2011~ A Charlie Sheen Kind of Year

A year with ups and downs, highs and lows, winning and losing. I figure a loose comparison to Charlie Sheen isn't uncalled for. I didn't have any goddesses or tiger blood but it has been a learning and growing year for me.

I have had some really good times. No, not drug-infused, but the laugh-out-loud, deep-breath-because-its-so-relaxing, tingly-all-over kind of fun. Seriously. Without drugs! Ok, a little wine or a great martini, sure.

My handsome Sinatra has been more here for me than any man in my life, even without him being physically here much of the time. I know when I finally realized how much we loved each other I was winning. I owe him for most of my UP times and deep breaths this past year.

My bestest girlfriends, Cora, K and K, my sister and a few fun others have been my rocks who sit and gab for hours about work, weight, exercise, kids, men, marriage, and anything under the sun. I'm so lucky they are 10 minutes away and we can jump on our bikes and ride the country roads, or meet with the kids for yogurt. These special ladies are willing meet anytime to share a margarita while bitching about the men in our lives (of course not you, sweetie), 'cause that's what friends are for. Hey, now that I think about it, maybe I do have some goddesses around me.

I have gotten to travel this past year twice with my group of high school friends who I haven't seen in years but fell right into the good ole days with as soon as we reconnected. Sinatra and I were so lucky to find these friends and make two different trips with them. One with all the kids and one with only the adults. Much love and laughter on both. Other trips with Sinatra and I and the kids were great bonding times for our new double-sized family. Such happy times.

I had some unlucky and scary times as well. Finding more spots on my follow-up mammogram and then the two biopsy surgeries to rid me of the cancerous cells floating around in me was paralyzing fear I'd not yet experienced before in my life. I had so many questions and dark thoughts rolling around in my head, but I kept going through my days by sheer will power and routine to not let myself wallow in it too much. I read up on what I had and my treatment, and followed message boards of other women with much worse to deal with and tried to put it all in perspective. I had cancer, and now its gone. I'm keeping that thought in the forefront until I'm told otherwise.

The only other negative drama has come in the form of people in my life who dislike me for not who I am but for what I have become to my boyfriend and his children. I love these four people and want them in my and my girls' lives. They want to be with us too. The ex and her husband suddenly in this past year are very concerned with the children living in another town and their control over them. Their lifestyle has not been one conducive to having children around on a regular basis before now, but they want to prevent the kids from living and/or moving with their father. Their father, who has happily never waivered in his devotion to them during the over two years since the marriage ended. Much time and money has been spent on this and its far from over. No concrete plans of a move are being made for this reason. I have good days and bad days on how this affects me. I am on the outside looking in but am also very involved when it comes to the arguing and ugliness causing pain to my dear man and his children. I want it all to resolve so we can move on, no matter what the outcome.

For all the bad, there really was much more good. I'm blessed to have all the people in my life and a stable family and job. I get love and support from most everyone I choose to be around. I have a solid sense of my own self that has always pulled me through adversity by working hard and loving well, and the reward is getting to enjoy it all. It doesn't have to come easy, I will do what I have to do to make it happen.

Bring on a New Year, in the wise words of Charlie Sheen, "Born ready. Winning."

Negativity Begone!

I've mentioned I have faith. I've mentioned I have two great kids and a loving boyfriend with 3 great kids. I've got a mom and dad living close by, a warm house that is all mine, and a good steady job. So why am I Worst-Case-Scenario-Sally?

I expose myself to stories on the news and stories from friends and I hear about awful things some people do to other people and I tend to assume the most negative outlook from any perplexing situation. This mood comes and goes I realize, but this time of year, or maybe its just this time of month, I'm swimming a pool of negativity.

I want to get out of the pool. I want to try to see the good possibilities that could happen and not just the bad ones. I guess I'm trying to protect myself from having my bubble burst. My goal would be to just blow up that bubble full-size and watch it fly and not worry about it popping. What if it doesn't? Great! How great would it be to ride that wave of positivity on into the sunset? It's a nice thought. Now to implement.

I have been burned before. Failed marriage for one. I remember the depths of unhappiness I felt during the end of that and I am desperate to not go through it again. Failed relationship after the marriage too. Disappointment and more sadness. But what if Sinatra is the man who will help me get through any downs as well as enjoy the ups with me? Why would I deny myself (and him) that chance? It feels more right than any other partnership I've ever had, I am sure of that.

I have to face the fact my life WILL have more unhappiness, but that having him next to me, truly WITH me, will give me strength like I have never had before to ride it out. I have pulled strength from deep within myself already to get out of those two relationships all by MYSELF. I did that. I really did that and all alone. I have been taking care of my kids and household and finances alone ever since. I have that power. I don't want my future to be me being all strong and powerful but alone. That's no fun.

Sinatra and I have gone through some hits so far. The long distance between us, the ex-wife, the 5 kids. We've been pretty great at handling everything together. He tries to protect me from some of it, but I'm annoyingly persistant and usually get him to share with me what's up. We talk it out. I still worry my negativity will start to be a turn-off, but sometimes his unwavering cheerfulness annoys me too. We are no doubt a good ying-yang couple.

I'd like to make it a resolution for 2012 to open my mind to the possibility of a postive outcome. Prayer, meditation, whatever...I need to find that. I'm not getting younger and negativity is poison for my future health. I want to grow older gracefully and have Sinatra right there holding my hand being older and graceful next to me. We deserve that chance. I'm going to give it a whirl...I bet it turns out GREAT.

Answered Prayers are Awesome

I don't usually discuss religious matters in public. I am Catholic which by definition means I'm pretty quiet about my faith. The most I ever talk about religion out loud is with my first graders whom I teach RE at my church, or if I'm yelling "Jesus is watching you!" to my own kids when they are acting like heathens.

I have a very full life with friends and family from all corners of my world. I may not be the most traveled person in the real world, but I make efforts to keep up with my loved ones no matter where they live or what they're doing. First MySpace and now Facebook have amplified this fact tenfold but I was always that classmate/family member who drives or flies off to someone's baby shower, wedding, holiday party or even funeral. Small towns like Waco, Bryan, and Baytown, or awesome big cities like Pittsburgh, San Diego and Tahoe. Just give me a reason.

I've kept up Christmas cards with people I haven't seen in person in 10-plus years. It is hard for me to STOP corresponding with people, even when its probably expected. After my divorce it was actually hard for me to not keep up with my ex-family. But even now, 5 years later, I still facebook with several of them.

