The End of Innocence

Well,.... as innocence is dancing around like fairy dust in my sister Shari's house - innocence in MY house is gone.

(explanation: Shari blogged about how they bought the 3rd "Tinkerbell" movie and how her sweet, little Indiana (5 years old) loved it. But Indiana is all about fairies and princesses,.... magic and moonbeams,...... while at MY house...... well,..... things are very different.

At MY house - we look at life through REAL eyes.)

Shari's house,....... ballet lessons with pink tutus and ideas re: home schooling.

My house,..... TWO crazy, "Marley", 100 lb. yellow labs that rip and destroy anything left outside, all-consuming mud fights that make MOM insane, 11 year old hormones and the discovery of cute clothes, make up and BOYS, and a 6 year old that wants to create an art project even in her sleep.

(I'm actually considering putting a lock on my craft room door. Very tired of going into Haven's room to find bottles of leaking glue, .... sharp, scary scissors, .... reams of construction paper (cut up into small, creative shapes - everywhere), .... string and yarn stretched to all 4 corners of her bedroom, .... googgly eyes stuck and imbedded in her carpet, ..... small, colorful, EVIL beads that bite into my bare feet under the disguise of night, ..... do I really need to go on?

But anyway - innocence at MY house is gone. Yes, ..... gone for my sweet little London.

(sigh....)

Remember my previous post about London losing 3 teeth during her science class?

Well, she came home and using her new phone, .... she googled the tooth fairy.

Nice, huh?

It seems on her phone, she also discovered a 'tooth fairy app.'

Yes, ..... it seems for a mere .99¢ - you can have your child CALL the tooth fairy.

This set London's mind whirling.

She then informed me that she no longer believed in the tooth fairy.

I lied of course, and told her there really was a tooth fairy.

She squinted up her eyes and cocked her head at me.

I knew I was going to REALLY have to spew some good ones to make her believe. And believe me, I tried. But I know a lost cause when I see one.

She also informed me that she no longer believes in the Easter Bunny.

Uh oh,..... here it comes.......

But the funny things is - London came to this realization the day AFTER the tooth fairy left her $9.00 for her 3 teeth.

Could she possibly have figured it out a day earlier and saved me $9.00?

No. That would be too easy.

And so the next night, Haven started screaming for me minutes after I've already tucked her in, read her a story, let her get BACK up to get a drink of water, and she's wandered into Geoff and my room 3 separate times.

When I went in, I discovered that she had finally pulled out her 'month-long' loose tooth. WOW! How ironic. As the tooth fairy is dying over in London's room, .... here is Haven's room - she is suddenly re-born.

Funny how things turn out, huh?

And getting Haven back into bed after she had lost her FIRST TOOTH?

Yeah right.

If I ever needed propanol, it was then.

With Haven yelling, "this is the BEST day of my life EVER!" from her room, I sneaked into London's room to borrow some cash.

Why is it that teeth always fall out at night? Just minutes before bedtime?

Of course, London thought THIS was 'way cool." She liked the thought of being involved in all the action, and LOVED the power of lending me money even more.

Especially since she was actually lending the "tooth fairy" money.

The next morning when Haven found $9.00 under her pillow, she could NOT keep from chanting over and over to London, "I got $9.00 for ONE tooth! You got $9.00 for 3 teeth!"

Hopefully, she DOES understand that this is a special occasion - because it is her FIRST tooth.

And when London got home from school the next day, she informed me that she no longer believed in Santa Claus.

Boy, that was quicker than I thought. Geoff and I thought she would maybe last until Christmas - but we did not expect for it to happen the very next day.

Apparently, she must have also found a Santa app.

I tried to convince her that the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny were invented by greedy business owners who simply wanted to sell more things. I told her how Santa had SO many different names and how he was known by thousands of people for centuries!!

She said, "Mom,... it says online that there is NO Santa."

I came back with, "Oh yeah? ...... Well, it also says online that there is no God. Are you gonna believe that?"

Nice comeback mom.

And I really did have her believing again.

Then Geoff came home.

London attacked Geoff at the door and informed him about her doubts. Just like she did to me earlier - she asked him point blank if there really WAS a Santa Claus? (I am such a better liar than Geoff.)

He sat down on her bed and told her everything.

Traitor.

London then paraded into my room with a big smile and told me how 'sneaky' I am.

