All He Needs Is A Cape

Last night I told my son he was my hero.

My boys

We cuddled in his bed after a long day, and very quietly he asked me a question that stopped my heart.

Mom, why am I different from the other kids at school?

We talked about how amazing he is, and how smart and wonderful. We talked about how well he is doing in school, and his many, many friends.

We talked about how everyone says he’s brilliant, and bright… and how well he handles himself. How he’s a leader, and so very sensitive and caring.

And then I told him he was my hero, and he smiled like I have never seen him smile before.

This morning as we walked into school he stopped on the stairs before entering his classroom. He grabbed my shirt, which happens to say ‘I love Jack,’ and grinned that huge grin again.

It’s great being different, because I get you.

Can you take me all the way into class? I want everyone to see your shirt. Because I’m a hero.

A Gift

Driving in the Momvan last night my daughter asked me if animals died like people die.

This is a frequent conversation in our home lately, stemming from my rash of hospital stays and influx of relatives and friends helping to care for me and mine.

She wanted to know if animals lost their colons and uterus too. If they stayed in hospital beds, and if their animal families could visit them.

We arrived at our destination and my son unbuckled and laid his head on my shoulder. He didn’t have to say a word, I knew he just needed to be near me. Death talk does that to him.

My husband, the rock as of late, has been shouldering more weight than I can bear to watch. And after discussions of funerals and what I would wish, and wills and advance directives and how he would cope as a widower, I crumbled inside to put such a burden on those I love.

The pit of my stomach hasn’t been filled with dread over my health, it’s been filled with dread over what my health as done to those around me. It’s gnawed at me with a fierceness. I’m the one who should be caring for them, and it’s very hard for me to play the role of invalid.

But today, I finally got to lift some of that weight. The specter of death hovering in my daughter’s head. The anxiety in my son’s mind. The uncertainty in my husband’s heart.

Remission.

The doctor said remission. And in his office I broke down, and he touched my shaking hands, and he assured me Lupus was, indeed, in it’s cage, locked.

The long road that started with a hospital stay in August of 2009, the tests at UCLA where I ate radiation, the bowel rest hospital stay, the exploratory surgery, the Mother’s Day hospital stay that broke my heart, the colon and gall bladder surgery where my kids were not allowed to see me, the emergency room visit where I cried in anger at the sky because I was again hooked up to tubes and ivs, the total hysterectomy where I mourned my womanhood, and the diagnosis where we stood dumbfounded and planned my death…now, finally…

Remission.

I feel like I have been given a gift I don’t deserve, but my family does. I feel like the world is different in so many ways. I feel like I owe so many people so much…but most of all I owe these people around me the world.

And I will deliver.

Because Someone Has To, So It Starts With Me

I’ve noticed something over the course of the past few days…you can’t change anyone’s mind.

On anything.

Ever.

You can present facts, and point out flaws in arguments, and you can yell and scream and stomp…but in today’s political climate lines in the sand have been drawn and heels are firmly dug in and not moving.

After 24 hours of using several different approaches to talk to Tea Party types, there really is no hope. They really, truly, believe I am a Communist ugly feminist man hater and I truly believe they are uninformed, racist, fear-mongers. They think I’m unAmerican and not a patriot, I think they are sowing the seeds of violence and ignorance.

And that is just how it is.

So now that I have resigned myself to this sadness, where do we go from here? November is coming and it’s getting nasty. It is going to get much worse before it gets any better. Tensions are running high, each side wants to win.

I’m worried we don’t survive this as a country. This is unlike anything I have ever seen. Passions are so high and people are so convinced THEY are right, I fear what they will do. Currently the Tea Party rhetoric says ‘Take Back Our Country” … and I keep asking, from whom? Other Americans?

We need to find a way to stop the screaming and fear. We need to find a way to work together before people get hurt, because they are getting hurt already. Both sides have documented violence. Both sides need to loudly condemn that violence.

Or we can continue to call names and point fingers. I mean, this is the route even I went down after becoming so very frustrated with the discourse my head exploded. But it gets us nowhere and does no good. And if only one side makes the effort to have civil discourse, and the other continues to just yell the loudest … who will Americans listen to? Do we risk losing because we took the high road?

I refuse to forgive or forget the nasty name calling and hate going on, but I also know we can’t keep going like this. This country is going to implode, and I worry for my kids and for my nation.

We need leaders and cooler heads to prevail right now, I’m not sure I’m one of them. I do think our President is one…but he needs to be louder. Are you one? Are you speaking calmly and rationally about the issues to your friends, family, and neighbors or are you spiraling down the rabbit hole many of us are…turning from talking points to shouts and name calling? What can YOU do to raise the level of conversation right now with those you oppose…not to change their minds, we know that won’t happen, but to at least keep the peace?

I’m not sure any of this is possible, we may be too far gone…but I feel we need to try.

And it starts with me.

I am pledging to be calmer, to try not to lose my temper, and to refrain from name calling.

Join me. And call me out if I lose it. And I have a feeling I may lose it more than I care to admit.

