Sharing My Experience

Every three weeks I go to the infusion center for my Herceptin. 

What is Herceptin? 

Herceptin (chemical name: trastuzumab) is a HER2 inhibitor targeted therapy. Herceptin works against HER2-positive breast cancers by blocking the ability of the cancer cells to receive chemical signals that tell the cells to grow. Breastcancer.org.

I don't actually get Herceptin, I get another drug called Kanjinti that is chemically similar and achieves the same result...and they have a copay assistance program which is a huge help financially. 

There is no denying that I am weird, crazy, insane...whatever, but I really do look forward to going to infusions. 

Even when I was getting chemo I looked forward to being there. The staff, nurses and doctors are some of the nicest poeple on the face of the earth. The aftermath of chemo was tough but the people are amazing. 

In anticipation of losing my hair, friends sent me fun hats to wear and I have continued to wear hats or outfits throughout the additional treatments. 

The staff has told me that get excited when they see my name on the roster! They even talk about what they think I'm going to do.

The infusion I had in March was the Friday before St. Patrick's day. I decided it was close enough to roll with that as a theme. . 

I found a really fun headband that blinked and a shirt that said, "Who Needs Luck, I have Charm"

As I was getting into my car I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, giggled and thought, "I love my life." 

And I do. I really do. 

Looking back at this past year one would questions my sanity. 

Seriously, it's been one shit sandwich after another but...I'm alive! 

I have so much to be grateful for! 

I have a loving hubby, two amazing boys, two incredible businesses, an amazing business partner, and incredible assistant and wonderful, loving friends. I'm on the downhill side of becoming a cancer survivor, I've met some of the most amazing people you can imagine and I have been able to make people laugh in the midst of the turmoil that is cancer treatment. 

Yes, I am blessed. 

I get to make people laugh. 

I look forward to those laughs. 

Working on outfits and themes gave me a purpose during chemo. I was able to focus on how I could be funny instead of feeling miserable. 

And now, I can be a guide for others who are starting on the path. 

I don't have answers but I do have experience that I can share. 

I recently went to see a friend who is going through chemo for ovarian cancer. Her chemo is a different cocktail than mine was but the acid reflux and nausea that it induces is the same. She had been eating Tums to no avail. I brought her a baggie of Gaviscon chewables and told her to take Nexium (after she'd checked with a pharmacist) because it had worked wonders on me. 

Guess what? It works for her too! The Gaviscon is a game changer. That stuff is a miracle in a chewable! 

We sat and talked a just bitched about the ravages of chemo on our bodies and the irritation of chemo brain - it's real people!

I was able to commiserate as I'd "been there done that" already and my experience was close enough to offer hope that this too shall pass and she can get on with life. 

I also gave her a super fun shirt. When she pulled it out of the little gift baggy I had stuffed it into she laughed. 

Making her laugh made my heart happy! 

Laughter Is Medicine

Going through chemo has been the most amazing and weirdest experience of my life. 

It has given me the ultimate excuse to unleash my weird but also has given me an appreciation for the importance of attitude and the need to laugh. 

Not just an LOL that we all use, that really means smiling softly to myself, but true "guffaw" style laughter that makes your stomach hurt and your eyes water. 

If you've known me for oh, like five minutes, you know that I have a really odd sense of humor and work really hard to not take myself seriously. But this experience has shown me that my attitude can, and does, have a direct impact on others. 

Whether other patients or the medical staff, I love to make people laugh. 

Two weeks ago I arrived at chemo dressed in a chicken headband and beak  - Chemo Chicken- and handed out slingshot chickens. I gave them to all the patients and the staff and watched as people shot them at each other. 

It was great fun. 

Patients told me last week that their kids and grandkids were still playing with the chickens! 

The staff has told me that they love when I come in and that, after a whole week of working with cancer patients, they look forward to my being there. 

Those words are the wind beneath my wings. (See what I did there?)

I love to help people and I love to know that I've had an impact. 

Don't we all. 

When all is said and done in this life, is the cleanliness of our house or the model of our car what people will remember or will it be how they felt when they were with us?