I informed her that she has NO idea just how sneaky I am. I explained how I was just trying to keep her believing - because that's the 'magic' of it all. She had no idea that once she stops believing, a part of her childhood would be dead. An innocence would be gone - and it would never ever be the same again.

London nodded and I think she understood.

But I know that I was more sad than London was. Flopping down on our bed, I told Geoff how sad I was. I couldn't believe that London no longer believed in Santa.

An hour later, London came slowly into our room. Passing Geoff's side of the bed, she crumbled into my arms. Tears were rolling down her face.

"Mom, ..... I can't believe there is no Santa Claus," she confessed, holding me tight.

I held her and told her that's why I didn't want her to know the truth. For a few minutes, we just held each other, while she sniffed in the darkness.

Trying to make things better, Geoff explained how she could now be a part of it all. She could now help to create the magic for Haven.

She thought about this for a second before pulling away from me. I thought she was leaving, but no, ....... this new thought had sent her mind whirling once again.

In the darkness, she suddenly had an idea. "Hey!.... now that I know, ...... can I be the one who pretends to be Santa during the night and takes bites out of the cookies?"

Don't worry. London will be all right. It seems that everything is back to normal ........

The Changing of Seasons

Well,..... I guess you can tell what season it is at OUR house.

Yes - it is obviously grasshopper mating season.

I saw these two and decided to test the clarity of the camera in my new iphone.

A few things I find interesting about the grasshoppers are:

•The males are much smaller than the females. (And obviously lighter in weight.....)

•And it seems that when lady grasshopper has had enough - she simply shoves the male grasshopper away - and ends the whole process.

Now that's what I'm taking about!!

Geoff's comment when he saw this video.......

Geoff: "Wow! Look at how her legs are hinged like that! She moved her legs back 180º!"

Then with a provocative wink added, "Baby,...... can YOU do that for ME?"

Men. Pigs. Swine.

Me: "Sure honey,..... when you're done taking out the trash and cleaning up all of your disorganized man piles - you just come and find me. I'll be sure to rotate my legs for you,......"

....... and my foot and my fist,......

...... and at WHICH body part do you want me to rotate my legs towards?"

But there ARE other seasons going on at our house.

London is NOW in 6th grade. She wears a bra, has braces, wears eyeshadow and lipgloss.

I can almost handle the development of breasts,..... but where did wearing of make-up come from?

For anyone who KNOWS London - they will know that she is the biggest Tom-boy EVER! Before 6th grade, her idea of make-up was fresh mud from the river in the backyard. Discovering London, Haven and Lauren (the BFF neighbor next door) at my back door CAKED in half wet/half dried-on mud - from their heads to their toes - was always a shear thrill for me. Most of the time I was just a pair of angry arms to drape their completely stained, brown clothing on as they stripped by the back door and ran past me for the shower.

So London now has baby breasts - AND she has installed Sterling Knight's picture on her phone.

(Oh yes,..... that is another change in our house - London has her own phone.)

Two days ago, London lost 3 teeth during her science class.

I know,...... how does one naturally lose THREE teeth in an hour?

I have no clue.

Possibly her braces were putting a strain on them.......?

Her dentist was already eyeing them. He had said, "It's time for them to come out."

So maybe, she is a bit psycho (like myself) and sat there wiggling them,...... pushing at them, prodding at them,..... until they DID come out.

Anyway - she lost 3 teeth. And after school she waltzed around with these teeth in a zip-lock bag.

Haven was very envious.

Haven, who has informed us that she has "waited 6 long years for ONE of her teeth to come out.

But the nice thing was - Haven actually HAD a loose tooth.

It's just that Haven's tooth has been loose for a good month.

And not being the obsessive, psycho (that London and I naturally are) Haven has taken her time with this tooth.

She has BARELY wiggled it,... hardly pushed it, and nearly NEVER prodded.

I was thinking we would be lucky if this tooth came out by her birthday (which is in January.)

I started dinner and tried to ignore the chanting of, "I have a bag with threeeeeee teeth,..... tooth fairy's coming to seeeeeeee meeeeeee,..........

I'm getting lots of moneeeeeeeey!"

While Haven stomped and wailed in harmony, "That's not fair! I want MY tooth to come out! I want the tooth fairy to come to me too!"

And once dinner hits, evenings at our house become a blur.

There's making sure homework is done, baths or showers, combing out hair, pajamas, TV time for the girls, making sure dessert is eaten BEFORE "Bedtime!" is called out.....

I know it sounds simple, but it's not.