Will anyone from the other side join me? I am doubtful, for whatever their reasons may be. They might not think I am sincere, which is fine. So be it. But at least I floated it out there in the universe…for everyone’s sake. They might think I’m acting just like a typical liberal, being all huggy and lovey while there is a war being waged. The problem is we’re having that war with each other, fellow Americans. This is your country just as much as it’s my country. This is MY country too, although you don’t think I’m a real American.

But it doesn’t matter…if nothing else I will know I tried and I will know I did it for the right reasons…these two:

I'm the zombie. They are the pea shooters

They will know I fought hard, but I fought fair. If it means we lose because I fought fair, that is the price I pay.

But I guess, in some ways, that means I win.

Dog Weddings.

photo.JPG

This was the scene in the back seat just moments ago as the puppy and the kindergartener looked at the clouds outside and imagined shapes.

I think that one looks like a parakeet, what do you think Nicky?

And all was well and good.

Until…

Mommy, how do puppies like Nicky get made? I mean, how do they get born?

Cough.

Something something penis. Something something vagina. Something something mostly just like people.

But Mommy, do they have to get married firsts? Do puppies get married?

This is where I realized I had failed my little girl. Or not. She clearly thinks babies only get made if you are married and we all know that’s not exactly true.

While I would love to keep her from sex for as long as possible, I realize that is not practical or fair to her. She should be sexually aware and active when she’s mature enough and ready, and it has nothing to do with holy matrimony.

But if I lied, and she continued to believe babies are only made by married people…would it really be soooooooo bad? Cue evil thoughts.

In the end I told her the truth. Damn my truth telling ways.

No honey, puppies don’t get married. And lots and lots of people with babies don’t get married. All families are different, remember? Not everyone is just like us.

I know Mom. But I like our family the best. I want my bruddur and I wish I could marry him but I can’t so maybe I will marry my new friend Nicole.

That’s just fine honey. You marry who you love or don’t marry at all… and have babies or don’t have babies. It’s all up to you.

It’s up to me? Wow.

TICKLE FIGHT

TICKLE FIGHT!!!!!

This is what you should be doing today.

Zombies Love Kids

It’s not that I’d say we have a zombie fetish around here lately…

Zombies say wut? Lol @aaronvest

Ok fine. We do. And shockingly it’s NOT my zombie-loving husband’s fault.

It’s mine.

I introduced the kids to Plants vs. Zombies on the iPhone, to take us away from Angry Birds every so often. Now it’s zombie-mania around here.

I’m not sure if this is good or bad. You see, I hate scary stuff. I mean, I HATE IT. While picking out decorations for our home for Halloween, I’m the Mom that goes for those really cute ghosts and ‘BOO’ signs. The kids? They are now asking for graves. Zombie arms sticking up from our lawn. Chainsaws.

This can’t be good.

Or maybe it’s awesome.

I’m confused.

Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnsssssss

A Piece of Me

If you’ve hung out with me at all over the course of the past year or so, odds are you have something to remember me by.

My hair has been falling out steadily for a good 18 months or so. It’s on your laptop bag. It’s on your backpack. It’s on your sweater. If you’ve hugged me it’s probably on your shoulder.

today's hair loss. suck it lupus

Sorry about that.

Turns out this Lupus thing makes my hair thin. Who knew? It was always just a bit of a joke around here. I shed. I would shed and we would laugh.

ha ha look more hair!

But I’ve noticed something lately that isn’t as funny. I can see the spots on my scalp. Now, Aaron assures me I’m the only one who can see them, but I can see them.

Maybe it’s all in my mind. But I swear my part is very… party. Bigger. Whiter.

So now with the usual vitamins and meds, I’ve taken to hat buying. Because what’s a girl to do who’s scalp is monstrously thinning but buy cute hats? My Mom suggested I cut my hair, so I’m not brushing it as much … but I like that at least my hair coming out the back of a hat looks normal.

Maybe I’m over-reacting.

Maybe it’s really not as bad as I’m imagining and it’s just given me something to focus on. Maybe this very thin line of hair on my scalp is yet another very vain and silly bump in this summer filled with hospitals and I need to just get over it.

Or buy more hats.

Time

It's a good day when I can do this

The clock is my biggest enemy as of late. In a day where I usually have nothing to do but pick up or drop off children, you’d think the clock would be my friend. But no.

Either I’m too tired and need a few extra minutes before I get back in the car, or I’m too anxious and lonely and need the clock the move faster so my babies are home in my arms.

I stare, wondering if I can make the hands move so my husband can leave work. I pace in the kitchen waiting impatiently for the rest of the meal to cook, so we can all sit down together and talk about our days.

Not enough or too much – the clock taunts me all day long.

And then there are those stolen moments, that only last a second or two but feel like a lifetime. My son asks me to test his new invention or my daughter asks me to cuddle on the couch with her. We all melt into each other and inhale as if we have nowhere to go and nothing to do.

It passes and we exhale … the tv seems loud again and the dog runs and jumps to tackle us all .. but not before I lock another moment in my mind, cursing and thanking the clock ticking overhead.