Way up north

Samson & I are having a great time in Portland. We're heading to Bend tomorrow with friends to camp in the Three Sisters area for the week. Such great friends, such great weather, amazing luck and all around summer vacation-y-ness. The playlist is supreme and the photo album is already brimming with winners. Such as:

Happy Monday

Beautiful weather continues, an adorable 2 year old and collecting pretty pods on a nature walk. Yay!

haiku wednesday

I want to eat food.
mostly the kind that's no good.
mmmm, butterfinger.

max is in texas.
san antonio, but wait
there is no basement.

the last day of  school.
big party--hot dogs, music.
we'll miss our school friends.

time to watch tv.
will it be law & order?
it's on TNT.

Sitting in the waiting room

All I could think about was how hard it was to think. I imagine my brain is like a water weenie that's filled with baked beans or polenta, and nothing can ever be in a solid state. I can't hold on to a memory or an idea long enough to recall it, and the things I can focus on are gooshy. It's moderately difficult to form an educated opinion based upon fact, and very hard to later on remember why I had chosen that position. One of the results of this state of being is that I am absurdly awkward at social events. And I'm about to enter the ultimate world of awkward social events--elementary school. Well, the kiddo, not me, but it comes with the whole package: PTA, volunteer stuff, fundraising, etc. And it's k-8 so these are quite likely our community for the 9 years minimum. Or at least I hope so. Let's all keep our fingers crossed and see if i can keep my social ineptitude at bay.

Also, I had a clean scan yesterday. Not as clean as previous scans, but the spot that dr. Clarke found last april hadn't changed at all--no growth or anything like that. No more scans until September...after kindergarten starts.

haiku wednesday

I love my laptop.
It it small, black, and brand new.
It is a PC.

Kid got a haircut!
I can hardly tell it's him.
He's nearly a man.

Threw Max a party.
All of the guests wore his face!
It was kind of weird.

Turkey is the best.
Although I miss the old dogs
she brings my soul joy.

Check me out! Big shot!
My feet are moving forward.
(The feet in my brain.)

OK, Mom, I blogged.
Thanks for the pushy email.
I mean, like, really.

Big Ass Moon

Kiddo and I went backpacking with some friends last weekend. It's been 12 years since my last backpacking trip, and this was the kiddo's first camping trip as someone with with a brain capable of creating viable memories. In broad terms, it was successful. There were a few freak outs, and definitely more dangerous bugs than I'm used to seeing in any given 24 hour period. But there was also a Mega Moon.

I tend to do things half-assedly in general, so I when I read the brief email from our camping pals earlier in the week about the mega moon, I didn't actually click the link that would explain to me what a mega moon actually, in fact, was. No, instead, I took what my brain decided a mega moon was and mixed it with some random (and, more likely than not, imaginary) statistic and came out with a variety of outlandish claims ti attach to the impending mega moon.

"You know, the moon's supposed to be the brightest it's been in like 900 years or something."

"Oh yeah, the mega moon is going to be closer than it's been since the year Haley's Comet was last here."

"There's only a mega moon once every 27 years."

Despite my lack of ability to speak the truth (generally speaking), we all enjoyed the massively mega moon. The kiddo really dug sleeping outdoors, which was helpful considering that the tent didn't stay entirely upright the whole night. Regardless, to quote the little dude, "It was the best night ever in my whole life." It was great to be reminded how much I love camping.

Top 5 Formative Things That I Need to Instill into the Kiddo While He's Still Spongy

1. the Beatles
2. dogs
3. drums
4. duets
5. collecting

power through

how on earth did nearly 6 months go by without a single blog post? i'm floored! shocked! and yes, ashamed. mildly.

coyote point and number 2

At the CuriOdysssey exhibit this afternoon, all the animals were asleep. One of the bobcats was sitting in a black plastic bucket, but the pretty much everyone else was fast asleep. The raccoon, the river otters, the porcupine, the fox, the badger, the coyote...this is starting to sound like a children's book. It was cool to see all the mammal snuggling going on. We didn't spend more than a minute or two looking at bugs and bees (thank goodness). A great time was had by all. We're going to meet the same friends next week to go to the planetarium!

Day 3 of commando hardcore potty training: success phase I was fruitless. I'll take that over a poop-related accident any day!

most days I know it's not true

Laying in my clean, nicely made bed, listening to the Mountain Goats on the rdio system Max set up in the bedroom...dawn of a new musical era this week. washed, folded and put away all of the laundry in house. Picked up dry cleaning. Mailed a package to Gill. Got stuff for dinner tonight. All that's left is to put away dishes and set the dining room for shabbat.

Two weeks until Max and I leave for Disney World and then New York to meet up with Samson and the family. I am overwhelmed with excitement, desire, and the need for the 2 of us to get away. Also the need for cotton candy and root beer. And Space Mountain.

No excuses...

...except for some extreme laziness. Didn't I mention? I'm training for the lay on the sofa and watch crap TV 500. I'm hoping to get Snuggie or the E! network to sponsor me. Ahem.

Brief catchup: clean MRI in June. Samson is in summer camp. Ozzy has ESF (extremely stinky farts). I want to make out with nearly every character on Game of Thrones.

Oh! We went house boating on Lake Shasta! So amazing and awesome, I can hardly believe it was real! Great friends, great water, great times.

Coming up this summer: trips to Israel, Disney World, San Diego and upstate New York.

Still macrobiotic with a few carefully orchestrated cheat meals. Think I may have finally acquired an appreciation for Pink Floyd.

I continue to think about cancer everyday and talk about it nearly every chance I get. It defines me so much more than I'd like it to. Hopefully, with help from my awesome therapist, I'll be able to get through this whole-self-encompassing phase and move peacefully into a better, more emotionally healthy part of the rest of my life. I am much more than a cancer victim, and need those other parts of me to SPEAK LOUDLY and SHOW ME WHAT I CAN DO. And who I can be, besides a schlumpy, pitiful, self-fulfilling prophesier with her eyes shut tight and her fingers in her eyes screaming LA LA LA LA LA to keep all of the noise out.

Sigh.

So onwards and upwards!

What happened to April?

I have NO idea. I was doing fine, and then...nothing.

I started a macrobiotic program on April 1, that's been pretty damn consuming. Lots of chopping. Lots of chewing. Lot's of grinding my own fresh organic almond butter at Whole Foods. Ahem.

Had a good MRI early in the month. Samson's been home for the last 2 weeks; there was walking pneumonia and then a week off of school for passover. Can't wait till school starts back up tomorrow!

Less than 2 weeks until the Brain Tumor 5K in SF! I'm excited to see all my GBM buds and out of town pals and my in town pals, too. If you're feeling give-y, please donate to my fundraising page.

hello, april

April, so far, has been nothing but awesome weather and the world's crankiest 3 year old. Also the world's crankiest mommy, due in part to the afore mentioned child and in part to three full days of macrobiotics. Some of you would be happy to point out that macrobiotics is more than switching to whole grains over white and almond butter over Skippy. Yes, thank you for that. But ooh, gasp, I've been eating my veggies too. Mostly with hummus or goddess dressing, but still. The only thing I can't quite keep on track with is the tea. I'm supposed to be drinking 2 cups of tea a day, and I have't had any yet. I've never been a tea fan, and with this one being decaf, I'm even more inclined to "forget." But other than that, I'm keeping on track and enjoying the tuna, the quinoa and the blue agave. The lack of Carl's Jr, not so much.