That family on TV that has 19 kids (and quotes the mother as saying she is ready for more.....) is completely insane. I mean, look at how psycho I am with only 2.

If I were that woman, I'd be pulling my hair out.

Seriously!

My head would look like a molting parrot (or one that obsessively plucked at its own feathers in delirium!)

The light in my eyes would be similar to that of an overworked Walmart cashier during Christmas, and I would be on more medication than Anna Nicole Smith, Michael Jackson and Lindsay Lohan combined.

To my sisters Judi and Barbi who each have 4 kids - you both get an invisible brownie button in my book. Just thinking about it makes me,......

No........

I don't even want to think about it.

I'd rather have a colonoscopy then even imagine it.

Anyway,...... I awoke at 4 am and suddenly remembered London and her 3 teeth.

In the dark, I began a desperate search for cash.

(The tooth fairy,....... remember?)

I managed to find $9.00. She DID have 3 teeth!

(I would be curious to know the going rate on teeth these days. If anyone out there is simply giving away quarters for teeth - than I am OBVIOUSLY paying out WAY too much!)

I slipped the money under her pillow and staggered back to my room.

But not before wacking my thigh on the bedframe.

I swear that bedframe is alive.

I KNOW it shifts slightly from left to right- because I always nail my body against it.

"Ooooomph!" I gasped, rubbing my leg.

That'll leave a mark.

Psycho vs. Courage

It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before - to test your limits - to break through barriers..... 'author unknown'

This is what I am telling myself...... every second........ of every day - for the next 2 agonizing weeks.

I know, I am psycho - I admit it. But to be aware of your shortcomings is the first step. Many lost souls simply walk through life and never know they are psycho. I take solace in my knowing,.... in my accepting.... and in my admitting. I am at peace with this knowledge.

The reason for my sudden psycho-ness? The 25th Annual Pecan Festival. It is scheduled for Sept. 25. And it is here in Mansfield, TX.

There will be Bake-offs, prizes for the best lemon meringue pies, 5k runs (Barbi you should come!), food galore, games like horse shoes (yes,.... we ARE in Texas...) and lastly......... a very exciting singing competition called the 'Home Town Idol Competition.'

Since MY girls LOVE to sing and lately I have been encouraging them more and more to sing, I thought, "what a lovely way to bond even more - through singing....."

There are 3 categories in this contest. London and Haven both fall into the 12 and under age category, then there's the 13-17 age category, and lastly - the 18 to elderly and decrepid category. I fall into this one. And since it has SERIOUSLY been 20 years since my young, fresh, perky, energetic, lean limbs have scrambed onto a stage and eagerly belted out confident notes - full of strength and hope - I find myself a BIT anxious,.......JUST a bit....... yeah.... a little bit.....

Oh! I didn't tell you the whole story? Sorry, .... well then.....let's back up. All three of us auditioned. London, Haven and I (Oh! and Danielle across the street - this is London's friend.) We all traipsed down to the local old time theatre on Main Street (where plays and productions take place - not movies or films.) We sat down in old, squeaky, pull down chairs and stared at the closed, red velvet curtain drawn across the silent stage. Parents were sitting with their children, whispering quietly - it was a very anxious few minutes before someone in charge stood up and announced what we were to do.

"When you hear your name, please go onstage, state your name loudly, your age and what song you will be singing." (We were only to sing acapella - and only for about 30 seconds.) I supposed in that small amount of time, one could tell if we were yodeling slack-jawed yokels, awkwardly bellowing out mating calls to the longhorns in the local fields - and that we did NOT belong here.

With a sharp click, a spotlight suddenly illuminated the lone microphone stand on the stage and the theatre dimmed. My heart hammered loudly, anticipating the first unfortunate victim.

A name was called out, and a dark haired girl rose from her chair in the front row. She looked about 13 - was sort of frumpy,... and overly excited, she moved quickly. As she passed in front of the stage, she suddenly tripped - and fell FLAT on her hands and face.

Seriously - she went down like a pro doing some sort of stunt. And as if it was all part of her performance, she landed with her arms and legs out at her sides - FLAT on the floor. We all gasped. Instantly, she was on her feet telling us, (almost pleading with us) that 'she was ok.'

Melting into my chair, I could barely look at her - I felt SO BAD for her. As she climbed the stairs to the stage, we all just stared - our mouths still gaping open from her humiliating 'splat' on the concrete floor. As the silence stretched around her, she stood for a moment, her hand touching the microphone, and then she announced her name and age. She WAS only 13. Poor thing.