We all know that "Debbie Downer" (sorry if your name is Debbie) person who sucks the happy out of a room. I want to be the sunshine in the room. The person who makes people happy when they walk in. 

And why not? When they laugh, I laugh. Let's be honest here, sometimes I laugh the hardest. Did you know that laughter really is good medicine? 

No, really, it is! 

According to HelpGuide.com Laughter can: 

• Boost your immune system
• Relax you
• Release endorphins
• Improve heart health
• Reduce stress
• Burn calories 

Evidently I need to laugh more 'cause I got some pounds to lose. 

Seriously though, with all those benefits who wouldn't want to laugh more? 

But honestly, it can be really difficult. Not all circumstances are funny and, despite my propensity to do so, not everything is a laughing matter. 

The question that matters is: How can I improve this situation or the situation of the lives of the people around me? 

Recently, my best friend's mother passed away. Although it was sad to lose her, she lived a great, long life, was well loved by her enormous family and had a wonderful impact on everyone she ever met. 

At the funeral my friend had a tough time collecting herself. When I arrived she was surrounded by a bunch of people who were telling her to breath and trying to calm her. 

Yeah...worst thing ever! 

What she needed was "Vanessa's Crazy" to get her out of her own head, not advice on how to calm herself. She already knew she was our of sorts and didn't need to hear it. Telling someone they need to calm down, even when they do, is the worst. 

Truly, has anyone ever actually calmed down at the mention of their need to do so?  

I jumped in, inserted my wacky sense of humor (that we share) and in short order I had her laughing and joking and was able to help her get through the viewing and funeral. 

She has been there for me for most of my life and I was more than glad to help her through that day and others. We've been BFFs for almost 40 years. We know each other inside and out and all I have to do is call her, tell her I'm having a crappy day and before I know it we are laughing hysterically. 

Recently my "little" sister was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a double mastectomy today. It was a really long surgery, nearly 8 hours long, but is over and she is being moved ICU for the next night or two. 

While I have not been worried about the surgery I was VERY worried about the pathology. Working on becoming a cancer survivor myself, all I really cared about was what her margins are and whether or not her nodes were clear. 

I do not know about the margins or the rest of the surgical pathology yet, that may be weeks, but the nodes were clear! 

Whew! 

Now I can breath and she can get on with healing. 

Her surgery was much more extensive than mine so her healing time will be much longer and more complicated but, at least she's off to a good start. 

Because of the stupid virus, only her husband will be allowed to visit. In fact, she wasn't even allowed to have him there for the pre-op stuff. 

The stress of bein alone was horrible for her.

So, of course, I called her this morning and got her to laugh. We stayed on the phone talking about how much I tortured her when she was a kid, laughing of course, until her doctor came in. After that things moved quickly and before she knew it she was off to surgery. 

I will sleep a little better tonight knowing that my sister is through the surgery and resting well. There will be crappy days of tears and doubt ahead and I will hold her hand when possible or just be an ear on the other end of the phone. I also know the pain she is headed for and will be ready with funny memes and anecdotes to take her mind off things. 

Most importantly, I will make her laugh. 

Sucky Day

Today was an emotional roller coaster day and for no reason other than it just sucked. 

One minute I was ready to cry, the next I was ready to slap someone and then I'd be laughing about something. 

For. No. Reason! 

Well other than my whole world is going to change in six days. Yeah, that might have something to do with it. 

As if the roller coaster wasn't bad enough I was instructed by someone who meant well but told me to, "take a deep breath and count to 10." Really?! 

W. T. F?!?! 

This is not a patience thing. This is a massive body altering operation followed by chemo, which we all know sucks. I don't need patience I needed someone to say, "I'm so sorry. Days like this really do suck." 

Take a breath?! 

So I completely came unglued on the person. 

I then called them back to apologize and explain that in the future if you catch me in a mood like that giving me advice about calming down is the WORST thing a person could do. What I need in that moment is to be validated. 

As God is my witness, she replied with, "Well I do validate your feelings...but you do need to step back and take a breath." 

I hung up. 

I don't need advice. I didn't call for advice. I don't want advice. 