I love all the people I've kept in my life and I stay invested in the events happening to them, and this leads me to worry for them. And I pray for them. I get really emotionally involved if someone is posting they are having surgery, are divorcing, have gotten ill, or have a parent die. I see others post they will keep them in their prayers. Sometimes I post the same, and sometimes I just say a silent prayer. I keep following the individual until I see they are okay. I don't often say much more because Facebook is such a public place and yes, they might have broadcast their news, but if I'm giving prayers I just do it...and don't feel the need to announce it.

Lately thankfully I have noticed some of my prayers have been been answered. I go throughout my days checking in on people and thinking about people and here lately I have noticed a few things have been better for those I've prayed for. Not grand, over-the-top, huge sucesses but still important. A sick child turns the corner and gets better despite the odds (this one WAS grand!), someone's legal issues seem to be working in their favor, a friend's job search shows new possibilities, two people find love when they had all but given up.

The power of prayer is real. It does not have to be showy or loud or all glitz and sparkles. Even tiny upsides should be thanked. They are part of a bigger picture and a grander scheme. In my little world, I will do what I can for those I care about, and prayer is one part of it.

Thank God.

Hi, I'm a Worrywort...Is It Worth It?

I worry. I know all parents and most adults worry but I need to work on how much I worry. I occupy precious brain space with worry. But no one else is around to worry about my stuff or my kid's stuff.

I have picked up some anxiety about things that I never used to think about. I blame the internet. I worry about all those horrible images we get sent in emails and on Facebook. They warn us of attackers waiting by random babyseats on the side of the road, or tell us not to smell a perfume in the Walmart parking lot. I worry I'll open an email and wipe out my whole computer. That I'll leave my cell phone charging too long and a fire will start. I gotta stop reading that crap.

Some new worries come from being older and trying to conserve my physical self so I'm not a burden on my children. Why do I care if I'm a burden on them later in their lives? They are a burden on me nearly every day (I say jokingly) so it's only fair I pay them back in full. But nonetheless, I brush my teeth twice a day AND floss and use expensive facecreams and take glucosimine chondroitin for my joints to be fluid and smooth recommended by my chiropractor. I try to eat right and keep my weight down and take my cancer hormones so I don't get cancer in the other breast. I drink tons of water and take vitamins and supplements for everthing. I'm making my kids into worryworts forcing them to worry about this same stuff, but I guess that's good for their future kids.

New worries that have begun are sort of obsessions I've developed in recent years that I can't explain. Wasteful behaviors bug me. I know I didn't grow up in the 30s or 40s where rationing was popluar but I hate to let water run in the sink too long. I harp on this everytime the kids are just playing around while brushing or doing dishes and letting the water flow. Or taking 20 minute showers as my almost 13-year old suddenly likes to do. I'm also a recycler so I hate seeing wasted recycleable plastic or cardboard just thrown out. Use the big green garbage cans people! We only have one Earth! Hehe, I know that sounds so granola-y but I worry about it.

I am cranky about leftover or wasted food as well. Buying combo meals for all three of us with giant drinks and then the fries or the drinks don't get finished. Or making a dinner and my 8-year old only eats a few bites. Ordering adult meals for my pre-teen that she can't finish but she claims she's starving if she gets a kids meal. Even throwing out half a bowl of milk when they've finished all the cereal. Drink the damn milk, it's the healthiest part of your Lucky Charms!

I know none of this is huge dollars lost but my money worries direct my behavior on the subject. I keep my checkbook balanced for the most part. I used to do the computer Quicken but got bored keeping up with it so now I just watch my checkbook weekly. I am a bit obsessed with not getting to a zero balance. I always think I'm going to run out. I never do. In fact my checkbook is usually under my actual bank balance even counting all uncleared checks and debits. I made a math mistake in there somewhere and haven't corrected it so I have a cushion. Mind games, yes, but I sleep better knowing I'm covered. My worry has pushed me to have college funds, and IRAs and savings. I'm responsible with my money because its all mine and the two other little souls depending on me. That's not a bad thing I know, but its a lot for one person to keep up with.

Oh and I also worry for those people in my life who DON'T worry. Those annoying clueless people who walk around in a fog assuming everything gets done without their help. I only have a few of these around (a couple are my kids at times) but if I didn't worry about them, no one would and that's not okay, right?

Why must I write about all my worries? Not to dump them on others, but to get them out of my head into writing so they are not so scary. I could worry MORE about the cancer coming back, or not being here for my kids someday, or my aging parents going downhill before my eyes, or my boyfriend not making the big move to be with me, but I toss up protective blocks in my head for these larger troubles to make sure I have enough time to handle all my little worries. I don't want to shut down completely for gosh's sakes. I must function.

I think I have always been this way in some respects so I can't change now. Is it good for me? Probably not. But if I can't change it then why worry about it?

Ok, NOW I feel better...

The Devil Who Lurks Among Us

Frustration running deep with me lately. Mean people still suck. Nice people around me are being manipulated and pushed around by mean people. I am watching nice people get hurt and made to feel powerless. I also am upset with the legal system which is helping to push around these nice people. Bad things are happening to good people. Its sick.

It isn't happening directly to me thank God, but these nice people are dear to me and other careless evil people who must have no faith or fear of God are relentless and trying to tear my nice-people friends down.

How do they sleep at night? What do they say to themselves as they lie in bed in the quiet dark? Good job! That'll teach her/him! I am justified in my behavior today. I am proud of myself! Nighty-night.

How do people become this way? What pain and suffering do they blame for their pitiful lives and how they are living them? They must have never been taught right from wrong, or they grew up learning that hurting others to help oneself is acceptable behavior. Did they have role models who took target practice at other weaker people around them? I imagine that at some point they said, "Fuck It" and decided they were looking out for #1, at all costs.

And these mean people I know have involved their children in their ugly lives. The kids are either disgusted by their parents' behaviors and its causing a rift, or they are learning how to be mean to people THEY know. Either way it's creating more awfulness.

You would think the mean people would eventually get what's coming to them. Karma anyone? But it seems if you learn to lie convincingly, you can convince law enforcement and the courts system to believe your lies and to mistrust the good people. The legal system lets both sides talk and whomever is the least nervous or anxious or upset probably comes across more in control and cool, and a judge can choose to believe that person, the closet asshole, over the good person who sits stunned they are in a courtroom defending their every innocent action.

Good people aren't good liars! Nice people go through life doing the best they can with what is laid before them and never have time or the idea to cover up, or cheat, or lie to get ahead. Good people believe in God or answering to a higher power. They have fear of screwing up and breaking rules and try not to do anything to hurt others. When someone accuses them of doing wrong a good person is blindsided and in shock. They don't immediately go into thinking up their excuses or legal strategies because they are still trying to figure out what went wrong.