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.

Home Again

Sorry, it's hard to type with a three year old attached to my everywhere. Turns out, Samson missed me. A LOT. More details and pics of the Road Trip coming soon. Like as soon as school starts on Monday. Sheesh.

Getting the heck out of dodge

Leaving Lubbock, off to Albuquerque!

...after a quick stop at Denny's :)

Group(on) of the Day

Max and I just returned from a wet but lovely night out in Palo Alto, brought to us at half price by Groupon. Two new hoodies for Samson at American Apparel and a delicious dinner at Three Seasons, all for pennies, PENNIES, I tell you. Thanks, grandparents, for feeding the kiddo and watching Cailou with him.

My single parenting week is over a day and a half early, thanks to Max surprising me by coming home from NYC this morning instead of tomorrow evening. What an awesome way to say I love you; he was really very missed on this trip. Samson and I both were just beside ourself with longing Monday night--it's no fun coming home to an empty house with no Aba to watch for from the living room window.

Had a terrific brunch yesterday morning with another glioma gal (we're EVERYWHERE), but this one's also a friend from high school! How wild is that? She's been fighting the good fight for 9 years now, and is crazy awesome. In fact, you would do well to donate to her Brain Tumor Society 5K page. Feeling double generous? Donate to my page, too.

Why is the sky spitting on us?

Something weird happened today. When we left for school, the ground was all wet and there was water dripping from the sky. WTF? It's February, not April.

The last 2 weeks have been downright tropical, and thankfully, we spent the last two days of sunshine outdoors in SF and Sacramento. SF Zoo was Saturday, celebrating a friend's birthday and watching as before our very eyes, some of tiniest, teeniest babies we know became proper toddlers and little kids in general. It still seems weird for some reason.

The we drove to Sacramento (which a productive and jelly bean filled stop at the Vacaville outlet mall) so we could indulge in some room service before everyone passed out. Sunday was the Train Museum for a corrective experience for all of us, since our last visit had gone so, so horribly wrong.

Surprisingly-ish, the best part was Funderland! Go Sacramento, you really know how to make trashy and run down into fun and only slightly deadly. We'll be seeing you next summer. Ka-CHOW.

Dig Deep

I hate fundraising so I'm only going to post this once.

Unite to fight brain tumors! Seriously, even $10 will help.

Thanks for your continued support, team! Cancer sucks!

Check None

With only 3 hours of free time today, I took a 3 hour nap. Goddamn, it felt good. It most definitely not feel good to shirk my responsibilities, ignore piles of laundry (dirty, clean, or folded, take your pick), ignore piles of mail, ignore piles of filing. Thursday and Friday I am Samson free from 9 to 4, so if I get my ass in gear, I should be able to put a serious dent in the list.

We went out for a Groupon dinner at a new-to-us kabob place in San Carlos tonight. It was pretty good, but they get extra points for having Iskender Kabob on the menu (my favorite meal from Turkey.). And extra points on top of that for tolerating Samson's crappy mood. We had spent the afternoon with Safta Sheva at the Donkey Park in Palo Alto, and that place always tires him out. He's mostly dropped his afternoon nap, but couldn't resist a late afternoon/early evening snooze--and who am I to argue with a nap?

Check One

I have a short-ish, 4 item list of things that I need to accomplish. Some of the items aren't one shot, do this types of things, but rather do a some fo this each day until goal is reached. So, do-over: I have a short-ish list of 4 goals that I need to accomplish, I can check one solid item off that list. Damn I love being able to say that.

Last week, I gathered my 719 page patient file from Stanford and with help from Super Mom, got all of my questionnaires, MRI disks and requested record sorted, organized, copied, and sent out to The Block Center for Integrative Cancer Treatment. Maybe the good Dr. Block has discovered a special combo of banana, corn flakes and jelly beans that prevent tumor recurrence. Or maybe he can recommend a good local voodoo practitioner.

Clean MRI

Hoorah, another MRI at UCSF today came out clear and sparkly. Two more months to keep on keeping on before we spin the wheel of chance again.

The awful thing that happened this morning: when I met Burt, my MRI nurse at Mission Bay, his eye and much of his head and face were covered in gauze. He told me about his Friday night, which unfortunately involved a mentally unstable man at the bar throwing a wine class in his face, which shattered and got in his eye, face, and scalp. He was only at the lab today because there was no backup until tomorrow. He'll probably need surgery and may loose his eye! Shocking and horrible. I adore Burt, and wish him many fine pain pills and two eyes that work well.

Happy Sad

Happy!



I have an amazing, kick-ass, stellar group of Glioma Gals in my life. Enough said. Well, not really enough.

I've known Erin for a YEAR now (what?!) and we clicked big time from day one. We chat frequently, and have met up (she lives in Davis) and good number of times. She has adorable children, a love bug husband, is an excellent mother and a ridiculously right on person. We have the same kind of Glioma and are in the same trial at UCSF. I know I owe my survival thus far in part to her.

Toby I haven't known as long, although I enjoy getting to know her as we meet more often. She's local to me and lives near the best park in the area. Her youngest child is Samson's age, she's got a great dog, and she is a hoot.

I met Liz from Roseville yesterday for the first time. All I will say for now is A. I have a huge girl crush--short hair, glasses, tattoos, hmm who does that remind you of? and B. what an intelligent woman.

All of these gals are whip smart, have amazing factual recall, and are full of energy. I know that I'm a little more caffeinated and hyper than normal when I meet up with other survivors, but damn, these chicks are like speed to me. A just jibber jabbered the afternoon away with no filter whatsoever. It felt great.

Sad!

The headaches are crap. It's like I've always got a headache, either a dull one that lasts for days or strong one that only lasts a few hours. I'm irritable lately, tense, and down on myself for not doing more or doing better. I've gained weight since my appetite came back around Thanksgiving, and I'm not exercising or eating healthfully like I (DUH) should be. I can't get enough sugar, with the internets say is like inviting the little webby bits of my tumor that are left in my brain over for protein shakes and some Wii Fit. Left Over Tumor + Sugar = BAD. Left Over Tumor + Pregnancy = BAD. And all I want is to get knocked up and bathe in a tub full of wild berry flavored gummy Life Savers.

With some luck, I'll be able to keep blogging more regularly. Even if the entries are mostly suck ass and whiney and full of expletives. It makes me feel better, it got zero calories, and I've got a lot to say these days.

Note to Self

After having read the last 18 months or so of posts, one thing is painfully clear: I need a copy editor.

twinkle twinkle, little star

I wish I wish I wish I could follow Dr. Liz's example and start writing again. It may not be a place or happiness or contentment that I write from, but it's still an important place and it's still a valuable way getting my thoughts and feelings straight--I seriously tall order in my poor, poisoned brain.

Maybe I need to get some Hawaii sun too? Hummmm?

nighty night

good night, dear internet. i have facebooked and emailed and chatted and messaged and even you tubed a bit. for one more night, you have saved me from the yucky mess that is right in front of me. you filtered out the low long-term survival rates of GBM 4 patients and the persecution of gays, women, children and animals and instead gave me video of my chubby, laughing niece playing peekaboo 3000 miles away and a message from an old friend offering me a free hair do.

soon, i will have cable tv in my home, hbo, too, so my exclusion of personal reality--when necessary--should be complete. bring in the love, push out the jive.