I needed a sounding board. I needed understanding. I needed someone who would take my mind off this mess and make me laugh. Change the subject. Talk about something stupid. Something menial whatever...just don't lecture. 

Yes, I am strong. Yes, I'm a fighter. Yes, I will get through this. 

Doesn't mean that I'm happy about it or that it will be a walk in the park. I do my best to stay in the here and now but sometimes what's coming pokes his head into my life to remind me that dark days are coming. 

Imagine being at the beach with a beautiful blue sky listening to the waves crash on the shore and a rain cloud suddenly comes over you and only you. Then it goes away, and comes back repeatedly. That was how I felt today. 

No amount of breathing made me feel better. And, well, I had to do it all day to stay alive. 

Having other cancer patients/survivors tell me they know how I feel made me feel better. 

Having people make me laugh makes the biggest impact! 

A friend messaged me today to see how I was and I replied, "It's an angry day. Some days are happy but today I just want to slap someone."

Later on when I left the shop to pick up the boys from school I got in my car, put the key in the ignition to start the car and found this on my windshield. 

Oh how I love my friends. 

Keep me laughing gang. 

Pacifically

As I mentioned in my last post, there was a "spot" on my spine that showed up on my bone scan. 

That set off a chain reaction that left me in bed all day on Saturday bawling my eyes out. 

It was bound to happen eventually and I did feel a little better afterwards. We really do need a good cry from time to time. 

A friend calls these Cancer Sucks days. 

So let me back track a bit here...

Got the bone scan results that said there was something there but felt that it was most likely degeneration. Then I had the breast MRI that showed the tumor being significantly larger than what they saw in the mammogram...I'll get to that shortly. 

My surgeon wanted to make sure that the spine thing wasn't a huge issue so she ordered an MRI. The insurance company declined to authorize it because I hadn't had an x-ray, because paying for an unnecessary x-ray makes sense, so I had an x-ray and that showed something there too. 

That was on Friday...then I waited again. 

The weight of what might be in my spine hit me on Saturday while I was out delivering cakes and I had a total meltdown. I got someone to cover my shift at the store, went home, crawled under the covers and stayed there crying and napping all day. 

Part of my pity party was because I hate pity parties!! The other was because I am competely powerless and felt like I was taking two steps back for every step forward. It's a roller coaster I wouldn't wish on anyone.

My prayers were frantic. I couldn't put a cohesive thought together and just kept saying, "God's got this." Honestly, I really do believe that but I got into my head and started the "what if I have bone cancer" game. Fortunately, the Lord knows my heart and even when I am depressed, angry or frustrated he really is holding me up. 

But, it doesn't mean I can't be pissed off or that I don't need a good cry! 

I managed to pull myself together in time to eat dinner then went back to bed. 

Monday rolled around and I met with the genetic counselor. It probably wasn't a waste of time, but it felt like it was. I had my mom's genetic report with me and after the counselor looked at it she said, "Your mom was negative for all seven of the genes that she was tested for. You most likely won't have the BRCA gene which is fantastic." I replied, "Well, considering that I have breast cancer it doesn't really matter now does it?" 😳

The appointment consisted of me telling the counselor my family history while she drew a flow chart. We have an $80 copay for specialists. So, I paid $80 for someone to write down my horrible family cancer history. I am a candidate for genetic testing but it's more money and well...it's more money. 

The worst part of the appointment was that no one bothered to tell me that I was going to be meeting with this counselor in an infusion center. The waiting room was filled with a plethora of other cancer patients in various stages of treatment. To get into the counselor's office I had to walk through the actual infusion area which I was definitely not ready for. I know, I know, I'll be there eventually and at that time I'll know I'm walking into an infusion center. It really was traumatic.  

That afternoon the radiologist's report came in confirming what the more advanced bone scan had already found. Although both radiologists felt it was degenerative, because of my breast cancer, they recommended an MRI with and without contrast. 

My nurse navigator got me right into Jennersville for an MRI on Tuesday afternoon. By this point I've had blood drawn, a nuclear injection for the bone scan and the injection for the contrast for the breast MRI all in my right arm. I had the nurse give me the injection for the contrast in my left arm and well, now I look like a junkie. 

