The Mess Monster

On Monday afternoon I found something trying to devour our belongings: A Mess Monster. Luckily, I caught it in a bag before it could eat anything, but...

NOT BEFORE IT STOLE--AND HID--OUR BROWNIES!!!

Has a mess monster ever come to your house? They are attracted to mess as ants are attracted to sugar. And our house was messy. The monster gave us the following terms and conditions:

1.  Clean up your mess in fifteen minutes.

2.  If you do, I'll release my secret message. You Win!

3.  If you don't, all remaining mess is MINE to eat,

and goes in this garbage bag with me. I Win!

I explained the situation to the family after dinner. John said, "This is going to be fun!!" Noelle said, "Monster!" Liam said, "I'm very disappointed." We were pretty sure we could win this contest.

Dad set the kitchen timer to fifteen minutes, and we got to work cleaning up our messy house as fast as we could. It was the fastest I've ever seen John work. Poor Liam was genuinely scared of the monster. He was huddled in a chair, wrapped in his blanket and clutching his pillow pet. I soon realized I would have to stop cleaning and console him.

When the fifteen minutes were up, John took the monster around the house to prove that we had cleaned it. Reluctantly, he handed over his secret message. We were all hoping that it would lead us to our brownies.

This is what it said:

A Monster's Riddle

Deep within a closet you'll see

Linens stacked high so cozily.

We use them to dry after we bathe or swim,

Or cover ourselves when the lights are dim.

Tucked inside the thickest of these,

You'll find your precious fudgy brownies.

The following video is a reenactment of the reading (it actually took John longer to decipher the riddle), but shows the true and actual finding of the brownies:

We found our brownies, ate them, and had a thoroughly enjoyable evening together (except for Liam).

He only looks innocent.