October? If you say so!

During the last couple of weeks, we've more days than not when it's uncomfortably hot, upper 90's and buggy. Still, folks tell me it's Fall. Samson's been at proper, honest-to-goodness preschool for a month now (including the 27 Jewish holidays in September, since it's a Jewish school). He's really making the transition from two-day school to everyday school very well, and is very good at bossing his new friends around and taking without asking. In just under one month, he'll be three. At which point, I will promptly fall over dead from astonishment.

In September, Max and I took a grown-ups only trip to Disneyland to celebrate our 3rd wedding anniversary. We had a terrific time staying on-site at the Disneyland Resort Hotel, and had some tasty dinners and lots of churros in the parks. Next trip for me will be Christmas in Minneapolis with Coop and the Richmans while Max goes back to Israel for work.

Now, let's see if I can manage more than one post this month...

half assed update

Of course lots has happened. We went to New York and met my adorable baby niece. Some of us started preschool this week, Lots of us are making travel plans and doing exciting things. But also, I sit here and bum myself out. Quite regularly these days. So if you don;t mind, I'll do that for a bit longer before I try to blog more in earnest.

In case it went unposted, last MRI was fine, everything looks great.

A Day in Davis

We went up to Davis today to visit my GBM buddy and have lunch with her awesome family. Samson followed 6 year old Paco around the whole time, learning (almost) how to slip n' slide in a kiddie pool. We had lots of fun, and it was nice to reminisce about our year living there back in 2001-2002...our first home together! The house where Ozzy's separation anxiety really began to take shape, and the home of our first Ikea sofa (thanks, Grandpa Henry). We fought off the huge cockroaches, the loud parties of the Pacific Islanders Frat house next door, and the chickens being raised in the backyard of our duplex neighbors. We survived the fear when Miru escaped and was gone for 2 weeks, the fear of 9/11/01, and the fear (or excitement, depending who you ask) of Max going back to Israel after graduating from UCD to serve in the military. We met some very awesome friends who, thanks to Facebook, we can still keep in touch with.

Looking back, I think wow--what an eventful and intense year for us!

That being said, I'm about six weeks away from the one year anniversary of my GBM diagnosis. Talk about eventful and intense! Good thing I'm a drama queen.

To blog or not to care

My nightly chat buddy is offline right now, so I figured I try to keep this more frequent blogging thing going. The house is quiet and still, with the faint sounds of Call of Duty in the background and Ozzy snoring under the bed. Samson (AKA the screamiest toddler around) insisted that we leave his door open tonight (and most every night lately), so Max and I have our volumes down to .6, although Milhouse is not respecting this moratorium on noise, so he's more like a 2, 2 and a half. So far so good.

I'm pretty bummed about how Facebook seems to have won out in my internet-updating-app life. This wasn't any sort of choice, but let's face it: Twitter is too short, and a blog entry feels like it has to be multiple paragraphs, while Facebook just has to be anywhere from a single word to 3 or 4 sentences. Or just a picture. Or a reposting of someone else's handiwork. Surely, you can see my dilemma.

Maybe I'll just start treating posts like status updates--then they'll make their way to my coolest friends via buzz.

By the way, Scotty, italics don't necessarily mean sarcasm. Just sayin'.

The headache returns

That evil headache I got in Tahoe last January has been back for the last 2 days. I've also been on Temodar, so everything is kind of crap and I've had Team Samson out in force. I'm hoping to kick this week in the ass before Saturday and we head to the farm for Rhonda's birthday party. Meanwhile, Samson is pretty damn sure that his room is NOT the room to sleep in, and certainly NOT his bed. It's been tough getting him down or napped the last few days, so we're going to try the safety gate answer that my Facebook posse came up with when I put it up for discussion. Hey, better than holding the door shut till he passes out from screaming and exhaustion like SOMEbody in my family was doing.

OK, it was me.

1.5 weeks till our family Lake Vacay, and soon after that preschool starts! I know that September will bring school, a schedule and with it, some peace and harmony and little less crazy from SOMEbody in my family.

OK, it's me.

All Quiet

I have nothing to report. It's all the same old cancer complaints or 2.5 year old complaints or just general Deborah complaints, and that makes me sad. The drive to tell my story and share my thoughts and adventures has fizzled out, almost completely. Any ideas from youse guys on how to fix myself? Other than, you know, moving my body, or say, doing stuff. Ahem.

But please keep checking back. There's a chance I could find a way to beat these doldrums before long. I've got a good team on my side and trip to upstate New York coming up.

Home from Israel

Back from Israel. Take the exhaustion of international travel, add a two-year-old, a dash of tonsillitis (me, not Samson), and the fatigue of the meds (not Tarceva, thankfully), and you have ONE DEAD ASS TIRED MOMMY. Luckily, Samson went off to nanny share today, although he threw up in Grandpa's car on the way home--seems to be sleep/schedule/excitement/nerve related more than an actual illness. Avastin tomorrow. Getting back on track.

Feel my wrath

Not blogging makes me angry.

Know what else makes me angry? CANCER.

Dagnammit

How many years now has "blog every day" been in my list of New Year's resolutions? A great many, that how. So here I am, going weeks between posts, not telling anyone how I had an AWESOME MRI week before last, or how I finally went to Samson's parent co-op school today (he started the week before Sept 21), or how Ozzy's eyes have turned a dignified but unsettling dark grey cloudy color. Things have changed! I have changed! How? Well, I can't think of any examples right now. Oh, tea! I drink tea now instead of coffee. That's a huge difference. But other than that, my mind is blank. That's certainly not new.

Long story short: I promise, I'll be better. Take me back.

I have an awesome new friend, but I can't remember what her blog name is supposed to be. The important thing is that she's got Glioblastoma stage 4 too, and she is truly my hero these days. Never giving up hope, never letting the heaviness got her too, too down, reaching out to other GBM folks for camaraderie and advice and a good time. We're in very similar situations, except that she's got TWO little boys--can you Imagine?--and she's started taking a running class. A RUNNING class. I mentioned maybe popping by the gym the other day and Samson was all the huh? the what? McDonald's? Lucky for me, my buddy is also motivating with her go get 'em ways.

So please, I beg of you, give me at least 7 more chances. I'll be back. I'll be around. I'll write about my strikingly glamourous MRIs and lament the Shark's lack of oomph in round two. I know! I'll post pictures! From Disneyland! And other places! We both know I don't mean it, but let the lie survive, just for one night.

No mouse ears

There were no mouse ears. Every time I go, I declare that I will get mouse ears. But it never happens. I did however, succeed in my goal of getting cotton candy every day. Yum!

Samson had a great time, we all did. It was a lot of work and a lot of patience and totally worth it. Pics soon. Promise.

Hey Hey, Kids, What Time Is It?

Still here. Sleeping. Like usual. Low platelets for anyone keeping score.

Loving the new car; can't wait to leave for Disneyland in it! Coming soon: photos of mouse ears.

Beep

Oh yeah! I got my license yesterday! I was too sleepy today to remember to post about it. And yes, it's wonderful. Strange, but it didn't cure my cancer like I thought it would. Hmm.

yawn

While I'm feeling all in all better than a month ago (bye bye, milk and cheese), I simply cannot shake this fatigue. I am, in fact, sleep blogging right now.