Hot! 

Both the radiologist at Jennersville and the radiologist at Penn Medicine have read the MRI and confirmed that there is no cancer on my spine...it's arthritis. Yay for getting older. 

I met with my surgeon yesterday morning and surgery is confirmed for Monday, May 17. I won't know the time until the Friday before. 

She will be performing a double mastectomy with sentinel node biopsy. I have requested that she do an aesthetic flat closure that leaves no spare skin as I will not be having reconstruction. Surgery is expected to last approximately four hours depending on the sentinel node biopsies. If it comes back clear we are good to go. If not she'll have to take more. 

Now let's back up to the breast MRI...

The tumor was larger for a couple of reasons: 1. They can see it 3D in the breast MRI where the Mammogram is flat, because...that's how they make your boobs. 2. I have both invasive and non-invasive cancers in my right breast. Until they breach the duct walls and invade the breast tissue they are contained which means they are currently non-invasive. Non-invasive is considered Stage 0. 

All together the tumor is 6 cm but only 2 cm are invasive so I don't need chemo before surgery. If the invasive stuff was 4 cm or more, I'd do chemo first to shrink it and then have the surgery. 

In my last post I mentioned HER2. HER2-positive breast cancer is a breast cancer that tests positive for a protein called human epidermal growth factor receptor 2 (HER2). This protein promotes the growth of cancer cells. In about 1 of every 5 breast cancers, the cancer cells have extra copies of the gene that makes the HER2 protein.

Evidently, I'm the one out of five. 

Winner! 

Ugh! 

Now that we know I am HER2 positive my chemo plan will be a little more aggresive and I will be given Herceptin via infusion for a year. HER2 inhibitors work against HER2-positive breast cancers by blocking the ability of the cancer cells to receive chemical signals that tell the cells to grow.

Of course the actual chemo plan won't be confirmed until after surgery and the pathology comes back. 

In the meantime, I started taking Reishi mushrooms. A friend also gave me a book called Medicinal Mushrooms. It is an easy read and fascinating! Reishi mushrooms are really bitter but the good news is that I can put the tincture in my coffee and can't taste it! 

Clinical studies with Reishi have found that patients have a better response to chemo while using it and if stay with it my immune system will be stronger too. I bought dried ones and decocted them. In order to decoct them I had to boil them for an hour then strain off the water and squeeze out the mushroom. They never got soft but I did get lost of "juice" that I was able to use this week. I have run out of the juice so I'll be going to The Woodlands at Phillips Mushrooms Farms to buy some other mushrooms until the ones I ordered arrive. They sell the book there too if you are interested. 

And, if all this wasn't already enough to digest, our central AC decided to quit this week! I mean when you have a family medical deductible of $9,000 (thanks for that Obama) what's another $5,000 right? 

Yup! So we are weighing our options and will most likely replace both the AC and furnace. Both are more than 20 years old and it would be at least $1800 just for the freon because they use new stuff now. If we have to do one we might as well bite the proverbial bullet and do them both. But seriously...Now? 

Managing stress has been crazy hard this week. Thankfully God blessed me with two of the most amazing hysterical children in the world. They keep me on my toes and make me laugh. Today we were driving David to gymnastics and I challenged them to say Irish Wrist Watch five times fast. The result had me laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my cheeks. 

Daniel then said, "I want Kieran to try this." David asked, "Why pacifically Kieran?" Daniel yelled, "PACIFIC IS AN OCEAN."

I came really close to shooting coffee out my nose! 

BTW it was only last week that Daniel was also saying "pacifically." 

Thanks for the laughs guys...I really needed them this week! 

Not Inconsolable

December 3, 2015 was the fifth anniversary of my father's death. Leading up to that date my sister, mother, aunts and I were a weird bundle of nerves. Anniversaries are odd that way.

Lots of anticipation.

I'd imagined that I'd wake up this ball of tears who was inconsolable for hours.

That did not happen.

Per my usual morning habits...I got out of bed, grabbed a cup of coffee and hit Facebook.

First order of business was to pay tribute to the man who gave me the two greatest gifts: My life and my husband.