A Day at the Park

Today we went to the park for John's soccer practice. He'll have practices twice a week this year, so I really hope that most of them go better....

~~~~~~

As I back the car out of the garage to head to soccer practice, we notice that it's starting to rain. I decide we'll go anyway - maybe the rain will stop soon.

Luckily, the rain does stop as we drive to the park. Though, I wonder if it will catch up to us while we're there.

We get there; I park the car. John can't seem to get past his sister's oversized boots to get out of the car, but somehow he makes it out the door. He then closes the door, which makes Noelle cry because she wants to get out.

I get the two little kids out of their carseats and we start off towards the playground. Liam runs the wrong way, and I call him back.

Noelle wants us all to run. I start to jog, and think, "This is fun!" Until Noelle stumbles over her boots and skins her knee. I scoop her up and tell Liam we have to go back to the car for a bandaid.

Except I know there are no bandaids in the car... but then remember that Jeremy's car is here, too. He's coaching John's team this year. I first unlock my car, get a key for his car, then get the first-aid kit from it, telling myself that I really need to put a first-aid kit in my car.

I clean Noelle's scrape with a baby wipe and apply a bandaid. All is well. We once again head towards the playground.

Noelle wants to run again, but I caution her to be careful. "Yes," she says, and she is careful this time. 

It takes a while, but we get to the playground. Liam runs toward the swings and Noelle shouts, "Park! Yes! Yes!!" I push them both on the swings for a while. My heart skips a beat once when Noelle lets go and nearly flips backward out of the swing. "Keep your hands holding on," I tell her. "Yes," she replies, and keeps her hands on the rest of the time.

Noelle wants to get out and go on the slide. I encourage her to go by herself, because she has before, but she doesn't want to. So I tell Liam I'll be right back.

I take Noelle over to the steps of the playground structure, and feel a drop of rain. We go down the slide together, then I take Liam out of the swing because it's raining more now. 

I wonder if we should go back to the car. We'd get soaked just getting there, so I decide to seek shelter in the diminutive playhouse on the playground. Noelle and I sit inside, but Liam runs in and out, absolutely loving the rain. He laughed, yelled, and ran all over the playground. He even used his invented explative (which I love): "Oh, gurgally! It's raining!!"

I was a pleasure to watch. Until he slipped and skinned his elbow. By now the rain was light enough that we could come out from our shelter and go back to the car. I carried Noelle because she didn't trust the wet ground.

On our way, we stopped to pet a dog, and Noelle was surprised to get a wet hand from his fur. "Wet! Fingers." On our way again, I explained to the children that we would not be going back to the playground again; it was too late. The expected protests, including Noelle's plead for more "fwide."

Once back at the car, I repeated the bandaid routine, this time on Liam. I noticed he had been throwing fistfulls of wet, coarse sand at the car. I asked him to stop and get in the car. He bolted. I quickly sat Noelle in her seat, noticed the police car stopping behind me, and ran after Liam.

Now, a year ago I might have told you I was glad not to have one of those autistic kids who runs. But that was a year ago. Lately I've been getting practice at handing Noelle to someone so I can chase him down. Today, as I ran back towards the park in the drizzling rain towards my boy, I was grateful for the random timing of that police car to watch my little girl (and be there if who knew what else happened with my son), but also a little self-conscious. Also grateful I had on my running shoes.

I caught up with him and picked him up. To protest, he smeared his wet sand-coated hands across my neck and down my shirt, kicking and screaming of course. I carried him back, buckled his seatbelt (thank goodness for that five-point harness), and waved as the police car drove away. I buckled Noelle in and then tried to wipe wet sand off myself with baby wipes, to limited success. 

Jeremy and John are coming towards us, and Jeremy yells a message to me. He didn't hear me answer, and yelled again. And again. "OK!!" I yelled, in my mean voice. Oops. The boys both have echolalia (repetitive speech) so this sometimes gets to me.

We drive home, and I think about asking Sarah, our autism consultant, what can be done about running behaviors. We pull into the garage, and Liam says this isn't our home (he knows it's ours, he just doesn't want to be here). Then he refuses to get out of his car seat. So I leave him there and get Noelle and our stuff into the house. I come back to the garage and Liam has decided to get our and look at the bird's nest in our tree. Noelle comes out, too, and we all look at the nest as Jeremy and John drive up.


Then things got a little more normal.

The Post-Cancer-Mom Life

I really like what Tiffany at Leaving it All on the Field had to say on Mother's Day back in May. Like me, she is also living a post-cancer-mom life and realizing that things are not the same. Realizing that motherhood has been nothing like what she expected, but has taken her through the refiner's fire, teaching and shaping her into a better person. You can read her post here.

My post-cancer-mom life, short as it has been (just over three months), has been unexpectedly difficult. The day we got the news that cancer was gone, treatments were over, and Noelle's life was spared, I became immediately irritable and tense. Anxiety, insomnia, and general orneriness spiralled upward, not down. I was confused about where to go next. I felt guilty that I wasn't happier; that my husband was reacting in a more "logical" way than I was. It didn't make any sense... until I realized I was experiencing a form of PTSD. The first month was the worst, and the feelings are now gradually dissipating. I feel almost normal now. Almost.