I've lost faith in basic humanity lately watching good people be dragged down to the level of these other evil souls. I'm damn sick of it. Something good needs to happen for these people.

With all my angst, I still have faith enough to pray for the good guys. That's because I count myself as one of them.

Someone Like You...sing it Adele

I had a future I thought I wanted and it turns out it didn't want me. Now someone else is getting that future. I think she doesn't know I had it first, but then that's the great thing about starting over. A person can reinvent himself and tell only the stories to the next person that sheds him in a favorable light. Its a bit of a snowjob, but we all do it. Why would anyone tell a new love how shitty the last person thought they were?

Romeo is getting married. In a month from now. Our last personal contact was this past February at the gym, where we talked briefly and very superficially about generic stuff. Before that it had been almost a year since I'd seen him. Almost a year since we'd had any contact at all.

In that year I spent a lot of time wondering what went wrong with us. Feeling anger that he failed me. Feeling stupid that I took longer than him to get over us. I wrote then about it hitting me suddenly on our last dinner out together that he wasn't into me anymore. That was just in March of 2010. And now, a year and a half later, he's ready to MARRY someone.

To refresh anyone's memory who forgot the Romeo-and-me story, we dated for three years. In that last year it became increasingly obvious (although not fast enough) that he wasn't digging my lifestyle-- kids, dogs, suburbs, lack of wanting babies, etc. He never came out and told me this, but I was unhappy a lot of the time with his unwillingness to bend in any way toward anything in my life. I had to be the one to verbalize all the mismatches happening between us and basically walk away when he couldn't come up with a good excuse or promise to compromise. He let me shut the door, but he was all but out of it already.

I'm quite sure he's left that bit of shameful behavior out of his retelling of his "ex" story to his new fiancee. If she even knows there was an "ex" or to what extent there was one. How DO you explain you've only been broken up with your ex for a few months when you meet the love of your life? In the information I've gleaned from friends, he met her during or shortly after our last few encounters. I believe now that he told me about her in a last phone conversation and email, and painted it as if it was a very new, but exciting beginning with a great woman.

Who tells something like that to their very recently broken-up with ex girlfriend?

I labeled him "Romeo" in a sarcastic and ironic vein...he's not the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to women. I now think he really believed we were "friends" by then and I would be happy at his news.

No happier then than I am now to hear that by this past February, only one year after our ski trip together, he was asking for her hand in marriage. Atop a ski slope he and I had skied together several times. Uh, yeah.

It was like he paused the video, photoshopped me OUT, and inserted her into the picture, then hit "play" again. She has a similar education level as me, similar age, similar physical features. How lucky for him that he found this specimen, and she'd never been married and had no pesky children to deal with!! What a lucky guy he is!

Hearing this news has brought back my anger. Lil bit. If he knew in ONE year she was the one he'd like to grow old with, then he knew in our first year that I was NOT. He's no spring chicken and if it felt right he probably thought he'd better jump on it, especially if he wants those perfect children he claimed he'd might like to have. He's gotta get crackin'.

But think, if he'd cut me loose earlier, he'd already have multiple OCD, anal-retentive, seen-but-not-heard little robots sitting mute in a corner by now. Tsk, tsk (or tick-tock) he shoulda thought of that.

Bitter much?

I am blessed this is not me getting engaged on a mountain and married in a church across town. Oh wait, I wouldn't be getting married in a church because I'm divorced. Whew, his sweet Catholic parents dodged a bullet there! I bet they are so happy with the new girl...what's her name again?

I am eternally grateful that I figured him out and cut him loose in time for him to meet this reportedly lovely (yet clueless) woman, and that I was able to find a REAL man who values me as a woman, a friend, AND a mother. He accepts me for what I am RIGHT NOW. Flaws and baggage and all.

No, I'm not ready to jump into marriage even though I know I have a great relationship that is just at a year old. Because I live in the real world and would like to enjoy this time where we still are learning and still are loving what we are learning about each other. I don't feel the need to latch on to a marrige certificate just yet and neither does Sinatra. So much of our lives are on the same page. I'm not trying to change my life to fit into his and although his life will be changing to be near me, he will still have his own journey to begin before we decide to merge. Merge, not marriage...but it could come.

It feels nice to not have to worry about it for now. I feel more real with him than I've ever felt with anyone. If I'd gotten my way a few years ago, nothing would be real anymore. This little bump in the road of dealing with the fact I wasn't chosen by someone who wasn't "the one" will fade away soon, and I won't be wasting any more time.

I'm in my happy place, where I belong.

Up Next-- Phase 3 of Whipping Cancer's Ass

Diagnosis- Check.

Hysteria- Check.

Surgery- Check.

'Nother Surgery- Check.

Radiation- Check!

Yep, I rang the bell!

After surgery and radiation the third part of treatment for DCIS is hormone therapy. Pills. For 5 years. They call it "insurance". Reducing my estrogen and progesterone levels since they were tested as positive receptors, meaning my levels are prone to creating cancer cells.

Well, I have some thoughts on hormone therapy changing my body. I've had these hormone levels for over 40 years and I think they have made me competitive, strong, and healthy, as in not apt to getting common illnesses (other than cancer). I was able to conceive my children without effort and recovered after their births quickly. I have a healthy mental state and don't flucuate moods very often.

Now I do admit my hormones may have snuck in some not so nice attributes too. Wicked PMS and periods in the past (but not since my second was born and I got an IUD), quick-to-anger at times (road rage anyone?), and bloating and water-retention at the even mention of salt or heat.

Hormone of choice: Tamoxifen. I'm still learning about the side effects of Tamoxifen, which is most commonly prescribed for premenopausal breast cancer patients:

Bone pain, constipation, coughing, hot flashes, muscle pain, nausea, tiredness, vaginal discharge, weight loss

Ok, the only thing in that list that I light up at is "weight loss". Awesome! But knowing my bloating tendencies, I'll gain. Yep, that will be me. I have read many patient reviews on several websites and no one mentions having lost weight, on the contrary, most have said they'd gained weight, and almost all said they were generally miserable on the meds. Headaches, leg cramps, day and night sweats were most often mentioned. Not my idea of tolerable side effects. We are talking quality of life here.

There is an increased incidence of uterine cancer with Tamoxifen. Geez Louise, that terrifies me. Reduce breast cancer recurrence, increase uterine cancer chances. How do I make that choice? This doesn't feel like insurance. Now we are talking fighting for life here.