Just had a great video chat with my bro and the missus plus their little 12 day old bundle. She's so cute, I can even look past the fact that she cries whenever we're on video chat and that she has the funniest little crossed eyes you've ever seen. I can't wait to hold her, but she'll be way past the squishy stage by then, more in the sitting up phase. But that's also the giggling phase, so I guess Uncle Beardo and Auntie Doofus will be there as well.

I'm actually going into the office tomorrow, which is good for morale. It feels good to be in an old familiar place and eat old familiar sushi.

Baby, I can drive my OWN car, thank you very much

I can't believe I didn't post this on Wednesday (sorry, I was in the Temodar haze), but I passed my driving test! Written, vision and behind the wheel, I kicked some serious ass, even within 24 hours of having taken my last dose of chemo. I am supreme.

It'll likely be a week or two before I get a letter from the DMV stating that I am eligible for a new license, and that I have to have to head down to the DMV and stand in line to get the temp paper license and have my photo taken for my real license, but I'm one gigantic step closer to me being me-ish again. It's a good feeling.

After having slept most of the week (again, I HEART TEMODAR, not), I was able to get out and about this morning, thanks to my drill sergeant mom and her love of giving orders (also her love of me), and her rare skill at 2-year-old herding. She's something to see, really. If toddler wrangling were an Olympic sport, she'd be all, look at my 17 gold medals, dig?

Get out of my dream, get into my car

This Wednesday I'm scheduled to take my driver's exams, both behind the wheel (cake) and written (huh). I'm not too anxious--thank you, Ativan--and it will be VERY NICE to have the freedom back that driving brings. Did I mention that it will be VERY FREAKING NICE to be a licensed driver again? Because it will. Not driving has been been one of the hardest parts of this whole ordeal. It's not like we live in the middle of an urban area, or even one with sidewalks. We're not remote, but walking up and down the hills of my neighborhood in the rain? Yeah, no.

Tonight is night 4 of my 5 day chemo schedule; days 3-5 tend to leave me without any energy and most often a wicked tummy ache/headache combo, and the first 2 or 3 days after are usually pretty bad as well. I've been real careful this round with what I eat and getting enough rest, and I feel tons better so far. There have been a few days this past week of straight sunshine, and I think that helps. Plus, you can't knock the pure joy that a new baby in the family brings, not to mention how unbelievably cute Samson's been lately... Hopefully, things will stay on this track and everything goes my way on Wednesday. Off to study.

Baby, actually IN Brooklyn this time

Samson's cousin was born tonight, 8:19 pm eastern and super cute and squishy (we'll call her Gretta). Max has this knack for sensing genders the moment he learns of a pregnant friend, and he's still got it. My bro and the missus didn't find out the sex during pregnancy--amazing!--but Max knew all along. Now I get to go buy some pink stuff! Yay!

Hug your kids tonight, we're lucky as hell to have 'em.

Baby in Brooklyn

My sister-in-law started contractions this morning. Samson should have his first North American cousin in the next day or so! Delicious.

A ridiculous day filled to the brim with forgetfulness, loss of keys (TWICE), rushing around and hurrying up to wait in doctor's offices. But hey, at least I got to read a New Yorker from 2008, right?

I'm going to take a moment away from my normal "this thing sucks" and "this other thing is totally annoying" mode and take some time to introduce you to the soppy, sappy, cheese-filled me. Behold:

I love my husband immensely. He has worked so had this past 6 months to keep me (and all of us) from crashing and burning. Max, I dedicate this awesome scar from my craniotomy to you. You earned it.

Also, the cat is snoring. Do cats even do that?

Taking names and kicking stuff

Sunshine! It was sunny today! And warm, I think. My internal temperature is whack, but I only had a light hoodie on over a t-shirt and felt great. This, my friends, is a good sign.

Had another stellar MRI yesterday at UCSF. But this is the best part: the to-do list is actually starting to get some items crossed off of it. Curretnly trying to figure out physical therapy, pre-school, two up-coming trips (special couples trip to Portland next month for me and Ozzy, Disneyland for the whole mishpocha during pesach), 2 other upcoming trips (2 weddings in Israel--have to schedule all travel around Avastin, Temodar, MRI's and labs)...YIKES.

But this is the BEST best part: Lady Richman will be here on Friday for a long weekend visit! No adorable little girls or strapping husband in tow, but some taffy and a Julie hug are just what I need this week. And every week.

And the BEST BEST best part and that little pumpkin head kid of mine. I can;t keep up with how goddamn cute he is. The last couple of days, he's been telling us, "Trust me, I'll take care of it."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And the award for cute goes to: my progeny.

34

Here I am, another year older. It was a great birthday, although I couldn't really eat anything, but I had lots of Buffalo Stout and some St. Bernardus ABT 12 and was given a couple of amazingly personal and thoughtful gifts (I only cried at the table 3 times).

How can 34 be anything for me but a year of newness? A new way of life, a new way of living. Hoping for a new perspective. New ways of feeling love, new ways of feeling pain, new ways of relating to different people and new ways to show thanks. Already made a new friend!

Although tonight sort of feels a lot like more of the same--labs at 9am tomorrow morning, start 5 retched days of Temodar tomorrow night, lots of scowling and whining--there's still some newness behind it.

New car! We got a Mazda 5 so that I'll be able drive as soon as I get my freaking license back. It's sparkly and greenish-bluish-topaz-y and I love it.

New experience! We're taking Samson up to Tahoe this weekend with the baby-and-non-baby crew for his first taste of snow. Should be more fun than even I can shake a stick at. And you know how I like to shake sticks.

What the what?

Who posts about how happy they are are to have a cold? Sheesh, I deserve this left over runny nose.

This past weekend can be described in two words: pain and facebook.

Oh, wait--those are actually the same word aren't they? Huh. Go fig.

Now, we all like to run into old friends on the line now and again, but it got a little out of control for me this weekend. I'm not dumb, I know a lot of it has to do with facing mortality and blah blah BLAH, but COME ON. Know when to say WHEN.

That being said, I am so stoked to have been reunited with some old junior high school friends this weekend. It's pretty cool that somethings never change, even though everything else seems to change daily, hourly, even by the second.

Here's to keeping up.

I feel normal

I have a cold. A glorious, boring, I'm pretty sure you can't die from 'em COLD. What's better, I caught it from my normal, screaming, hitting, kicking two year old. How NORMAL.

I'm too tired to think about about going back in the archives to look for posts where I whine and whine and WHINE about being sick, but this is one illness I won't be complaining about. Hooray for mucus and 10,000 tissues next to the bed! Hooray for Halls Mentholyptus! Hooray for tea and honey!

Now it's time for an extra pillow and movies in bed. Night, all.

New Year, New Stuff to Bitch About

Wow, that whole holiday season thing, like, totally knocked me over flat. And then when I wiped the candy cane and gelt dust off of my face and stood up, my oncologist crammed another 1,850 mg of Temodar down my throat. It's a wonder I haven't accidentally fed cat food to the dog and dog food to the cats, ha ha, which is a funny thing to ponder because that would never happen. Ahem.