As I watched her, my mind raced. I would've tucked my tail and ran for the hills! Man! I had to give that girl some credit. But she didn't just announce her name. She amazed us even further by giving a little speech.

"Since I love America and tomorrow is the anniversary of 9-11, I am going to sing the National Anthem," she announced.

Obviously, her embarrassing 'splat' had certainly not squelched her American pride. And then she sang - and she was really good. She was like a Disney Kid with the trills of notes going up, down, tucked under and held,.... her notes skipped, dipped, rose........ dove, they climbed,..... it was like listening to Mariah Carey when she goes on and on and on - creative and artsy - and you just wish she would sing it the normal way or hurry up and finish it already! But the girl was really good.

That's when I looked over at my kids and knew they didn't belong here. Now don't get me wrong - They LOVE to sing,..... and they're good. It's just that London sometimes sounds like a cat outside your window at night, who's howling at another cat outside your window..... (she's not really THAT bad) and little Haven.... well, she sounds like a gentle Munchkin singing a country song - or in other words, Dolly Parton on helium.

But they ARE very cute to watch.

Truth is: they are not Disney Kids - and this was an audition of Disney Kids on a sugar/steroid high. I was feeling very out of place myself.

Not to sound overly confident - but I have always been able to stay on tune and some have actually told me I had a really good voice.

But now, at 43, ...... need I say more?

I would've traded some of my blings back home in my jewelry box for some of these 15 year old's voices. (and their butts, for that matter.)

I was suddenly overcome with a desperate need to bribe London and Haven with the promise of donuts, hot chocolate and a years supply of pixie sticks if they would agree to give up this whole crazy idea and slink quietly out of the theatre.

But they really wanted to do this - and I really wanted to support them. So with motherly and unconditional love - and in a moment of PURE insanity - I had actually signed MY NAME to the audition list.

Yes,...... it is true. I am psycho.

You heard me correct.

Yes. I auditioned too.

I,.... who has not sang in public for over 20 years - signed my name. As if I would have NO problem doing this simple little thing,.... I took the pen and signed my name.

That was 20 minutes ago - and this was now.

Now, I could barely breathe knowing I was #5 and #1 (the patriotic Disney kid) had just finished.

Very quickly, it was London's turn. She sang, 'Love Story' by Taylor Swift - then I sang, 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac - and Haven sang, 'I Need You Now' by Lady Antebellum. And we ALL did really well. I was seriously impressed that they could do something so intimidating and scary. The whole time I sang, my hands were shaking and I had this 'deer in the headlight' sort of look on my face. When I took a breath, I could feel how every ounce of saliva in my mouth had instantly evaporated. My tongue felt like a dry, shriveled-up sponge. I tried to act like I wasn't having a heart attack, but every eye was watching me - and they knew. They knew I had just peed my pants.

But my girls - they simply walked up there, took the microphone, announced their name and sang - la la la la la..... as if they did this everyday.

A hour later - at home - I was still shaking. We were told that someone would call us Sunday IF we made it through to the next round. At this point, I was seriously praying that we didn't get a call.

Sunday we got the call.

And the verdict was: London and Haven did NOT make it.

But guess what?

I did.

Thud, thud,..... thud, thud,..... thud, thud,...... thud, thud,.......

THAT is the sound of my heart.

EVERYTIME I think about it, my face goes pale and my heart starts going crazy.

And since there were only 3 people trying out in the 'elderly and decrepid' category, I automatically MADE it into the final round.

THE FINAL ROUND will take place LIVE..... AT the Pecan Festival.

I cannot believe I have done this to myself.

Half of me is sort of excited,...... but the other half wants to set myself on fire so I will be laid up in the hospital when the 25th rolls around.

And yet I know - If I hadn't tried out, the whole time while watching the performers, I would be DYING to be up there.

But I also know, that NOW I WILL BE DYING - because the whole time I'm watching, I will KNOW that I am NEXT!

I know - I am a psycho. A complete psycho. Do not think I am NOT aware of this. Do you remember? I AM the one who admitted it earlier in this blog.

So, now I am scouring my list of songs that I know well, ......

that I possibly sing WELL,.....

and I am freaking.

I REALLY just want to call them up and tell them I've changed my mind.

But I don't want to show my girls that I am a quitter.