So I keep searching. I am a believer in alternative medicine, like herbs, and in finding healthy foods that cause similar body reactions to the meds, but from the natural benefits of vegetables and fruits and beans and grains. I have been to a Chinese doctor for acupuncture in the past for knee pain, and am not afraid to go again. He prescribes little bottles of strange-smelling tablets based on your medical needs. I am not sure if trying this first wouldn't be a good idea.

I feel I need take a few weeks to get my normal energy back on track, and the extra few pounds that have crept on since radiation gone, and then I will open a new can of worms and begin whatever medication I decide to use. To protect myself for the many years of life I have left while I enjoy activities with my children and a relationship with my boyfriend and keeping up my workouts with my friends.

If my lifestyle changes so that I lose my favorite things in life, which are directly tied to my stamina and personality, then I've already lost the battle.

I realize breast cancer should change your life in some ways, but I am not convinced prescription medication is the way to go for now. I want my life back. The one I had before all of this. I'll go to the doctor check-ups and do the mammograms religiously and even watch what I eat and drink. But I need more convincing on the pharmaceutical aspect of my plan.

Traveling with the Good-Time Club....Priceless Memories

And now a break from our regularly scheduled cancer update...

Vacation time! I have been so lucky in the last years to have some great travel companions and to have gone to some spectacular spots. I decided somewhere in my late 30s, after my kids have gotten older and I finally settled into my divorce-status, I was going to see new places.

All through my marriage our only outings were to local waterparks or pools or to places my ex would play softball, and those were only within driving distance. Lafayette, Louisiana may have been balmy, but not in a good way. Most of the time I just opted to stay home with the kids to save money or out of lack of interest in watching yet another hot, sweaty softball game where the beer-drinking was more a priority than the game.

I hit age 36 and off I went. Those first few years were ski trips where I witnessed the beautiful outdoors in a new way, from the top of grand mountains with nature as far as the eye could see. After living a lifetime in mostly flat Texas, I could not get enough. I have been lucky enough to ski in most of the western states.

These trips have allowed me to meet some really fun new people, who appreciate the beauty afforded by skiing as much as I do. And I've reconnected with old friends from high school (thanks again Facebook) and found our love of travel and fun has brought us to new levels of friendship we never knew back in our schooldays.

I have also been lucky to have skied with friends who were either on my ski level or patient enough to help me improve. Now I feel I could keep up with most skiers on most slopes. This past winter in Tahoe and Taos I had the best group of same-level, slope-hungry skiers who tirelessly jumped on the lifts as they opened and skied until closing time without complaint. Even my kids have become happy little ski bunnies who loved every minute of our spring break trip.

I was able to join some of my favorite work people on trips to Vegas and Costa Rica, as well as other random US cities for conferences. Secretly my boss joins us only when he gets a really good mix of co-workers together to do some of our best trips. For it being "a work thing" I've found my Happy Place several times along the way.

My most recent trip to Mexico was a blessing bestowed on me by my boyfriend Sinatra, during this summer of many not-so-great surprises. Playa Del Carmen was a paradise I didn't know existed until now, and I'm hooked for life. He got us set up in style at the all-inclusive Royal-Playa Resort and I felt very royal indeed. Again we were with our high school buddies, so our common history and our similar adult lives gave way to much teasing, inside jokes and general happy fun. No one drank too much (we've all learned this lesson by now) or got too much sun (as 40+ year olds, we are smart about this too) or shied away from any activities. It was THE BEST TIME.

Now my loving Sinatra and I have an exclusive club of tried-and-true traveling partners who will be the first ones we call when we need a few days off to visit sand or snow. As we age I don't see us adding museums or ruins to our trips, I just know we are a different kind of traveler-- we must see AND do. The only thing that may change is how often we'll go.

Treatments and Life Goes On

Day 20 of radiation is tomorrow. My treated skin is no longer tender! It's downright raw. And red. And getting angrier. Not good. Fatigue is becoming more obvious, but I still have managed to get in a few workouts since I have a triathlon this Sunday. It will be my last of the year most likely and I'm mainly doing it to participate with and support my running group, who are all doing the race as well. They are a fun bunch and are very supportive of me. Wouldn't bother going for just anyone.

The girls have been busy with friends all week and are letting me have some rest time. That would be my children, those girls who are enjoying their summer. My other two girls, the dogs, have no interest whatsoever in letting me rest. They demand their walks no matter how tired I am. They choose not to notice I'm laying on the couch with heavy eyelids. So off we go. When I try to turn back toward the house and its at a point shorter than the day before, they resist. Damn them for being so smart.


I am glad for this blog because people ask me "How are you doing?" but I find it hard to explain how I am. I wonder do they really want the answer? Are they just asking to be polite? Its kinda boring to say I'm tired and irritated, so I just say "I'm doing fine".

This isn't the worst thing I could go through. Chemo is MUCH worse but I know brave souls who've made it through that. I have a new friend who I met through her brother who's in my running group who just finished chemo and now will start radiation. All this after a mastectomy. I have another friend who's 2 year old daughter has a degenerative disease and is in constant danger of even a headcold being fatal. She is equally amazing.

I'm just going in for a 2 minute treatment for 33 days. Nothing really to complain about. I am grateful for that. Now I'll just wait for the end of treatment and get back to REALLY being "fine".

Day 10 of Radiation...23 to go.

10 Days in and I'm plowing through this Thing. I have swelling and a dull ache on that side, which is weird, but not unlike how your breasts change when you are pregnant, only this is on only one of them. The fatigue is creeping up too, again like an early pregnancy. Unlike pregnancy, I'm not building milk to cause these symptoms, but the ducts are being irradiated to prevent the bad stuff from getting together and growing into more breast cancer.

I'm releasing myself to it when I can, the fatigue. I have a hard time laying around, my lifestyle has never supported it. Luckily, it's summer. Its 100 degrees outside until 8pm. We have no after-work obligations. This all lends itself to coming home from work and laying down. I don't usually sleep, but I veg. The kids have waited all day for me to get home, but they are stir-crazy enough inside all day that they burst outside to play with their friends. And then, I have peace. I rest, they play, and then I get up and do something about dinner or walk the dogs with them. Its working out.

The radiation procedure is fast. Putting on my gown before and getting dressed after are 5 times longer than the radiation itself. I lay on the table, they move me around to line up with the markings on my ribs and chest and start the machine. It moves around and hovers from side to side of me and in about 2 minutes its done. I grab my coffee from the waiting room on the way out and I'm off to work.

