Whaddya Think?

My Mom Got Cancer, And All I Got Was A Stinkin' T-Shirt.

It's in the works. I like it.

Room and Board

I have to send a shout out to my in-laws for putting me up. Or is that putting up with me? Either way, I don't think I could have done this last 2 weeks of craziness without them.

I have officially been away from home for 1 month. That translates into the following:
Bullets!

• Flying into SLC, then driving 6 hours to Vegas the very next day.
• Living out of a suitcase in Vegas for a week. The hottest week of my life, I might add.
• Driving 2 hours to St. George from Vegas, in a car with Utah plates, with and Illinois drivers license, packed with suitcases with 2 kids in addition to my own, and getting a nose bleed at 75 MPH. If I had been pulled over, how fast would I have been sent to jail? Yeah.
  
• Living out of a suitcase for 4 days in a St. George condo. The second hottest 4 days of my life.
  
• Driving to SL from St. George in my dad's sweet new truck. Oh, and the muffler has been, shall we say, altered, so it is about as quiet as a bullhorn on a Sunday afternoon.
  
• Finding out about "the cancer", which seems to have taken on a life of it's own. The longest night of my life.
  
• Spending that first week at my mom's, feeling like my world was crashing down, until Sugar Daddy showed up to rescue me. The best is having a spouse who loves you.
  
• Spending the remaining 2 weeks here, at Hotel de Clayton. Wonderful diggs. But I'm still living out of a suitcase. One thing I have learned from all this is that my needs are simple. My family. A few changes of underwear. Oh, and the internet.
  

And what makes this post even sweeter, is that Sugar Daddy sent me a package today. Would you like to know what was in that package? I'll give you a hint. Best Buy, White, and I'm typing on it as we speak. Yep, a new MacBook. He knows how I likey me blog.

Thanks, honey. And thanks, in-laws. You guys are the best!

Quick, Speedily, Rapid

There are few things in this world that I sincerely love. My family, of course, is number one. The other thing I honestly cannot live without (ha ha) is food. I love food. I love to eat. I love sitting and chatting and laughing and eating. Seriously, it's one of my favorite activities.

But that brings me to tomorrow. Tomorrow I am giving up one of my true loves. Tomorrow we are beginning a fast for my Mom. At 6:00 PM we will open our fast surrounded by friends and loved ones, and of course with a pleading prayer to our Heavenly Father. We all have our own beliefs when it comes to spirituality, and whatever your beliefs are, I ask you to please join us in our fast. Please, do whatever you feel you can, and please do so with a sincere prayer of comfort in your heart. I understand that fasting may be a new concept for you, for whatever reason. You can read a story about it here. Mostly we are just fasting as a way to enhance our receptiveness to the Spirit, and to more fully understand our roles pertaining to my Mom's illness. There may not come a cure, there may not come a vision from Heaven, but there may come the still small voice reassuring us that we are doing what we need to. And that's enough for me.

We will close our fast on Sunday night at 6:00 PM with a prayer of thanks. Feel free to fast the entire 24 hours if you can. If you cannot, just do what you feel you can do, and if you cannot or choose not to fast, please just keep a prayer in your heart. If you'd like to read more about our gospel, and our law of fasting, you can read it here.

What can I say?

I feel like a small comment to the wonderful comments I've received wouldn't be adequate enough to thank all of you that have sent well wishes my way. I am sincerely grateful for every word that has been written on behalf of my mom. You will never know what a difference it makes to my day seeing how many of you that have never even met my mom are so concerned about her. Thank you again, from the entirety of my heart.

And for the record, I hope to be back to my irreverent self soon. Or, as my dad put it, my vile realist self.

The smell of roses

Here I sit, late at night, smelling fresh cut roses. We have dozens of roses throughout our house right now. Doz-ens. You would think some one had just won the Miss America pageant or something. But this is a memory I want to keep forever. The smell of fresh roses permeating my mother's house. It's a smell I always want to associate with her, and the feeling of love and appreciation I have for her. I don't want to seem sappy, and use all the usual stereotypical euphamisms about roses, and thorns, and whatnot, I just want a simple, fresh, beautiful smell to keep her memory in my heart forever. I want the smell to bring to life the wonderful family times we've shared this last few days. The "Elizabeth Smarticle", and "A-Prayer-Ican Idol". The tears of joy and utter devastation that have flowed freely from each and every one of us. I want this wonderful smell to help me to remember my mother, and her way of making even the most upset visitor laugh, and leave her room with a smile on their face, and her imprint on their heart. I vow to always go back to these wonderfully tragic days each and every time I smell a fresh cut rose.