I REALLY just want to NOT stress about this for 2 weeks!

I really just want to quit.

But I can't.

So once again, I have gotten myself into something that will frazzle my brain and mess with my mind (and make me even more insane later.....)

Welcome to my world.

The world of an uncontrollable YET admitted psycho.

Won't you come on in?

Please make yourself at home.......

and stay for a while.

Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!

Ok - so it's been almost 2 years since I've last blogged.

But I've been REALLY busy!!

REALLY!

It's not that I haven't thought of sitting down and catching up - I really have. But then,.... something always seems to happen.

Something gets spilled, kids are screaming at each other down the hall, my two 100 lb. Marley's (yellow labs) are either digging out under the fence, chewing up their 34th lawn hose, knocking over the aluminum cans (and creating aluminum can confetti all over my lawn), chasing wild turkeys around the property, escaping through our automatic fence and high-tailing it towards Oklahoma or maybe the "houdini" goats have gotten out and are eating the only plant that has managed to survive in this God-forsaken 100 degree heat - my roses!

Today is the 17th day in a row of 100 degree heat.

"Help! I'm melting....."

Seriously, .... I really am.

Whatever the reason - I have thought about it and I vow to begin blogging again. I have really felt guilty about leaving my "loyal readers" hanging on - wondering and waiting for my next chaotic adventure.

(Yeah right! .... "Hello? ..... Loyal readers?.... Anyone out there?" ....

- resounding echo -

.... anyone out there?... anyone out there? .... anyone out there?.....)

And after all, I should have documentation for when they commit me to the local institution, shouldn't I? It would be nice to be able to prove that I'm not really crazy - just kind of crazy because of everything I am forced to put up with, right?

Right.

But,..... you all will have to sit tight for just a bit more.

Because I recently read a blog where the woman was emphatic about having her "me" time.

Now THAT is what I'm talking about!

And although the thought of "me" time brings to mind......

..... bonbons, bubble baths, glasses of wine, possibly a chick flick (at the theatre away from everyone and not at home shushing the kids as they play around me), perhaps even the fantasy of having $5,000 to simply blow at a gambling table while Matthew McConaughey rambles on next to me - in his delectable southern drawl talking about "how lovely I am" and "can he buy me a drink?"

MY simple "me" time must for now, consist of tugging on tennis shoes and grudgingly stepping onto my treadmill.

Which, by the way - has also not seen or heard from me for about the same amount of time.

Sorry to admit that,..... but there it is.

The simply truth is - I have fallen into a lazy slump.

I promise I will try harder.

That's all.

Every Breath We Take

Geoff is at a funeral right now. One of his friends, (a co-worker) died on Christmas day. This was a man he met just this last year, right after I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Right before my diagnosis, this man was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. When he heard about me - Geoff and he began talking. I remember Geoff coming home so sad about this man's condition. As his condition worsened, Geoff watched him get thinner and thinner. I think seeing this man, and also knowing him - and the fact that he didn't have much time left, made Geoff realize how lucky we really were. And the whole time, this man would ask Geoff how I was doing. He was praying for me! He knew he didn't have much time left, and yet he was thinking of me. This last week, the hospital sent him home. He could barely eat. In fact, I believe Geoff told me that he couldn't eat anymore. I can't imagine being sent home from the hospital basically,... to die.

I don't think I will ever know how truly lucky I was - that my cancer was found so early. I can't imagine being diagnosed with cancer and knowing I only have a little bit of time left before I will die. Life as I know it, simply existing - effortlessly inhaling and exhaling breath,... is something I don't even think about. It is something I take for granted. Even after having a double mastectomy and going through all the recovery - I still can't relate to the fact that I could have so easily died! Never having pain or symptoms, and how I bounced back so easily after my surgeries - my whole cancer experience still seems so surreal.

And this man,... after opening his Christmas presents,..... died. I can't even imagine. As I write this, I have a really bad headache - one that is quickly turning into a migraine. But at least I can feel this pain. I am alive to have this headache. I think of this man, and of my father who passed away two years ago - and I can't imagine not being! All of us who just took a breath of air without thinking, without even realizing it - please know how lucky we are. Say a prayer for someone out there who is not so healthy or so fortunate.

And......

when this brief life

has ended,

.... the angels

shall lift us

on golden wings,

.... into the Light

from which we came.

Hell has GOT to be better than this!