I have to do this because it is a step in my recovery and I am serious about beating breast cancer. I have to do it whether the laundry needs done, or the dogs need walked, or the kids are fighting, or my patients at work must come into the office RIGHT NOW, or I need a workout to get ready for a race.

I make time for all of it, because all of it is important.

Oncology 101

Sitting in the oncologist's office waiting room, I'm trying to think of it as any other doctor's appointment and just trying to read my book, but I can't stop looking at the others in the waiting room. I read the same sentence 8 times and didn't know what I'd read. I was emotional just sitting there among the other cancer patients.

They are mostly older, as in over 65, and they seem frail, and shuffle in and sit down with effort. One carrying a black bag over his shoulder; I've seen these before, and my assumption is they are chemo bags, although I have no clue as to how they work.

The receptionist knows them all by name. This is not their first appointment like it is mine.

As the "young one", I feel out of place. Almost an intruder. I'm not sick. I don't shuffle. My scar is hidden and small and healed. I am still strong and plan on staying that way.

The side door opens and a man walks out followed by several nurses and a few doctors, who are watching him. He is looking for something and they direct him to a plaque on the wall. He reads it out loud but to himself, quickly, so I can't hear what he says. Below the plaque is a large brass bell. He finishes reading and reaches down and rings the bell. Its really loud and then all the staff start to clap. I stare. I can tell the others around me in the waiting room understand what just happened. Then I know too. He's finished. His treatment is done. He happily leaves the office with a "see you in two weeks" to the receptionist.

This will be the first stop of my day for 33 treatments over 6 weeks. Every weekday I will come here first thing, undress and lay in a machine which will send a powerful xray over my left breast to irradiate any fiesty cancer cells which may be trying to expose themselves. After 10 minutes or so I will get dressed and go to work. The only evidence left behind are the 4 tiny dots they tattooed (instead of Sharpied which they said would wash off if I sweated or swam- uh no way) on my chest. These dots tell the machine where to line up every day. The skin will get irritated and dry and I must doctor it with lotion to keep it comfortable.

They are all very nice there in Oncology. The nurses I met were funny and matter-of-fact at the same time. They see lots of newbies like me. Its not just for women or breast cancer, this office sees all kinds of cancer. I got looks from those elderly like "poor thing". Not sure if that was because of my age or because I looked nervous. Or clueless.

Soon I'll look like I know what I'm doing. Soon that receptionist will know my name and I guess I will know hers. I will be there, get my treatments, live my life, and then ring the bell and move on.

The Case of the Disappearing Cancer....

On May 6th I went to surgery for the biopsy to remove a piece of tissue to test for cancer after seeing microcalcifications on my mammogram. The call comes May 10th from the surgeon, yes there was cancer in the sample. Several appointments and tests later we determine the surgeon must go back in and scrape out some more tissue to check for any other cancer cells.

Side note: I have to mention, the first go at it showed up on a bill for $18,000? But the Blue Cross "adjustment" was $16,000, and insurance paid almost $1700, so my part is a little over $300. Is that crazy or what? Anyway, that's a different topic I'm not willing to delve into. More bills are coming to amaze me further I'm sure.

ANYWAY, so as of May 10th, I'm thinking I'm still carrying around cancer and they are going back in to get it out. June 2nd I go under the knife again. I was told they were gonna go where the last sample was and take more, especially on the side where the cancer cells were centered the most. Great. Go for it.

Today I finally talk to the doctor about what was found on the sample this time. He tells me it's clear. As in, no cancer in the tissue tested. Say what? He explained the first surgery most likely got it all out and even if there were tiny pieces left (it was all tiny to begin with) my healing process causes new healthy scar tissue to form in the area which can pretty much kill off anything left there. It happens often.

Ok, how do I feel about this? I had cancer for an unknown number of months, but didn't know it. Then by the time I knew it, I didn't have it anymore. Strange.

Radiation is still recommended. Why? I don't have it anymore, right? Well, the doctors don't want to say I'm absolutely clear because they were only digging around in one area that they could see on the mammogram, but who knows if some random cancer cells aren't still floating around all by themselves and just haven't joined up to others to make a noticeable group. Radiation is my insurance.





Then I wonder how women with more advanced stages do this. How do they feel when they are told they have Stage 2 or 3 or maybe 4 breast cancer and then they have a mastectomy. The surgeon told me the only way they know all the cancer is gone is a mastectomy. Because my cancer was so small and confined it wasn't necessary but some women do it anyway, even with my DCIS. Just so they don't have to worry every time they go for a mammogram. So those women get the mastectomy and their cancer is gone. All that build up with the fear and the thinking it could KILL them and then it's gone. Now they don't have breast cancer. And everyone calls them a Survivor.

The cancer was cut out and now I'm a Survivor? Runs and walks and donations are celebrated for breast cancer research and supposedly I'm an insider because for a few weeks I thought I had cancer? I don't know about those other women, but that makes me feel weird. I feel unworthy of it all.

I am truly in awe of the ladies who have the mastectomies and then chemo. I don't know much about breast cancer chemo (hopefully I won't have to) but I assume that chemo is their insurance. They are told the mastectomy took it all. But now they must flush with chemo meds to get all the other pathways their more advanced cancer had possibly reached. Insurance.

I still have several doctor appointments to find out more about the next steps for me. I've had a lot of exposure to this disease in a very short time. I will need to process these last few months and accept that this happened and now I've done what I can to take care of it.

When the radiation is done and I get through the next mammogram and it is whatever it is and I move on to the next one, I hope to be more comfortable with it all, and then maybe, feel like a real Breast Cancer Survivor.

Is The Red Tent Coming or What?

Oh lawd, I think Lil Lady's pre-menstral...are you kidding me? Either my oldest is about to get her period, or something else is making her act like a real turd lately. I'm not ready for this. Turn back the clock, I'm not equipped to handle a teenager yet.

Lil Lady and Chillgirl both have been at each others' throats and awful in general, but especially at bedtime. I know they are 8 and 12 and not 2 and 6 years old, but they are resistent to actually turning off the tvs and lights and laying down without wanting a snack, or my attention, or to mess with each other at their freaking bedtimes...its ridiculous that this most basic rule in my house has lately been broken so carelessly.

Most nights Chillgirl is lights out by 9:30pm, so exhausted she's out within minutes. Last few nights she was restless and up and down and wanting to come sleep with me, which is a BIG no-no, I don't care how cute she is. She already comes in nightly at 4-5am and crawls in while I'm comatose so I have a strict no-sleeping-with-mom-while-mom-is-aware policy and she pushed me the other night into yelling at her to go to her room and she began wailing at the top of her lungs until I had to close the door to ignore it. This is after 10pm it was still going on.