But I don't blame myself for feeling that onslaught of tension. For an entire year, my mindset was on preserving the life of my daughter. Doing whatever -- whatever -- the doctors said. Keeping the rest of us going. It was pure survival with little time, energy, or reason for afterthought. But when that period suddenly came to an end, I was left with a gaping, bleeding wound. A broken heart. In three months, it's healed a lot, but I sense there is a lot of healing left to do.

A very comforting balm at this time has been a book about the Psalms by Jeffrey R. Holland, For Times of Trouble. I've been reading it in addition to my usually scripture study and have decided a) Elder Holland is wise and b) the Psalms are very, very comforting. Check it out.

Noelle, with hair again:

(that everyone thinks looks like boy hair)

GOOD FRIDAY!!

I am thrilled to be able to say that Noelle is officially in remission from cancer. We got the news on Friday, March 29. It wasn't a total shock for me, as I had had some inklings that it would be so. It was Good Friday so the boys were home from school. When we got home and I told John that Noelle's cancer was all gone, he screamed "YAAAY" at the top of his lungs and was in a great mood all day.

That morning, I had taken the boys to an Easter egg hunt at the park organized by the moms from church. I was so grateful for that, since it distracted me from the anxiety I would otherwise have felt. Thursday, the day before, I had been so anxious that I don't know how many calories I consumed as I ate ALL DAY LONG. I'm an emotional eater!

The previous two weeks had been exhausting ones, taking care of all her post-treatment scans and tests. There was a CT scan, a bone scan (which took 1.5 hours), an echocardiogram, and a bone marrow biopsy. I was very grateful to have my good friend Allie there for one of those weeks. Those days at the hospital were almost -- if not equally -- as tiring as chemo days. But definitely more stressful, since the results of the tests would determine whether our future would be happy or hellish.

On the big day, Jeremy met me and Noelle at the hospital for our appointment with her oncologist. We already knew that the two scans had come back with no new tumors, and just needed to hear about the bone marrow (which was good) and whether the surgeon thought we should biopsy the site again. We were fortunate to see our surgeon right there in the clinic and speak to him personally. There has been an area showing up in scans that people were questioning, but the surgeon maintains that it is just the patch he put in Noelle's abdominal wall. Our oncologist said all the other oncologists also agree with that, so they will not biopsy it.

We also went over side effects of chemotherapy. The echocardiogram was to look at her heart and see if any damage had resulted, which thankfully hadn't. Other effects down the road could be impaired lung function and infertility. The site of radiation will have its own side effects, but the oncologist isn't an expert in that area. Noelle will be followed by a radiation oncologist to watch for long-term effects there.

We went over her post-treatment schedule and discussed taking out her central line. She'll get a scan every three months for a few years, and then they become less frequent. The central line can come out as soon as her counts normalize (which would have been sooner if not for an infection she got this week!).

It was also Liam's birthday that Friday (though we celebrated the week before), and so I took the kids to a toy store because John wanted to get him a present. It was Noelle's first time in a place like that, and it felt so strange to me to take her out! She ate it up though, going from toy to toy, trying everything out! It was one of those small boutique stores. I think I just darted from place to place putting things back that the kids got out. I was glad we were the only ones in there!

By the end of the day, I was pretty wiped out, but in a pretty good mood. It was a Good Friday indeed and one I'm sure we won't forget.

The Little Lady with her baby, on Palm Sunday.

Has it really been since August?!

I knew it had been a while since I wrote anything, but I didn't realize it was almost six months. Um, wow. Do I still have any readers left? :)

Today is a little slower. I'm in bed with a 100 degree fever, with Liam laying next to me and coming in at 104 degrees. Last night he woke us up a couple times shaking with chills and breathing with a high-pitched rasp, and I thought of RSV. It's been going around our city; in fact, last time Noelle was supposed to get chemo there were so many kids in the hospital with RSV that we had to get her chemo outpatient. Naturally, I am fearing that Noelle will catch this from Liam and end up hospitalized. So Jeremy and I are doing what we can to keep them apart, which means he doesn't go to work. Tomorrow we may hear back on Liam's nose swipe, and depending on what he has, we'll know how much to be scared!

So that's today. But why haven't I written anything in almost six months? Since I was in Houston with Noelle? Apparently I've been busy. I know I've been tired. I've had plenty on my mind. My kids like to kick me off the computer, and when they're gone or sleeping, I usually try to do the same.

Noelle is looking really cute, by the way. Bald and cute. She's talking, too. Cute little words like Mama and Dada and Dah (John), ish (fish), pup (cup), Jusjus (Jesus), baba (bottle), baybeh (blanket), off, shoes, gocks (socks), teef (teeth), eyes, bow.... I've taken all kinds of pictures of her cuteness, but today I'm confined to my bedroom and this pictureless laptop. But check facebook.