I know I still have to break down and tell the hellacious story of LICE that our family lovingly received from WHO KNOWS WHERE, but it is such an exhausting experience, that I have been procrastinating. Maybe when I'm 90 and after going through hypnosis, I will be able to pull it from the depths of my mind (where I have blissfully hidden it away) and relive it. But anyway,... yesterday I felt I could NOT catch my breath in my insane race of life, merely surviving, the ridiculousness of children, evil errands, being a mom, and did I say life already? After running all over the earth and back doing errands, trying to pacify Hannah with some kind of craft,.... making phone calls and being made to wait for HOURS while customer service reps put me on hold and (I seriously believe) they must lay their heads down and take a nap - and just slaving around the house, I finally took a deep breath and tried to stop my erratic heartbeat and keep myself from having a nervous breakdown.

Of course, I could NOT keep still and simply relax. I needed to vacuum. Had such a deep urge,... an obsession because I was sick and tired of wiping my bare feet onto my pant leg to remove debris that had collected on the bottom of my bare feet simply from walking across my carpet or kitchen floor. I turned on Christmas music, gently stoked the fire and began my new task. Oh! The sheer pleasure of losing myself in vacuuming! I felt my shoulders relax. I felt a smile began to replace the "I'm going to die right NOW!" scowl that lately has branded my face. I was in heaven.

When out of nowhere, my back door burst open and London whirled in from getting off the bus. With her powerful, usual hyperactive energy, she took a moment (just for extra effect...) and just stood there - staring at me. Oh no, I thought. What is it? Surely, even at this time of year - 7 days away from Christmas, there could not be another miracle in history! But by the look on her face, I clearly knew London was pregnant - at 9 without yet ever having her period! But hey,..... a miraculous conception has been known to have happened before, right? I waited for her bomb to hit as she stared me down, and then finally announced that the older sister of the girl across the street had lice. LICE? LICE did you say? I think by this time, I would rather hear that I had breast cancer all over again!! In fact,... I would give anything for London to actually BE pregant - at 9, (without yet having her period) before I wanted lice AGAIN!

And then as I stood in bare feet on my kitchen floor, the vacuum still gracefully held by my beautiful, motherly hand - Haven reached up and took a plastic cup from the counter. NOTE: This plastic cup contained a Christmas ornament London had made the night before by pouring PAINT inside a clear, ROUND, glass ball ornament. The ornament sat IN the cup upside down, to allow the PAINT to run out, thus giving the inside a chance to dry. PAINT had collected in the bottom of the plastic cup and my girls had been fascinated by this paint-dripping procession ever since. Every hour or two, they would run by the counter to peek at the extraordinary sight of this rare, but ever-so-unusual display of gravity. I need you to take extra notes now and let me know if you did listen carefully when I said the word paint... (Now back to our previously scheduled program.)

So, as Haven, with her small, innocent hands - reached up, and took this unusual (and of course, beloved) ornament from the counter, she accidentally squeezed a little too hard and sent the glass ball OVER the edge of its protective plastic cup. And this all happened so fast, almost instantaneously. I don't even remember Haven actually lifting the cup off the counter - it was as if it suddenly and magically just appeared in her hands. And as the glass ball cascaded over the edge of its plastic world, a small bomb suddenly exploded in my house. As the glass ball hit my kitchen floor, it shattered into a million shards of colorful glass and sent gooey blobs of wet paint everywhere.

I just stood there in shock. Paint dripped off the Christmas tree, trickled down my cabinets, ran down Haven's forehead, glistened from the cat's eyeballs and landed in creative drops and streaks across my kitchen floor. Glittering beautifully,..... on TOP of the wet paint blobs, were broken, sharp edges of glass - now stuck ON the paint as if they had been thoughtfully and purposely glued on with special care. I have to admit- as I stood frozen in one spot, not daring to trod into the delicate yet dangerous mine field of bizarre and curious shrapnel,... (remember, I had bare feet) - the thought, (although fleetingly) - suddenly screamed out in my already "fried" mind, "Hell HAS got to be better than this!"

I promise, I will let you know. I have personally called HELL, and after being put on hold for hours - (I am convinced that Satan's best customer service reps don't bother to take sneaky naps, but they actually pack up and go to college for four years and THEN maybe come back to answer your questions!) But I have called. I have seen all the brochures. And I will let you know what Hell is like. Although it cost me an arm, a leg, and one of my new breast implants,..... I have made reservations, and I am GOING! I will talk to you when I return - hopefully with a new outlook on life.