The very next night my pre-teen Lil Lady revolts at 10pm when I tell her lights out, yelling she wants to watch just a little more of her show. I'm adamant its already late, no way, lights out. She begins to wail and Chillgirl wakes up and starts her crap again and I'm again in my room with the door locked as to not kill them both.

Both girls assured me it wouldn't happen again when I told them they needed punishment and they sweet-talked me into getting to play outside for an hour while I ran. Call me Sucker Mom, but when they're good, they're really sweet and good and I fall for it every time.

But I did tell Lil Lady if she didn't shape up that night and the next morning (her attitude's been rude and borderline homicidal most days in general) she would NOT go to her friends' parties this holiday weekend. Told her she's on thin ice and she would NOT get to go. That night they played and came in and got ready for bed. Chillgirl's in her bed like she should be then 20 mins later its LL's turn but she started arguing how CG didn't go to bed exactly ontime and she shouldn't have to either. Told her she already had one bad night, she better just get in bed and not argue. More snotty comments and jabs later she's in bed and I'm in my room.

I hear CG moaning "Mom, she turned out the bathroom light!". I yell, "Go turn it back on"...I am NOT getting up for this BS...(sidenote: CG sleeps directly in front of the bathroom and wants the light on until she falls asleep, LL's room is to the side so the light isn't even on her directly and after CG is asleep she's allowed to turn it off)...

This is exhausting for me to write, so I know you are wiped out reading it...basically CG gets up and turns it on, LL gets up and turns it off. They are yelling to me each other is doing this and I tell them if I hear another word about it, I'll be in there to ground them both. So next I hear puh-puh-puh, footsteps, then door open, the puh-puh-puh, door close, and back and forth...on and on. Then they are silently fighting over having the bathroom door open or almost closed with the light on inside. Now it is past 10:30pm.

My blood is boiling....literally I can feel it rising, as in my blood pressure. I'm sitting there thinking, really girls? I REALLY don't want to ground you, but you REALLY are not leaving me a choice. REALLY I'd rather you just go to sleep and I can pretend you did it on time and not an hour later after passive-aggressively terrorizing each other. REALLY. Can you just STOP? I'm saying this to myself and getting more and more pissed because they are still messing with each other in there.

OK, no choice. I get up, and WAR ensues. I'm yelling, they're yelling blaming each other, and everyone's grounded. The dogs may even be grounded, I'm not sure. Friday night festivities GONE and threats of adding Saturday plans to the list of cancellations. Crying all around. Somewhere before midnight I turn off my light with sobs still echoing through the house. Put the lid on that day, I'm DONE.

The next morning there are I'm sorry's and please don't ground me's and I remember saying something to the effect of "I don't negotiate with terrorists". Pouts and sneers from Lil Lady go down swell with my morning coffee. She can't believe I won't let her go to the slumber party. I'm the meanest Mom ever. I am hateful and evil. At least Chillgirl has the common decency to stop while she's ahead and accept her punishment, but Lil Lady is relentless.

But I stand my ground. I will not be conquered. Its two against one but I'm still the Enforcer.

When puberty hits both girls full-force I will probably be close to menopause. Lord help us all.

Dammit...I have breast cancer.

That's how I feel about it. Cancer. Dammit. I couldn't really fathom what it feels like to know you have cancer so it was easy to decide I didn't. But when my doctor called me at 6:30pm on a Wednesday and left me a message to call him back, on his private number, I knew my world was about to change.

DCIS~ Ductal Carcinoma In Situ. It's the 4th one down on the picture. Only identifiable on a mammogram as those omnious white dots, or microcalcifications. I would never have known it without the mammo screening. As far as we know right now, it's within the milk ducts and contained only there. This is good. My doc says it's "the best kind of breast cancer to have"...I know, that's a strange thing to say, right? I read that DCIS is called Stage 0 breast cancer. That's reassuring to me.

Once identified as which ducts to remove, they are excised by lumpectomy (even though there is no lump really) and radiation over a number of weeks takes care of any remnants. That could be a pain in the butt, but it reduces my risk of reoccurence from 30% without radiation to less than 15% with it. I'll take the x-ray beam at my chest for 6 weeks for those odds.

So I have a handle on what I have and how we usually treat it. I am still having tests to see if there are any other surprises. An MRI today to look at the whole chest. Hoping that shows a normal result except for the expected diagnosed area. Hormone tests should show if I need ongoing hormone therapy, which my doctor thinks I will need for the next 5 years or so. Soon the surgery will be scheduled and I can get this show on the road.

Aside from normal worries about reoccurance and pain and suffering, I'm bummed this will change my summer plans. With my girls, with my cycling and tri buddies, with my boyfriend and the beach trip we wanted to take. It's a huge unknown at this point and anyone who knows me, knows I'm not good with plans up in the air. But for once, the not-knowing is a bit more attractive than the knowing. I'm assuming I know how this will play out but Bad Luck or Karma or whatever you wanna call it may reach It's mighty hand in and yank the rug out from under me again.

I pray I will be ready, and strong enough to charge ahead, and kick this thing in its Ass.

I am not alone...deal with it.

I have found myself in a really vunerable position recently and I'm not loving it. The calcification spots were back on my latest mammogram and the docs want to take a bigger chunk of my breast tissue to make sure they are still benign, like the slivers were they took 6 months ago.

Last summer I went through the first biopsy alone because I was awake the whole time, and even with bleeding from a hematoma after the procedure I went to the pharmacy to get supplies for doctoring the small incision, alone. I took care of my kids alone that night and got up alone the next morning and went to work.

This time I went to the follow-up mammogram alone, I went to the surgeon consult alone, and made the appointment for the new biopsy, alone. But I can't go to the biopsy alone this time. I will be under general anesthesia and of course I cannot drive home.

I hate anesthesia. Every time in my life I've had it I wake up nauseous and vomit. I'd rather be awake letting them talk to me while they poke and prod than go through the fuzzy, disoriented, sick effects of anesthesia. But my doctor said I'll be under. Pooey.

I'm set for the procedure on a Friday, so I have the weekend to recover. I'm not broadcasting on Facebook I'm having this done but the few people who know, thankfully want to help. Take me in the morning, bring me home, help with the kids and get dinner ready.

My only issue is I'm fiercely stubborn about showing weakness and asking for help. I seriously will probably just want to be left alone. If the anesthesia is making me sick, I will not want someone there to witness that. If I'm swollen or bruised I will want to crawl into bed and sleep it off.