No Words

Hello, blog friends. I'm back for a short stint as a blogger again. Only this time I reappear a different woman. Remember all that mumbo jumbo about a creative renewal, blah blah blah? Yeah, do I have a story for you. I guess you could say I got what I asked for, and much, much more. Lucky me. And for the record, this computer has no spell check, so I apologize in advance.

Where do I begin? Should I get right to it or string you along with the memories that litter my brain of what went on that particular night? String you along, you say? Okay, whatever floats your boat.

Here's what I saw. Father's Day night. Around midnight, in fact. A very full, bright moon. Ants circling the kitchen floor. For some reason my eyes and brain were fixated on those ants. I couldn't tear them away. They just circled and circled, and had not a care in the world. If only I could have felt what those ants felt at that moment, instead of what was about to drop onto my soul. I heard words coming from the other end of the phone. I understood the words, but I didn't, all at the same time. I heard myself saying things like "how big?" and "where is it?" and "how much time?", but the answers didn't register. Honestly, that voice could have told me I'd won the lottery, and it wouldn't have mattered. My life was different. In a flood of nausea and pounding ears, I heard myself scream for my sister. I felt my feet on the floor, but nothing else. I felt my head in my hands, and the cold tile on my soles, and I heard the dog door swing as one of the poodles jumped exitedly through it. But still, I was numb. The details are easy to remember. They are burnt into my memory as fresh as the birth of my children. But it's the words, the reality, the knowing, that are all just feelings. I know I felt a strange sense of calm, and then a subsequent urgency to call my brother and sister to come and be with us, even though it was the middle of the night. We sat outside, smelling the damp summer grass, and hearing the swing squeak as we lightly rocked and reflected on our situation. There were many tears, and surprising bursts of laughter, dotted with bouts of anger and frustration. There was prayer, and more tears, and then finally exhaustion.

This doesn't happen to me. We are not those people. I am not the one whose children will be raised without a grandparent.

But it seems I just may be. And it sucks. I'm pissed. And yet, I'm well aware of a strange chain of small miracles that have been happening over the last year or so to prepare me just for this situation.

I don't understand why She has been chosen to travel this road. I cannot fathom that in the preexistence she would have chosen to leave her family at such a young age. And yet I can. I can't understand that she is fine with it. And for some reason I feel fine with it as long as I'm around her. How is it that she is the one with Pancreatic Cancer with Liver metastises, and she is the one buoying us all up? I know how, it's because She's just that way. She always has been.
She is the caregiver, not the care receiver. And even in her yellow state, she still wants to make sure we know where the money for groceries is, and that she needs a draw for so-and-so at the office. She's just that way.

I'm still numb. I'm still pissed. And I'm still in awe of Her strength and beauty. If anyone can make yellow skin fashionable, it's her. She is wonderful.

I love you , mom.


For an update on what's going on with the cancer situation, please check our new blog, Cancer Sucks, and feel free to comment.

It's not you, it's me.

My dear blog buddies,

As I write you this letter, I am torn inside. I am a broken woman. I understand that sometimes in life we have to do the right thing, and it's not always the easy thing. I only hope you can remember that as I continue.

I am embarking on a journey, of sorts. As I prepare to spend the summer abroad, and by "summer" I mean June, and by "abroad" I mean in Utah, I have a sense of a need for a new perspective. A creative rejuvenation, if you will. A rejuvenation that can only come from a fresh mind. A mind cleared from worldly thought. Okay, not really on that worldly crap, but it sounds good, right?

I guess what I'm saying is I need a break. I don't mean that we should never see each other again, maybe just take a step back to reevaluate our relationship. Get our heads on straight, and find out what we really want out of our times together.

Sometimes a fresh perspective is just what is needed for a relationship to blossom. So I'll return in July for posting anew. Please, keep strong, and remember who you are and what you want out of life. Don't be surprised if there is a quick pop-in visit here and there, just to keep tabs and make sure we're still on track, but don't plan on anything substantial.

I wish you the best while I am away, and know that I will always love you, no matter what. If all else fails, we can still be friends.

Sincerely,
Keli.

Just You Watch

I'm bypassing Friday Fun in favor of Just You Watch.

Tornado Watch.

I don't like this. At.All.

And Sugar Daddy will be on the YM's camp out tonight. Which leaves me all alone, under a Tornado watch.

Did I mention I don't like this? At.All.

Re-Use

Remember these? Here's what they've become. A pretty good use of them, I think.


They are currently hanging in my laundry/mud room, and hold all the things that used to hang on my fridge. School notes and menu, VT route, the latest book report criteria, etc.



And look at this beauty I picked up yesterday. It is now hanging in the toy room. I absolutely love the colors, and of course the circles. For some reason I'm drawn to things with circles. I'll post about that another day. But take a guess at how much this baby cost me. Go on, guess.