So here we are in 2010--the year we...do something? make contact? something--and I've already been to 2 doctor's appointments, had 3 phone consults and am seeing the dentist tomorrow. Maybe it's 2010, the year we make appointments. BUT, but, I've also kept my new years resolution for SIX WHOLE DAYS now (boring--it involves journaling without too many swears), AND I went out today and got me a shiny new job. J-O-B! Actually, it's the least new job imaginable; it's back at the very office in which I birthed this very blog: The Planning Shop, fine purveyors of resources for entrepreneurs. Part time, so as not to make my brain go all screwy, but I truly am very happy and excited to talk to PEOPLE who aren't DOCTORS about THINGS that aren't CANCER on a REGULAR BASIS. Honestly, I'd almost rather talk about politics than cancer. Almost.

Hope every one had a great holiday season. May 2010 be less artsy, more fartsy!

It's Oh So Quiet

Wait a minute. What's that sound?

....

OK, except for the freezer making ice cubes and the dog sighing, all I hear is...nothing. Typing. Second hand tick tocking. No TV, no toddler dumping toy trains on the living room floor, no dishwasher running, no kitties meowing their demands (in, out, in, food, out, repeat). It's weird. And wonderful.

Max is back at work full time this week, and today is a playschool with Grandpa then off to the nanny share day for Samson. I have an hour and a half until my date at the gym, and I don't think I've had this much alone time since before Sept 21st. Sure, I've lots to actually do, but no distractions. Nothing higher on the priority list, like changing diapers or playing fire truck or cooking a deliciously lavish and butter laden breakfast with my combo husband-live in chef.

Feels nice. Real nice.

What Cancer?

So much celebrating lately! Between holidays, the end of radiation, and the general feeling of goodwill that seems to follow me wherever I go, it's getting easier and easier to push the tumor's invisible twin out of my head. Even thought the tumor is gone, the fact that it ever existed has been impossible to forget, or rather, impossible not to think about nearly every second of every day. There's always something to remind me, but here are the main culprits:

1. Still not allowed to drive. Kind of makes me feel like a prisoner, even though I have wonderful Max, awesome family, and terrific friends acting as my collective chauffeur.

2. Hair still falling out, and generally looking like ass. I found a nice looking salon on Yelp that I intend to try now that radiation is over, but every time I look in a mirror, I get a little sad.

3. Pretty much all of my skin hurts, pretty much all of the time. We can thank Tarceva for that, one of the trial drugs I'm taking through UCSF. Totally worth it, and I'm thankful for the trial and the opportunity to double up the chemo on this sonofabitch, but ow. In lots of inconvenient places, like my hands and ears.

4. The overwhelming emotion attached to this situation makes my far away friends seem so, so much farther away. Not emotionally, because every single friend (plus some new ones, some old ones, and many that I didn't even know about) has rallied for me and continues to be part of my physical and mental armor, but physically, I miss the hugs and the random shopping trips to Target.

Of course, I am very good at looking forward to upcoming fun stuff. I have a ridiculously long list of events and trips to plan and get super excited about in the next few months--I'll expand in another post, one that won't take three weeks to write--and that helps me forget as well.

Also, I had my first cocktail in 4 months this weekend. Bloody Marys rule!

I can't believe I ate the whole thing

My appetite came back tonight, just for the evening. I think it was a nice treat to help get me ready for Thanksgiving next week. Not that panko fried prawns, scallops and halibut with coleslaw and fries and extra cocktail sauce is anything like turkey et al, but hot damn it was tasty and very very enjoyable. Hell of a date night. Now while Max has guy date night on the Xbox, I'm watching the Sharks in Anaheim and trying to do some video journaling while Samson screams in agony downstairs, how dare we try to put him to bed! The nerve!

The funny part is that I'm mostly doing these video journals for him, so he'll one day have them should he want to know about how I felt during this time or how I saw things (of course I'll be here to tell him myself, but there ain't nothing wrong with insurance), and when we watches them, in many entries, he'll hear two year old Samson, screaming his precious little ass off in the background: "Mommy! Eeee mommy! Eeeee mommy! House! Mommy!" No, we don't make him sleep outside, "house" refers to any part of the house in which he is not currently. (That sentence felt awkward, but I know I'm not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition. Hmm.)

A lot of life is not total crap

So let's talk about the things in life that don't make want to curl up in a ball and cry and cry and cry until the giant hill I live on top of gets washed away by a mudslide of salty tears.

1. Two of the nicest people I know had a baby in late September. He is very large and has a great deal of hair on his head. He is adorable and sleepy, and I get to hold him all the time.

2. Samson is in a very enjoyable huggy kissy phase. We spend a lot of time cuddling and tickling and kissing and reading books and chasing the cat...it's like heaven.

3. The weather has been amazing, and you know how I feel about the weather.

I'm considering making myself a bunch of t-shirts with pictures of powerful people and survivor types on them. Because that's how I feel these days. People Like Xena: Princess Warrior and that guy who ate that whole 64 oz steak at that one Cattleman's restaurant...truly inspiring people.

Worst. Post. Ever.

So. Where have I been for the last 6 weeks? I've been here. And here. And spending lots of time in one of these. And getting one of these. Because, apparently, I have this.

Lucky Me!

Let's not get all wacko and out of control. Some shit sucks, I mean really sucks, but let's remember a few things:

1. I am young.
2. I am strong.
3. I refuse to become a statistic.

And even when my pillow is drenched from tears and I can't eat because of the chemotherapy or I'm just so damn tired, I will always have the motivation I need from these guys:



And, of course, a host of other wonderful peoples.

Clearly, posting will be light, and chances are I won't have much to say other than HOLY SHIT I HAVE CANCER. But who knows, I may surprise myself. And for the umpteenth time today, I will thank god or whoever is in charge of this mess that back on September 21, when I had the seizure that caused me to crash my car and sent me to the hospital so that the amazing doctors could discover this horribleness, that NOBODY WAS HURT, especially not Samson, who was riding in his super awesome car seat in the back of the now totaled Subaru Outback. The very same Samson who will turn two years old on Sunday.

Nice one, Mother Nature

Finally, after months of perfectly acceptable but hardly tank top worthy weather, Indian Summer (also known to us Bay Area folk as "real summer") is upon us. Every year, Mother Nature waits until all of the annoying youth are back in school and then unleashes upon us six amazing weeks of 90+ temps, the occasional dramatically humid thunder storm, and cool morning fog that quickly gives way to BBQ friendly afternoons. This will last until Halloween, when the chilly nip of autumn will grace our presence for about a month before plain old winter takes over until late April. Guh.

Sometimes this is may favorite season, this late September/early October perfection, but it's hard to compete with autumn (or any season that involves Thanksgiving dinner). Misty, cool, sweater-wearing late November rocks. But having just had my in-laws over for an outdoor brunch where nobody needed a sweater (heck, the baby didn't even need pants), and knowing that the pool at the gym won't be chock full of camp goers tomorrow like it was allllll freaking summer long...well, that rocks X 1,000.

Sure, sometimes I'm envious of people who live where the trees actually change colors instead of just going naked all of a sudden (Maggie), or where it snows occasionally (Dedi & Miriam), or even where it snows way too much (Richmans), but on a day like today, I just can't complain. And that's saying something.

Dear Play School: Will You Marry Me?