I won't be down long either. I have a committment with one of the kids the next day, and will need to be up and making sure it all goes well. So in the interest of getting things done and not wearing myself out totally, I will have to let go of the reins with that and allow for my family to help.

I'm keeping positive about the biopsy results, since last time they were negative. So my stress with this day will be my physical condition after and my ability to deal with all the friendly help.

I'm used to being the boss-lady. So if I'm a bit crabby, don't hold it against me. And if I'm saying I'm fine, and asking if you can please just get out...

Get out.

Mean People Suck

I don't plan on being a bitter old lady. I won't live a full life only to be one of those cranky biddies who go around with a chip on my shoulder, looking to make others miserable. I have always adhered to the Golden Rule. It seems many people skipped Sunday School when they taught this rule. Tacks in the teacher's chair, laughing at the kid with the lisp, dreaming up evil ways to make an ex suffer... no, these things don't entertain me. But as a seasoned 40+ year old, I now accept the fact that some people are just plain ole MEAN.

I heard of a friend who is out of work, but his ex-wife wants to up the child support he's still paying her even though she's remarried and what he's paying for his one child is more than I get for my two.

I get to drive with idiots on Mopac who speed up to prevent me from merging or changing lanes and I've been saluted with the middle finger more than once for just trying to myself to work in one piece.

I know noncustodial parents who opt out of their weekend nights with their kids to party instead.

I have coworkers who don't try at all to provide the customer service that I feel is the bare minimum of our job description.

I've had customers who's goal for the day is to Make the Audiologist Cry. Not really because I wouldn't cry about work stuff, but you'd think these folks would laugh in my face if I did.

Does this kind of behavior serve some purpose? Do these people go to sleep with a clear conscience? Do they ever sit quietly at some point in their day and think that maybe they behaved badly? They may have been brought up without a higher being to answer possibly. Or with spiteful parents who showed them how to step on other people to make themselves feel better. How sad.

No matter. I can ignore these people and live my life with a clear mind and heart and try to make others smile.

And besides, I believe in KARMA. And she's a bitch.

Today, Right Now, I Love My Kids

Happiness is watching my two girls watching themselves on a VHS video filmed when they were 4 years and 6 months. They were so joyful and so loving with each other. Lil Lady was dancing and talking to me and trying to steal the show, and Chillgirl was quietly watching nearby, barely old enough to hold her little chubby body sitting up. Roles have not really reversed although now at age 8, Chillgirl will step up and defend herself when she really needs to be heard. That may make pre-teen LL yell louder, but we are kinda a yell-y family anyway. We all love each other and the shouting is three little women full of passion and strength as far as I'm concerned.

Lil Lady is growing up. I catch glimpses of her as she's doing her homework at her desk or gathering her things to go to the bus stop and she looks like a full-grown teenager. But then she'll be playing with her sister and younger kids and I breathe a sigh of relief that she's not in any rush. So far, she's somewhere in the middle of cultivating her teen attitude and holding tight to her Barbies and Build-A-Bears. Recently she was pointing out some boys before watching her middle school play: "I have crushes on him... and him... but my bff is going with that one until the end of the play and then she is breaking up with him. The other one says he isn't dating until 7th grade". It gave me major junior high flashbacks to hear her talk like that.



Chillgirl is my mini-me. She's got a competitive drive, walking around the house bumping a volleyball up and down. She's ready for a few more triathlons this summer and told me recently she wanted to eat what I eat, so she can be strong like me. I forever tout the need for healthy eating and getting the right nutrients like fiber and protein, and she knows the reasons behind it. I will have a lot in common with her as she gets older. This is nice because I have always been a bit of a blacksheep in my family when it comes to my sports activities.

So I have Artsy Spice and Sporty Spice. These are two sides of me and I am happy they are each happy with an outlet that I can be a part of. I'm a lucky Mom.

This 40+ year old's Take on Feast and Famine

I've been inspired by some other weight-loss blogs I read to talk a bit about how I as an over 40 year old view my own health and weight issues. I go about my days and nights quietly but constantly conscious of how much I've eaten for the day, how much I moved during the day, and how much I'll weigh on the scale the next morning.

As I lay here tonight with a growly stomach, I am at peace with the hollow noises buzzing around inside my intestines. It has taken a few days of not eating anything but water past 8pm to get comfortable with this feeling, but I know it is okay to feel it. The growlies don't mean my body is starving. I'd like to think they are sounds of my body processing my food from dinner, and settling a score with the juices and gases found in the nooks and crannies of my innards. It is nourishment finding a place to lay down for the night. Was that gross? Sorry.



This go around, I have been watching my food intake carefully for the last 5 days. My current plan is low-carb. That means stopping all my favorite comfort foods like breads, cereals (seriously I'm obsessed with a full cereal bowl, with milk and fruit mixed in), pasta, crackers (another obsession), and sugary sweets. I've done this plan many times before and it always works. Always. IF I stick to it. I really can't even eat fruit or have milk or other semi-sweet veggies like carrots or tomatoes. The sugar in them ruins the whole plan.

So 2 weeks of this will kill my carb-addiction (its a real thing, google it) and I won't be craving it anymore. Most low-carb plans instruct to re-introduce healthy carbs, like wheats and grains, back in after that time period. I may or may not, depending on the weight loss.

So I eat veggies, eggs, cheese, any meats or fish, and nuts. This time I've even added tofu, mushrooms, and bacon. I forgot how much I love bacon. But to eat even a little sugar or pasta or breads negates the plan and then I am just eating fatty foods with carbs and the weight will add ON. It WILL. So right now I am loving eating the full-fat meats and cheeses, and I will sacrifice the carbie stuff for now. But damn I miss those Wheat Thins!



There are many types of diets with no-carbs or low-carbs. Anyone can find one they can live with. Me, I've never been able to do a NO-carb diet, but found that low-carb plans, some even with a cheating period of time per day (see the Drs Heller Carbohydrate Addicts Diet), is doable for me. I can restrict only up to a point.

On the other side of the healthy coin, my working-out has saved me. It is the only reason my crazy diet changes over the years haven't ended up with me weighing 200 lbs. I know this because I weighed 200 lbs (+!) with both of my pregnancies and it was YES, because of what I was eating, but ALSO because I stopped exercising. Plain and simple. My chunky-monkey body MUST have exercise or else it will balloon out. I call my body chunky because it is. I know I will always have curves and I will always have muscles. At my thinnest, in high school, I had both and even though I thought I wasn't skinny enough, in pictures I was an adorable size. That was about 30 lbs lighter than I am now. Thirty pounds! Damn this aging. Not cool.