*and after posting this, I realized the new bulletin board picture is upside down. Just use your imagination, cause I'm not going back in to fix it.

Grapes and Disney

My kids are kind of addicted to a couple of things.

Grapes.

Red.

Seedless.

They will eat a pound or two in a day. It makes for an interesting time finding a bathroom in random places, if you know what I mean.



And they are also addicted to the Disney Channel. I think I have seen every episode of Zack and Cody, Wizards of Waverly Place, Phineus and Ferb, and of course Hannah Montana. And the summer hasn't even begun yet.

Good times.

Many Pictures, Few Words

Memorial Day weekend was great. Busy, nice weather, and fun. Can't beat that. Here are the pictures from the ever exciting weekend happenings.


Gretta. Gotta love that face.


She likey her Diet Pepsi.


It was this contraption or a pool.



Maggie in front of the fountain at the Chicago Temple.


And she's off. Gretta loves to go fast in the stroller.



And the Ward BBQ. Hot dogs, warm mayonnaise based food dishes, and merry go-round, bad bad combination. Several kids ended up a little green. Not mine, though.

Emma is still recovering from her Strep. Gretta has learned how to go down the stairs, and Maggie thinks she can stay up late and sleep till 9 or 10. All good things, I think.

Friday Fun

Okay, here we go again.

What are you doing for the long weekend?

I'll start.

Friday night, hopefully a movie and dinner. Depends on the babysitter.
Saturday, primary activity at the temple, and then maybe the zoo after that.
Sunday, church?
Monday, BBQ and games at the park with the Ward.

*I'll also be missing the annual Memorial Day BBQ at Julie's house. And of course, the whole cemetery action. Be sure and tell everyone "Hi" from me.

Now you.

Post-Preschool

Yesterday was Maggie's last day of preschool. She was in a class with only 4 girls, all of them darlings, and the sweetest, most organized teacher EVER. They had an "under the sea" theme for the year, and every activity and story went along with this theme. They learned about recycling trash they find on the beach, and what animals live in the ocean, and colored all sorts of sea creature pictures.
Here is Maggie with Kaitlyn, Jenna, and Taryn. Taryn's family lives just across from our neighborhood, so she and Maggie play quite frequently. It's nice to have a good friend so close.


And here are the girls with their teacher, Kim. She's so nice, and seriously the most organized person I have ever met. And she has very shiny floors. All good qualities in a teacher, don't you think?


And here's Gretta mowing the lawn. She loves outside. Loves it. She will try and go outside the second she wakes up. She walks to the front door and tries to pry it open with her little baby fingers. And then of course, she cries when it won't budge. But this lawnmower kept her entertained for an hour. Although, she can push it, she can't turn it around. So she just walked and walked until she ran into either the street or the hedges. Then someone would turn her around, and off she'd go. What a kid. If only I could get that lawnmower to really mow the grass, I'd be set.

Happy Mail

I love mail! It makes my whole day, if not my entire week. Really, it does. Here is the latest in the Happy Mail category. Note who it's from. Yes, that indeed says "the best sister ever!" in the return address portion. Niiiice.


And here's what was inside. Yay for Death Cab. And double yay for Smashbox. I love the Smashbox primer. It's the best I've ever tried, and trust me, I've tried my fair share. Meg knows me so well, it's scary.

And in case you were wondering, I'm totally loving the new Death Cab album. I loved "Plans" so much, that I was leery of this new one. But it certainly didn't disappoint.

The Guilties

Guilt. I hate that word. More than hating the word, I hate the feeling of the Guilties. You know what I'm talking about. Everyone gets it, and I don't know anyone that likes it. But I've made a resolution. I am no longer going to feel guilty for being the way I am. And I think the best way for me to exercise my renewal of freedom from the Guilties, is to write it out. Plain and simple. Things I will no longer feel guilty about.

Bullets!

• Not being thin enough.
• Not being pretty enough.
  
• Not having a perfectly clean house.
• Not buying my kids everything they want.
• Not going to church every week.
  
• Having friends that are not Mormons.
  
• Preferring to spend time with my family than with the Ward.
  
• Using an occasional colorful word to enhance my point.
  
• Letting my kids eat candy, and preservatives, and watch TV.
  
• Being myself, and all that it encompasses.
  

I've been having an inner turmoil since we moved here. I have been finding out who I really am inside. And you know what? I kinda like me. I'm pretty cool. I would be friends with me if I wasn't me. I am fully aware that I may not be a spiritual person, or one who sees beauty in every day life, or even one who looks for those things, but I have my ways of staying happy and seeing what fulfills me. I also understand that what and who I am today is not who I will always be, but merely a beginning to what I can become. But I have to do the things that feel right to me. And it's not always the easiest thing. But it's who I am. I am me. And gosh darn it, I like me!