Just a quick update: play school ROCKS. There were some tears when I tried to make the kiddo stand still in front of our house for a photo op, but once we actually got to school, it was all "let's see how many toy trucks I can fit in my mouth" and "look how hard I can though gravel at that kid!"

Yes, I'm a very proud parent.

Samson loved it, and of course I had to drag him away from the toy vacuum cleaner when it was time to leave. Neither of us can wait to go back.

School Days

The kiddo starts school tomorrow.

What, what? Is he even two yet?

No. He is 22.5 months old, and has already been accepted to Harvard. Lucky us!

The thing that starts tomorrow, the thing that we have been referring to as "school" is actually two two-hour days per week of throwing sand, riding trikes and eating play dough. It's kind of like junior preschool, or maybe play school. It's also a parent cooperative, so he's someone else's problem now, in addition to my own. It takes a village, right? It's less casual than a playgroup, but not as advanced as preschool. My hope is that it will a great place to learn new and exciting ways to tire him out and that we can all make some friends who won't soon tire of listening to me talk about being the parent of a toddler. Because that's pretty much all I talk about these days

I haven't really considered this to be any bigger of a deal than swim lessons, baby gym, or any other regularly-scheduled, paid enrichment activity we've done so far, but as tomorrow edges closer, I'm definitely feeling like my little baby is somewhat less of a baby these days--which is, of course, bittersweet.

State Unfair

I could write 50 million blog posts about the fun things we did in Minneapolis, and it would still fall criminally short of describing the actual amount of fun we had. It was awesome. Stupendous. Heart warming. Impossible to describe with mere words or even with 748 photographs. But here are some highlights.



Fried macaroni and cheese on a stick!





Delicious.





Apple picking.





A friendly goat named Putz.





The high score of the day for Whack a mole!

Damn Sqirrels

Remember last Spring when I talked about our cracker jack plans for a garden? Well, we did end up with some fairly edible prizes to show for our labor. We ended up planting tomatoes (3 different kinds!), kakai pumpkin, black simpson lettuce, carrots, and approximates 42,000 strawberry plants. For a few months, everything was great--we harvested a bunch of lettuce, about 12 mamma mia tomatoes, a dozen or so strawberries, and had one heck of a pumpkin just sitting there, growing.



Then the squirrels caught on to or master plan. They found out that we intended to actually eat the foods that we grew, and they got together at their annual squirrel convention and came up with 14 different diabolical plans: each and every one culminated in them eating the veggies before we could enjoy them. For the last two weeks, as soon as a tomato turns even slightly orange, it's gone. The pumpkin was devoured, along with all of the lettuce and every single strawberry as soon as it showed any sign of turning red.



Or maybe it's the raccoons. Either way, I am pissed. And apparently, my cat is in on the deal. I mean, it's not like I ask much of him. Does a cat really need two eyes in order to spot, chase, and possibly eat a freaking squirrel?

At the very least, we have an herb garden on the back porch, growing in huge terra cotta pots: parsley, basil, rosemary, mint, thyme, oregano, thai basil, sage, cilantro, and chives. It would appear that our resident critters aren't fans of vibrantly flavored leaves and aromatic sprigs. There's no accounting for taste.



We had such grand plans for all of our lovely tomatoes. I'm glad we got to try a few of them, but it's very disheartening. This was our first attempt at gardening, and I hate to think that we've been had by some overgrown chipmunks. I just don't have the energy or desire to build fencing or anything other than watering and fertilizing the plants, and even that is starting to seem pointless. If they would just leave me one strawberry, maybe I'd feel more industrious. At least they haven't started digging the carrots out yet. We've been able to harvest about 7 or 8 tiny, yet delicious, little carrots. Sigh.

Cowboy Up

I loves me some animal cruelty. As long as it's adorable!

I'm not that innocent

Whoops! I did it again. And I'm not just saying that because I'm wearing my hair in pigtails with fluffy pink hairbands.

I let a whole week go by without blogging about the wonders of my life, the joys of raising the kiddo, the unending saga of Ozzy's general health and well being. For shame! How will I be able to sleep at night knowing that I have deprived you, my tens of readers, a regular inlet to my existence? Like this: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I've been dealing with the realization that all of my pictures from February to August of 2009 up and left my computer. Poof. Gone. Abracadara, you're screwed. Luckily, I seemed to have more or less fixed the problem, and will hopefully heed the lesson here, you know, the one about regularly backing up your important files? Riiight. That one.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go reassure Samson that yes, Nemo got taken away, and yes, his daddy will find him.

We went, we camped, we came home

It already seems like years ago, but we took Samson camping last Friday. He did really well, as well as can be expected of a 21 month old spending his first night in a tent on the ground. He and Ozzy were so good and listened so well, I was really astonished. They played in the dirt and ate hot dogs and marshmallows and had a blast all around. Of course, asking Samson to sleep in the tent was like asking him to sleep in a bouncy house. He basically ran around in circles, waving my head lamp, for an hour or so. Finally, we all fell asleep, and we stayed that way for most of the night. Kiddo woke up a handful of times, screamed his ever lovin' head off, then fell back asleep. The weather was great, nearly every campsite had young children in it (which meant that Samson was not the only one who showed off his late night screaming skills, thank goodness), and we really enjoyed using my folks' old camp gear. When a camp stove that's older than your older brother still works without a hitch, you know you're in for a good night.

Let's Get Dirty

Max and I are taking the kiddo camping tomorrow, and we're super excited. It will be Samson's first camping trip, Max's and my first camping trip together (wha? how is that possible?) and my first camping trip since the summer of 2000 (oh, that's how). We're going very close by, and only for one night--the perfect starter trip for a lapsed life-long camper. Between borrowing and renting, we won't be using any equipment of our own (which is good because we have none--the victims of many poorly planned moves). But who knows--if it's as much fun as I hope it will be, you may all want to buy REI stock real soon.

New World Order

A few weeks ago, Samson and I went to Portland to visit good ol' Dedi and spend some time with her toe headed progeny. We had great fun; everyone got enough sleep and took good naps, we beat the heat with a wading pool and a trip to the river. Auntie Mir was on hand to spoil the kiddos rotten. We even made s'mores. The best part, though, what the gift we got when we came home.

An obedient toddler.

Whaaaaa?

Well, obedient-ish. To be fair. But compared to pre-Portland Samson, this new kid is some kind of Catholic school honor student. Like, Mary Poppins couldn't improve on this guy. And it's all about being a no-nonsense, parent-channeling, voice-raising disciplinarian. As in SAMSON GET DOWN FROM THAT CHAIR RIGHT NOW but instead of your voice, it's the voice of a demon from hell that resides deep in your gut and hell yes I'll get down from this chair please don't eat me. Awesome!

I can't do it in public yet. Lord, no. Keeping a kid quiet at the grocery store is what videos on the iPhone are for. But when we're safely behind closed doors, I am a parenting force to be reckoned with. And all of a sudden, the cat can come out from his perpetual hiding place under the bed without the fear of a well intended but painful nonetheless toddler hug. I can finally keep the animals' water bowl in the kitchen without it doubling as a wading pool. He's definitely not perfect, but he keeps his grubby shoes out of the fish tank and things are just a little more manageable these days. Thanks, Dedi! Or rather, thanks, Dedi's mom!

