Here Comes the Sun

Still on the Beatles kick. This was a very bad week for my car stereo to have been stolen. Fancy new anti-cancer diet starts tomorrow. The first item is to go directly outside and get 2 minutes of sunlight the second I wake up. It's a good thing my folks found that old Grateful Dead tape...kinda feel like I should bust out an old tie dye.

The White Album

I'm in the middle of a corrective Beatles experience. After about 4 years of avoiding the Beatles, I've been overtaken by a distant yet familiar passion, and I'm astounded by the accompanying emotions. For the last 72 hours, I've gone on a catalog-wide binge of personal favorites and these great 5 minute mini documentary videos from the iTunes store. I decided to unclick "shuffle" and listen the white album and it feels AWESOME. Like, really fucking awesome.

and his matchbox cars smell like mac 'n cheese

Let me start this post by saying that I am officially a single parent for the next 10 days.

Today, my kid fell off of:

--his tall seat at the kitchen bar.

--the sofa.

--my bed.

--the aero bed that we're "camping" on upstairs.

--the toilet.

waiting and anticipating

Watching the Sharks score 4 goals in the first period and still hardly holding a lead. At least I'm not at the game like Max, poor sucker. Although pizza he get, to be sure.

I had my initial phone interview with the Block Center today. After this coming Friday's scheduled call with Dr. Block himself, I should have a pretty good road map for the next as of yet undetermined period of time for how to handle this stage of cancer. I'm in the weird, anxiety-ridden, hazy stage where the tumor--according to my 2-month MRI/MRS cycle--is not getting bigger, I'm not taking chemo or getting radiation but I'm still draining that insipid crap through and out of my system, and I'm getting my menstrual cycle back. Just to name a few of the minor annoyances. The real hard part is being stuck between really sick, like, dying sick, and dead. Because in between treatment and death, as luck would have it, is a whole mess of grumpy. I feel fine, I can eat like a horse, sleeping enough to put a newborn baby to shame, can almost win an arm crossing contest with Samson the Angry Three Year Old and I'm slowly squashing my poor husband into a fatigued pulp of a man. And I can't remember shit.

Did I mention that I'm having memory problems?

Help put more red pixels in my inline thermometer

Here's another little blargh about the brain tumor walk on May 7th in SF. If you you're on a let's-save-the-world kick or all high from donating to Japan, hop onto my train, too!

Bite Me, Cancer

Come join a whole freaking bunch of us for a 5K walk through Golden Gate Park. The more you donate, the better your chances of being invited over to try out our new hot tub.

Wait, what?

no words

It's been a pretty odd couple of days.

It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but, boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live.

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you

And you can tell everybody this is your song.
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross.
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do.
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.

Doggone it

I don't know how so much time goes by between posts. I feel like so much as happened in the last week, even though almost nothing actually did. Oh, wait, yes I do know: housekeeping. I've actually been doing laundry, dishes, organizing, etc. The funny part is that time just flies by, I nap less (which not to say I need fewer naps), and I actually enjoy it. STRANGE.

One good thing that happened last week: Max and I had a terrific date night that consisted of getting our shop on at Bed, Bath & Beyond and open skate at Ice Chalet. Unbelievably fun.

Another good thing that happened last week that started out as a bad thing: Ozzy went AWOL on Sunday. Sadly we were so engrossed in organizing and finally decorating the master bathroom that we didn't notice the lack of snoring dog on the bed for about three hours. Even sadly-er, he lost his ID tag while out in the rain. Driving around the neighborhood in the rain did not produce the presumably cold, wet and anxious dog, and we had a tough time getting through the night thinking about what might have happened to him. After a post-preschool-drop-off trip to the pound at 9 am the next day, I discovered I had to wait even longer since the pound did not open until 11 am. I think it goes without saying that by that point, I did not have any fingernails left.

But the story ends well. When I came back at 11, filled out the required forms, and was led to the dog area, Ozzy was in the first kennel I checked. His eyesight must be getting worse, as he didn't really recognize me until I was right up in his face and talking to him. But still and all, pretty good for a 13 year old canine convict.

Turns out one of our neighbors had found him checking out their yard, and being big dog lovers, took him in for a while, canvased the neighborhood, then took him to the pokey. He was actually only on his own for about 30 minutes.

Fun Facts:

--When the neighbors had Ozzy, they decided to call him Peter.

--It costs $30 to bail a dog out of dog prison.

--It took over 24 hours for Home Again, the microchip location company, the contact me after Ozzy's chip info was submitted. Not such a fun fact, actually.

Needless to say, we're very glad to have the senior member of our family home (in dog years).

All's Well

After five days of antibiotics, the ear infection is long gone and the kid is back to normal. Those of you who know him can decided whether or not that's a good thing.

We--get ready--ORGANIZED THE CLOSETS yesterday in anticipation of me finally doing the 20 odd loads of laundry that have been piling up in the bathroom. Hopefully, we'll actually room for everything. Assuming it gets folded. Ahem.

We three went to a great and fun birthday party on Saturday; two awesome brothers turned 2 and 7 respectively, and we had such a great time, it was easily worth the trek out to Davis--great job and kudos to Erin and Steve for throwing an awesome party in the drizzle.

Number One

Samson's first earache reached it's pitiful high around 1:30 this morning. The day has been sprinkled with bits of heavenly cuddles, he and I snuggled undercovers in a king sized bed, Bubble Guppies or Sponge Bob barely audible behind us. There has also been a juicy center of tears, cries for mommy, one distrustful visit to the doctor and a a sleepy shopping spree at Safeway while waiting for antibiotics. He just went back to bed in his room, and I expect him to join us again within the hour. We're taking this time to blog and play Call of Duty, respectively.

My Son the Shark

Samson started big kid swim lessons today. He and another adorable kid have a teacher all to themselves for half an hour weekly of floating, kicking, head dunking, and making bubbles--all of which makes a happy three year old. And I get a tired out kid who falls asleep by 7:30 without an argument. SCORE.

Move Along

Home, yes. My body is here, battling with all of it's strength not to catch what kiddo had last week. My mouth is here, devouring cookie dough and Golden Grahams and anything sweet and unhealthy. But my mind and soul are...somewhere else. Not sure how or where, but it almost feels like part of me didn't make it back from my road trip. My heart is heavy and my head aches. I sleep, drink coffee, drive the kiddo to or from somewhere, sleep more, drink more coffee...sigh. I can still find joy in things, like Charlie Sheen ridiculosity or kiddo's first no-parent swim lesson tomorrow, but as soon as a thing ends or my pace slows down, I am just...sad. I start therapy next week.