Breast Cancer for Christmas

This week marks the year anniversary of my being diagnosed with breast cancer. After my biopsy, I had to wait about 10 days for my results. In encouragement, my friends and family kept telling me I didn’t know anything until the doctor called – but I knew they were wrong. I can’t explain how sometimes we just seem to know things, but I knew.

The day before my birthday, (Dec. 14th) I was trying to stop thinking about when I would get the call,….. When I did finally get the call. As I stared at the phone ringing for the second time, I just stood there. With my heart hammering double time, I finally picked up the receiver. I didn’t want to hear it - and until I actually heard my doctor’s voice, saying those words to me - there was still a shred of hope. But none of that really mattered,… because I already knew. As my doctor went on about the biopsy, nothing clicked and fully registered until I heard him say, “And yes, I’m sorry to tell you - that you do have Breast Cancer.” As my sweaty hand gripped the phone, my shaky breathing suddenly switched to gasps.

I don’t remember crying hysterically,…. It was just that after that moment tears were always in my eyes. If I wasn’t actually crying, the promise of tears were always hovering or hanging from my eyelashes. I noticed everything I hadn’t noticed before. Devouring my children with my eyes, I suddenly noticed their habits more. I saw how tall they were,…and just how beautiful they were. At night, I’d sneak into their rooms, climb slowly under their blankets and snuggle up close to them. I would lie for hours just holding them and smelling them. As the pillow beneath my head slowly became wetter and wetter with my tears, I would stare out their doorways and watch how the reflections of colored lights from the Christmas tree danced off the walls.

My mind was racing. How many more Christmases would I have with my kids,…. with my husband? Would they know how much I loved them if I died? Who would fix everything up just the way they liked? Could I really give up the sweetness of my children’s kisses and accept that I had cancer? How big was my cancer? Where exactly was it? How fast was it growing? Why didn’t I have any symptoms? Was it possible that a nurse accidentally mixed up some files and I was really okay? During the 10 days prior to Christmas, my brain was a mess. Even though I had immediately made appointments to see specialists, it was the holidays. I was forced to wait until after the New Year to see anyone.

Christmas morning, my eight year old daughter London, wanted me to open her present first. At her school they have a special store planned by the PTA. The kids bring money and pick out whatever they want as gifts for their family. To a child – this is paradise, topped off with a pink pony. Not being able to wait any longer, London eagerly placed her gift in my hands. I peeled the tape away from the bulky, uneven blob of wrapping paper. (I think she used a whole roll of tape and wrapping paper to wrap it.) Inside, I discovered a small, red embroidered box. London had taped a small note on the outside that read, “I love you mom.” - TO: Mom / From: London. I looked up at London’s face. It was glowing with love and anticipation. When I opened the box, I found a small, glass angel with a golden halo. The angel’s small, glass hands were holding a red heart.

“It’s an Angel Worry Box!” London explained with pride, opening the red box a little wider to show me a small parchment glued on the inside. “This angel will take away all your worries, Mom!” I smiled a shaky smile. So bad I wanted this simple, glass angel to take away all my worries - but I knew better. I still had cancer, and I was terrified. And as I stared at this precious gift, I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t see through the wall of tears pouring from my eyes. As my emotions rose up from inside me and ran down my face, I couldn’t do anything but make small choking sounds. I pulled London into my arms. She hugged me back just as fiercely. As the tears slid down my face, I laid my head on her shoulder and sobbed. Reaching up, London gently stroked my hair.

I took that glass angel with me when I had my double mastectomy on Feb. 13. And although I lost my breasts, I received the best presents of all. I received love, comfort, support, a family who will always be there for me (no matter what,) my beautiful angel worry box and Breath. And no matter what anyone says - love and especially breath are the greatest gifts of all!

UPDATE: My Stage 1 Invasive Cancer was caught very early. So early in fact, that doctor’s are in awe of how lucky I am/was. All of the cancer was removed during my mastectomy and nothing reached my lymph nodes. I needed no Chemo and no radiation. My doctor’s tell me I definitely had an angel watching over me. I smile because I know this is true. I did have an angel watching over me,…. a small, glass angel with a golden halo and a red heart. As a matter of fact,… she watches over me still.

“The Angel in this box

Is the guardian of your heart.

Give her your worries

And your fears,

So hope and peace can start.

Keep this box nearby you,

And know how much she cares,

For when you need love and joy,

Your Angel will be there.”