My New Blog

To better reflect the direction my life seems to be going, I'm changing the name of this blog. The top contenders, in no particular order:

What Will Go Wrong With Ozzy This Week?
Crisis Mode
Blarrrrrrrrrrrg
Extra Super Crap

The other day, Ozzy began bleeding from his ear. A couple of trips to the vet and some super sonic ear surgery revealed a teeny tiny tumor on his ear drum, causing his ear canal to fill up with blood and spill forth from his giant doggy ear. Pathology reports are forth coming. Yay.

But there's no need to change our name, is there? My life is still Extra Super Fantastic, right? It's just a little pointy. And bleedy. And expensive. Right?

Right?

Whimper.

Just Call Him Lumpy

Of course the lumps are benign. And of course they aren't worth removing. And of course we can expect him to get more and more of them as he ages. It will be not unlike having a cuttlefish covered in fur as a pet. At least, I imagine cuttlefish to be lumpy to the touch. And to have horrible gas.

Lumps live on

Nanna's passing brought with it the end of fetching, the end of stick chasing, the end of the snoring dog. There is no more squirrel chasing, no heavy dog head, pressing against your knee and drooling while you sit on the couch, just waiting for you to glance down and catch a glimpse of the quick and low tail wag, and finally turn off the TV so we can go in the back yard and play.

And, so I thought, the end the of lumps. WRONG.

Recently, three suspicious lumps have popped up on Ozzy's not entirely lump-free body. In his 11 years, he's had two lumps. One was surgically removed, and the other was deemed benign and continues to chill on his ribcage. So I guess, historically, he's got a 50/50 chance that the vet will simply poke him with a needle and hand us a bill, and we won't have to discuss surgery or treatment options. We'll see in a few hours.

BBQ Sunday

Thank goodness for marriage. If it wasn't for marriage, Max and I wouldn't have flow to Brooklyn last April for my brother's wedding to a lovely girl from St. Louis. If we hadn't attended said wedding, we'd never have tasted the amazing BBQ that was served at the reception. Had we not tasted the aforementioned BBQ, we'd never have had the discussion about how much we LOVE barbecue with the bride's parents. And if we'd never had that conversation with the extra super fantastic couple from St. Louis, they wouldn't have found it necessary to send us an amazingly generous box of barbecue which we are currently preparing in our kitchen.

And that, dear friends, would have been a tragedy.

Turns out I wasn't ready

God bless Dramamine.

I'm Ready (nearly)

Well, I've got a carry on bag full of tiny toys wrapped and tied with ribbons, about four pounds of jelly beans and m&m's, and two ziplock bags full of goldfish and pretzels. I've downloaded Finding Nemo and Monters, Inc. to my iPhone, and I've got shiny red toenails. I'm ready for a vacation to sunny Portland! That's right, sunny. I used to love those hot Oregon summers, and I can't wait to spend a few days complaining about the heat with two of the best people I know (plus a couple of cute little toddlers). All I have to do now is get through the airport and plane ride without losing my shit. Whee!

Missing the girl

I've really been missing Nanna this week. Thanks to a crazy busy pace of life, I've been able to pretty much ignore the space left by her passing. I can just chalk Ozzy's increasingly troublesome behavior up to the fact that he is an increasingly troublesome dog, and pretend that my best doggie friend didn't die three months ago. But every so often, usually at dusk, when the sky is half dark blue and half pale orange, it just comes back--all at once. Heavily. Then she'll show up in a dream or two, or I'll read an old blog post about her...it's just not fair. And now I'm feeling all mopey.

Time to fly

While Max heads to Wyoming this weekend for a business trip, the kiddo and I are off to Portland to visit our peeps, both toddler sized and full grown. The flight to Portland is less than 2 hours, and it's the only one Samson and I have done solo before. Of course, last time, he was still in a Baby Bjorn. But this time, I'll have videos on my iPhone. Hooray for technology!

I'm the mommy, that's why

Samson's first three-word sentence:

"Bye-bye, duck shoe."

Nice try, kiddo. You'll be wearing duck feet for as long as I can physically overpower you or emotionally blackmail you. That is, you'll be wearing duck feet forever.

Add it up

This is my 700th post on ESF. Like, wow, man. Another fun fact: ESF will be 5 years old next month. If this blog were a kid, it would be starting kindergarten in the fall. Also, it would be named Horace.

700 posts. I feel like this post should have some real substance to it, something worthy of such a milestone-ish event. However, it is more likely that it will reference something cute the kid has done, maybe have a photo of said cute kid, and you will leave disappointed and never return. Such is life.

So I bought the kid a pair of slippers today, and they are duck feet. How awesome is that! So, combined with his super hero pajamas, I give you: Bat Duck.



Now, as a gift to me on this the day of my 700th blog post, please ignore the mess in the picture. I really need to be tidying up the house instead of writing on my blog, ha ha.

They'll fry your cat and put it on a stick if you ask nicely

To celebrate the birthday of this great nation, we booked our flight out to the Midwest to visit the Richmans in Minneapolis--also known as the PLACE WHERE THEY HAVE THE MINNESOTA STATE FAIR. Is there anything more patriotic than a giant vegetable contest or a deep fried Twinkie? No, there is not.

We also partook in a more traditional method of celebration, the preparing and eating of much foodstuffs. While it was mainly a grilling-and-beer sort of weekend, the baking arts were also well represented. Friends from San Diego came to visit, bearing the Greatest Pecan Pie ever, and I fell under the annual spell of ripe peaches at the supermarket and whipped up a Paula Deen peach cobbler. Because, you know, butter runs through my veins.

We made it out to pancake breakfast, but couldn't keep the kiddo awake long enough for fireworks--maybe next year. We did manage to fit in a trip to the beach on Sunday morning, as evidenced by the wet and (more than a little) stinky dog who spent the afternoon lounging in the sun in the backyard. I'm going to call it a successful holiday weekend all around.

Whoops

Oh, crap. I almost let another week go by without posting. because I've been so, eh, busy. yes. Ahem.

Max was out of town last week, we went to Tahoe with the Whittens over the weekend, and now I'm counting the days until the holiday weekend (one). Swim lessons, playgroups, lunch dates with Grandma, and lots and lots and LOTS of yard work.

Whew! I'm exhausted just typing about it.

This post is not about Michael Jackson

We're off to Tahoe this weekend. Going to take the kiddo on some little hikes, play at Donner Lake, spend some time with our good pals before they have a munchkin of their own and turn into sleepwalking milk factories for a few months before regaining their (severely demented) sense of self. Fun!

Max has been in NYC this week. Despite his being sorely missed by his doting wife and child, this is one of the better single mom weeks that Samson and I have spent together thus far. It's partially because of the kisses--finally! Now when he comes at me with his mouth, it's not to bite me--and partially because of his unbridled enthusiasm for, well, just about everything. Any question I ask him is answered with a wide-eyed, emphatic "yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaah" along with a nice head nod. And there's nothing more fun than driving around, pointing out every bus ("Bus! Bus! Bye, bus. Bye."), train, truck, and car we pass. It's been a really terrific week with him. Hooray for us!

Back to life

After two weeks--no, wait, let me rephrase that. After TWO FREAKING WEEKS of the runniest nose you ever did see on a 19 month old, Samson has finally been allowed back at the child care center at the gym.

