reminding me to resend the attachment that was, in fact, attached. Not a need to reply “per my last email..highlight highlight highlight”. No chains of Reply All that have NOTHING TO DO WITH ME OR MY JOB.
What is that like? What color is the sky there? Are the birds always singing? When I see the blankness of that screen, I hear birds. Sweet sweet birds.
Charlie asked me to explain Daylight Savings Time to him on the walk to school today. After fumbling and failing miserably as we walked across the school yard, I said “Shush we’re walking through all the sixth graders and I still have anxiety.”
I then proceeded to explain Anxiety with the knowledge and confidence of a TED speaker.
History zero. Mom one.
Some of it is rather twee, and I am very very rusty, but I’m doing this again.
And by this I mean spending all my money on supplies.
My nurse navigator shared some “interesting news” with me this past week. At a big Breast Cancer conference, a study was released that shows Kadcyla (my post surgery infusion chemo) is radiosensitive.
In layman’s terms, it makes the side effects of radiation much more intense, and they start sooner.
NO SHIT I TOLD YOU FROM THE FOURTH RADIATION DOSE.
Apparently they are now revisiting all their patients on the same regimen currently in radiation and “watching them closer.”
You’re welcome.
I’ll never forget saying I can’t swallow and they said “already?”
I use my work calendar as my personal calendar too, for tracking appointments and school events, things like that. And doctors appointments, lots of doctors appointments. I copy or “invite” Paulie to them so we can arrange pick ups, etc. Very handy for the usual family logistics.
Today I was double checking my schedule when I noticed that I had invited a Paul to my gynecologist appointment next week. A Paul. Not MY Paul.
To my gynecologist appointment. That I had titled “Kate’s Coochie Check Up”.
I invited a CUSTOMER.
AND HE ACCEPTED.
I’m taking a watercolor class this morning. I don’t like school. Cancer has been hard, but school was my first trauma. Charlie gave me some drawing advice: “Remember to do as many details as you can”.
Mom said I’m going to love it. A Saturday morning watercolor class during breast cancer treatment, a middle aged woman trying (again) to paint— it’s so cliche.
If I walk in and smell the menopause, I’m outta here.