Garage Sale

I have entered a new world. A world of junk, dollar bills, and plastic tables and chairs. A world where .25 cents makes all the difference between life and death. A world where, as Sugar Daddy showed us, speaking Spanish can make you many, many friends in a hurry. I can't take much credit for the garage sale. I only had a few maternity clothes and a handful of toys to sell. I think my grand total was $4.50 or something, but it was still fun. This is my neighbor Kate. She is the garage sale guru. She gets the best deals on everything. Plus she totally gets free stuff from Freecycle.org, then sells it. What an imagination! If I tried that, I would end up with a car full of junk that no one else wanted. Anyway, she is the greatest neighbor, and my kids love her. She told them they could help her on Saturday with the sale, so at 5:30AM Saturday morning, Maggie gets up, dressed and heads to Kate's to start selling. Yes, 5:30 AM! Luckily, Kate sent her back home, and she didn't go back until 8:00, but since I was sleeping I have no idea what she was doing for those 2 1/2 hours. I'm such a good mom.

So that was my garage sale experience. I don't think I would ever do one on my own. I'm just not that motivated. But it is pretty fun to just chill and chat with the neighbors.

The Mowstress

I am in charge of the lawn duties. How very eco of me, huh? Yes, tis true, I mow the lawn every week. I also have taken up the weed whacker duties, which is a completely new experience for me. But if I do say so myself, the lawn looks pretty damn good.

But I have a problem.

You see, it should only take me about an hour to mow the front and back yards, and yet somehow it takes me 3. What could I possibly be doing wrong? I think I know.

It may have something to do with the fact that I have to stop and chit chat with the neighbors for an hour in between bag emptying breaks. This translates into long, long afternoons spent "mowing" the lawn. So I've decided to call those pesky gossiping neighbors that I love so much my "mowstresses". I think that's a pretty creative word, don't you? Feel free to use it in a sentence.

"On my last pass, along the grass, the mowstress stopped me to talk to her ass".

I think I just swore 2 times in this post. That's gotta be a record. And for all you G-Rated folks out there, sorry.

Everything's bigger in the Midwest

Okay, this has been a weird transition period for me. In Utah, we have exactly 2 seasons. Freezing, and construction. Here in Chicagoland, there is an actual Spring. Like with rain, and thunder and lightning, and everything. I certainly don't miss hearing about "the drought" like it is some sort of disease. So along with rain comes several things I'm not familiar with. First is the birds.

They come out in droves. Or would it be flocks? But they descend upon the yards as if they are a moving carpet of worm devourers. It's strangely beautiful.


Which brings me to the worms. Look at these things! I have my foot there for size reference, not because I was going to squish it. Not only are they ginormous, they come out and basically cover the driveway. When the rains subside, the asphalt is plastered with little shriveled worm corpses. When we subsequently draw on the asphalt with chalk, as kids tend to do, their little corpses are peeled up like scabs. It's disgusting.


And here's Maggie looking very concerned about the whole worm/bird/nature situation. She is not a nature lover. Everyday she asks me if there will be bees out. I always say no. I always lie. Sorry.

Convalesce

Patient arrived home at approximately 10:30 AM EDT on Tuesday. He basically walked up the porch steps, up the back staircase, and fell into bed, and has moved nary a muscle for hours now. He ate a blue popsicle at the hospital this morning, and has a residual blue tint on his teeth, which is actually a nice change from the blood stains that were there yesterday. Although it does cause me to envision a Smurf colony has taken up inside the hole where the uvula used to be.

Patient has not needed pain meds, as of yet, which is disturbing considering I waited an hour for them at Wal-Mart. Doesn't he understand? Just take one, honey, it will make us both feel better. But this is actually a good sign that his pain is under control. I expect patient to remain sleepy, or sleeping, for the rest of the day and probably all day tomorrow. I just hope he'll find a time in there to take a shower. Hope hope hope.

We have removal

It's official. The removula was completed today at 10:30 AM EDT. The patient is stable, groggy, but otherwise progressing nicely. It is planned for patient to be discharged Tuesday morning, as early as possible, as his wife hates seeing him in a hospital gown and bed. She is a very demanding woman. Ice pack for his overheating, no tea or coffee on his food tray, please, and keep the popsicles coming. She also doesn't believe the Nurse effectively took his temperature or blood pressure, and is concerned by his lower than normal oxygen saturation. However, all of these issues will be resolved through the night, with careful observation.

And that is all, folks.

Thank you for the many well-wishing emails and phone calls. And a special thanks to my little helper for taking my kid and not complaining about a 6AM intruder. You rock.