Oh, happy day, oh glory of glories, oh magical moment where I park the stroller, usher him through the door that leads to plastic castles and tiny cars, and close the door without EVER LOOKING BACK, oh how I missed you. Even the stupid exercising part, which I suppose must be doing my body some good, because after my enforced two week hiatus, today my arms felt like wet noodles and my legs like rubber bands. Even typing this post hurts my abs a little.

The actual cold only lasted 3 days. What a three days it was, mind you--cranky, sleepless nights, green snot, all the fun stuff. But for two weeks after that, the kid was spunky, energetic, and just fine. Except for the never ending river of yellow mucus flowing freely from his nostrils. It was, of course, during this time that he decided to begin calling me "mommy," except it sounded more like "bumby" or "nummy." For a while, the word morphed into "mummitz," which has to be the coolest mommy nickname ever, right? I mean, I nearly went to the DMV to secure my vanity plate.

But he's been snot free since Friday, so I felt it was safe to return to the child care center, without the fear that I would be scolded in front of the other mommies whose children did not look like booger monsters. It's not (heh heh) that I would choose to infect other kids just so I could get an hour away from the boy, don't get me wrong. It's just that the pediatrician swears up and down that after 3 days of no fever and no green snot, toddlers are not contagious, and that even so, the runny nose can last for 2-3 weeks. But I've seen the child care center ladies give other parents their runny nose tongue lashings, and, while I don't blame them necessarily, it's hard to forgo that one hour a day where Samson is somebody else's problem.

He also learned how to blow his nose during the "illness," although he hasn't quite mastered the connection between nose blowing and the use of kleenex. Which was extra adorable at swim class last week. Ahem.

Almost, but not quite

Wow, it sure is easy to slip back into that whole never blogging mentality again. But I caught myself just in time. And I will make up for it with a blast from the past. Prepare to have your mind photographically blown, yo.

Remember this guy?



How about him?



And then there's this guy.




And who could forget Mr. Mustachio?



That was fun!

Fairyland Friday

Max took the day off today and we braved the marine layer and went to Fairyland in Oakland. Fun! I have distict memories of coming here as a kid--there are boxes in front of the little fairytale sculptures and playhouses what not and you get a special plastic key which activates the boxes so you can here the story that goes with the exhibit. Very cool. So we paid our extra $2 for the plastic key, and when it had a crown for a handle, I commented on how I remember it having an elephant for a handle. That's when the ticket taker lady through my already shaky memory neurons into a tailspin by informing me that the elephant keys were for the zoo, and that Fairyland had always had crown keys.

I was literally speechless for a moment as my brain replayed a handful of my childhood memories and tried to accept the fact that they were incorrect. I mean, once she said it, it made sense. Why would an elephant be the mascot of a fairy tale themed park, anyway? Nonetheless, I felt betrayed. I'm pretty sure that blue plastic elephant key had been my prized possession at some point.

But I'm strong, my inner child is resilient, and we proceeded to have a fine day chasing the kiddo around the brightly painted park, stopping to point out every pigeon ("Duck!") and to climb inside many a tiny house. Behold:







There was also some running in the grassy fields around Lake Merrit:



Even more fun ahead this weekend with all kinds of out-of-town friends and family. Uncle Paul and Aunt Kristy are here from Brooklyn, and Auntie Mir is here from Portland. Hooray for airplanes!

It's Just That Kind of Day

Yes, that's a toddler shoe in the fish tank. Sigh.

Fire it Up

In my book, summer is officially here. We barbecued not once but twice today, had fresh fruit for breakfast and dessert, and we walked to the farmer's market this morning. That's about as summer a day as you can get. And the best part is this ridiculous bread and sauce that they sell at the market...it's so good that I might short out my laptop from salivating.

It all comes down to the food. Holidays, special events, seasons, milestones. I may not remember much of what the Rabbi said at my son's bris, but I'll never forget the chicken livers my mom made.

Speaking of my son, we went to the park yesterday to feed the ducks.



Apparently, since I was a child, someone has replaced all of the ducks with geese. Ozzy was vigilant and protected us from these giant birds of prey.



Samson had fun, switching between goose poop inspection and the jungle gym.



I know, you're all, what? She blogged twice in one week? And posted pictures?? What gives?

My dedication. To you. That's what gives.

A Blog! I Have One!

The other night, I wished and wished and wished and wished for a blog of my very own. And then I was all, oh crap.

Just watch as I start paying attention to my blog again. I'm ready. Seriously. Why are you laughing?

It's hard to concentrate with all of these wounds. These, toddlerific, bite-sized wounds. On my leg. And my shoulder. And my chest. Ow.

Just waiting for the red velvet cupcakes to cool so I can frost them (don't get all excited, they're Hungry Girl.). And then eat six of them before bedtime.

Toddling around the capitol

So we decided to drive to Sacramento for Max's birthday, mainly so we could stop at the outlet mall for some much needed retail therapy. You haven't seen a place until you've seen it with a toddler: Fairytale Town, Funderland, Sutter's Fort, Rick's Dessert Diner--plus, you run everywhere you go.



We had a great time--until Samson was attacked by an unruly display shelf in the Train Museum in Old Town. Note to museum staff: when directing a couple with a toddler to "the most toddler friendly area in the museum," and you go on and on about the Thomas the Tank Engine play area, you might also want to mention the low hanging shelves that line the walls in the 15 feet between the elevator and the play area. The low hanging shelves which are just about the height of a toddler head. With really sharp and pointy corners. I'm just saying.

So we didn't actually make it to any other part of the train museum that day; when the bump on Samson's forehead grew larger and larger before my eyes until it was the size and color of a small plum, we headed straight to the hospital. He's fine, it's only a goose egg, but we did decided to cut our trip short and head back to the Bay after that.

Luckily, we'd had a really nice time the day before--including an actual dinner out, the first in a looooong time. The biggest gun in my keep-the-toddler-quiet-in-the-restaurant arsenal these days is yogurt.



I said keep him quiet, not keep him clean.

I can only say I'm sorry

Apparently, I haven't gotten any better at managing my time wisely, nor have I found a way to increase my energy to that of a toddler's. By the time he goes to bed, I have exactly enough energy to eat dinner, do the dishes, click a few buttons on the remote control and drag my sorry ass to bed. And it doesn't get any better in there; my dreams are weak interpretations of my slumber time environment or variations of the previous days events. For example, last night I dreamed about rich old ladies who lost their money at a grocery store (basically a re-do of the Law & Order: Criminal Intent episode I have watched on the DVR before bed), and about large, fluffy, black goats that had invaded our yard and wouldn't go away...all while Milhouse traipsed around the living room above my head, making infinitely more noise than a 12 pound cat out to be able to make.

WEAK.

I did, however, plant a ton of strawberries (literally. two thousand pounds of strawberry plants.) while Samson napped today, and yesterday I uploaded pictures of our recent comings and goings (like this one) and of the garden and its Springtime glory. So all is not completely lost.

Keep it moving

New York was a success, although I may have given you a different answer had you asked me on the airplane. Samson was a champ, the wedding was beautiful, and my diet was blown to hell.

Palm Springs--now that's some serious vacationing. Three days of girls only, no babies, low-cal cocktails and a nice shimmering pool. A girl could get used to this.

I promise, I swear, pictures soon and fun tales of bright lights, big cities and the Viceroy Hotel to come.