I get bored easily so I am a triathlete. I can train for a race by running, cycling, or swimming...or swim-cycling, or cycle-running, or swim-running. I sneak my short exercises in whenever I can. Being a single mom with two active girls, I do get creative. In the summer they swim and play at the neighborhood pool and I'm doing laps. I run with Lucy the dog because she needs it too. Sometimes the girls will ride their bikes while I run. I ride on my off weekends when they are with their dad. If I can't I suck it up and get on my bike trainer indoors while I'm watching The Biggest Loser or Top Chef. I get it done. It is part of my life without fail. Even a walk with my iPod keeps my mind centered and my heart pumping. Anyone who is trying to lose weight who doesn't make a workout plan is not going to stay healthy. You can actually still eat some things you like if you make yourself exercise the bad parts of that yummy food away. Bonus!



Anyone who says weight is just a number is not overweight or has given up on a healthy weight. My number is part of my every morning routine. It regulates my mood and my eating patterns. If I ignored it and threw out my scale I could easily convince myself I was doing fine. That my pants must've shrunk in the wash. That I needed new clothes anyway. That there must be something going around making me feel sick. That I just needed to lay down or nap and I'd feel better. I could ignore that number and hope that I will say "enough" when my tummy tells me it's full. I would hope I noticed the button on my pants leaving a mark on my skin. I hope I'd recognize the lethargy and get off the couch to go for a run.



But I choose to look at that number every morning before my shower every day to know I am following the guidelines I've set up for myself. To know if I should bring a salad to work today. To know I should make time to hit the gym tonight. To know I need to get an extra half hour of sleep. It's my body and I don't need it to be at the bottom of my "healthy weight" range, or even in the range, but I've lived with this body for 40 years and I KNOW when it's healthy. The number gives me a concrete standard to adhere to. It is what works for me.

2011...And We're Off!

I just re-read my last post and realized it was all about MEN, past and present.

That's all well and good, but I did have other revelations in the past year and hopefully in this new year that do NOT involved my relationship with a man. Geez-louise, I know I have more going on that that, and so now, dag-nabbit, I'm going to reflect on it.

My work has steadily become more dissatisfying. I'm not sure why this is how I suddenly feel now, but I think I will have to make a change in the coming years. I have put in 16 years with my company and feel I'm doing the same job I've always done for the same rewards and pay and lack of recognition as I have for many of those years, and it isn't fulfilling anymore. 2010 was a difficult year from start to finish. The recession finally caught up with our industry and people are scraping to replace their hearing aids with cheaper models and expecting more free services than ever before. I leave the office feeling used and abused by my clients many days, and do not have enough of the feel-good days in any given month. This sucks but it is a job and it pays the bills and is all I have right now, so I will put up and shut up for now.

I'm not worried, I do have in mind other related jobs I'd like to pursue in the future if money weren't the only issue. I have many contacts in this town and will make sure the right people know my value. It is ok to recognize my grumblings and lay some plans out to help myself down the line. I'm at peace with where I am with this now.

My kids are both in a good place after getting through 2010. Their ages are good for self-sufficiency and independence, but they still both love me and being with me. I know I have only a short time, maybe months, left with Lil Lady being my little girl before she decides Mom is a disease and won't come near me. She is already so sensitive to everything anyone says to her, as if the world is out to get her. This only applies to her immediate family as far as I know. At school things seem to be going well, socially and grades-wise. We argue about homework and studying for tests. She likes to perform with the least possible effort to get a "passing" grade. Aiyiyiyi...who's child is this? Extra Credit was my middle name in school. I loved trying to get the highest grade in class, while she is pretty damn proud of herself when she doesn't get the lowest. We have come a long way in my dealing with this attitude, but I must do better in this new year to not put too much pressure on a child who is perfectly happy being middle of the pack.

Chillgirl seems to be a bit more like me, competitive and willing to put forth more effort to do better. She lamented to me in a sad little voice recently that her teacher never gives her a "blue" on her behavior chart. I said but you always get greens, and green is the best. She said no, blues are even better for extra good behavior. I said what do you have to do to get a blue? She said I don't knooooow, all whiney. I said well you better ask your teacher what you can do to get a blue. She went and did just that. Her schoolwork, although it is only 2nd grade, seems effortless too. She gets good grades on worksheets and she likes to read an age-appropriate chapter book cover to cover to herself and actually come tell me about the story. I'm holding my breath on her, hoping she'll be a "mini-me" and blaze easily through the coming years. I have a feeling I'll need all my efforts and attention saved up for her sister.

The girls get along with each other and know when Momma's had enough and they usually get in line when needed. Being a single parent can really stink sometimes because they know I am tired. They know what things they can wear me down on. I hate giving in but I choose my battles to preserve my sanity. I'd love for them to be sympathetic to my tiredness and give me a break. And of course I worry. I worry about everything with them.

My worry about the kids is normal, I know. All parents worry, right? But I regret putting divorce in their lives and handing them the higher percentage chance of having relationship issues within the future-- distrusting adults, or being unsure about men or marriage. They have limited time with their father and that worries me. It is not my choice that he doesn’t see them as much as he should, but it is my fault for having him move out and divorcing him. That was all me. Saying that, I still try not to hold onto all the blame because he did have fault in our split, but ultimately I bear the responsibility for making my children go through many days not seeing their dad.

They seem to be fine. They are healthy, confident and well-behaved most of the time, and they have friends and good social skills. I am proud of them both, but I will still always be a worrier.

Job, kids…check. And now back to ME. I have spent the last year getting my heart in order and trying to keep myself healthy and happy too. I still have my days when things seem not quite good enough, or I want more and despair at not having a way of getting it NOW, but those days are few and most likely related to some hormonal rollercoaster going on inside of me in conjunction with the current moon-cycle. On the other days, I take advantage of every spare minute to find a mentally clean place to go. Staying involved at Church to remind myself of the importance of my actions and contemplate why we are all here. Taking care of my body with cycling, running, or swimming, either alone or with my tri-buddies-- my go-to choices for a physical release of pent up stress. I enter races or rides to give me that motivational tool and deadline to keep my head in exercise mode. The annual ski vacations and trips to visit family or friends are vital for my sanity. And chiropractic, massage, and hair/nail appointments are the other ways of being nice to me.

I expect to continue on as I have been in this New Year. I don’t know what else I can do. This is the path I have chosen for myself and my girls and we do pretty well. The two of them will lead me in new areas as they grow and have new doors opened for themselves. I am enjoying the stage we are at right now.

I love my little life.