I did not cry.

I was not inconsolable.

In fact, it felt like my last birthday...just another day.

The lead up was so much worse.

Lesson...

All the worry in the world did nothing but make me miserable.

I am not usually a worrier

In fact, I tend to go the other way. I've been around the block enough to know that worrying seldom produces anything positive and is less than productive.

I tend to take this attitude with my kids when we are home.

They pretty much have free reign of the house and, unless they are doing something blatantly wrong, I can usually repair the damage or clean up the spill.

Spills are something that happens with three-year-olds.

They are curious and learning new things daily so they get into things they shouldn't.

If you have kids you know that silence is typically a VERY bad sign.

Well, the other day I was up in the office designing posts for Facebook for my job and suddenly realized that I didn't hear anything.

I stopped typing for a moment and just listened.

Laughter! Aaaaaaah. The glorious sound of laughter!

Wait!!! What were they laughing about?

I headed downstairs to find them standing on chairs in front of the kitchen sink, water on, sprayer in hand, puddles on the floor, the two of them soaked but giggling hysterically.

It was impossible not to laugh.

The Powder Room

I bought two training potties quite a while ago. Initially both boys were interested but the novelty quickly wore out for the kids.

Or I was waaaaay too lenient with the positive reinforcement jelly beans.

Anyway...I originally began the potty training with them sitting down and purposely chose potty seats with tall splash guards. Then hubby changed course on me, "Because its more manly to have them pee standing up."

While this is a little more fun for the boys, it's entirely too much work for me and I put my foot down.

They sit.

There is plenty of time for them to be manly and stand to pee. We'll get there when their willies are over the top of the bowl.

In the meantime, we all struggle with the twin thing of trying to get two kids on the potties at the same time.

The Stuntman prefers the training potty on the floor but the Engineer prefers to sit on the big toilet with the insert because he has unlimited access to the flush handle.

Hubby and I have learned that the first release is not the full voiding of the bladder and they need to be encouraged to sit, relax and let it go.

This lesson was hardest learned by hubby who had brought the Stuntman into the powder room to pee. After the initial pee pee hubby prematurely removed the Stuntman from the potty set him on the floor where he proceeded to empty the rest of his bladder. At that very moment the Engineer exclaiming, "Pee pee!" stepped across the threshold and pushed hubby, in his stocking feet, into the puddle and closed the door behind him!

The powder room is a total of five and a half feet long and only 35 inches wide.

Hubby was now trapped in a puddle of urine (at least it was warm) with two two-year-olds one of whom is without pants and a diaper and the other wants to pee on the potty.

He'd reached overload!

What did hubby do? Scream for me.

What did I do? Laugh.

For some reason, he did not find this to be anywhere near as humorous as I did.

Anyway...he was in complete panic mode and practically stuttering when I came to his rescue. I joked that I do this all day long and don't see what the problem is. He replied that he can handle the peeing part it's the "multiple thing" that he has trouble with.

I guffawed!

Once I could finally breathe again I reminded him that we've been doing this for two years now so he might want to hurry up and figure it out.

Pooping on the potty has not been anywhere near as successful.

In fact it's happened only once with one of the boys and only because he had the runs and the timing was perfect. The problem occurred when the other one wanted to pee because the first one was on the toilet.

I was already in the powder room sitting on a tiny little stool across from the toilet in front of the sink when the Stuntman, not to be left out, pushed his way into the room yelling, "Pee too! Pee too!" and closed the door.

I was trapped!

Picture the scene here...

The Engineer was sitting on a Cars toilet seat insert that has handles on the side that when pushed make race car sounds. The Stuntman is sitting on the training potty next to me on the floor. Remember the room is just over five feet long and is only 35 inches wide.

Just about the same time I have the thought, "If he pees and his willy's not behind the shield I'm..." AAAACK!

He's peeeeeing......ON ME!!!

I put my hand up to block the stream which deflected onto the Stuntman. Both of the boys started to laugh and we were all in a fit of giggles when I whipped the door open and called to hubby. His response was that he could hear what was happening and I told him that he really needed to see the seating arrangement to truly appreciate it.

Getting peed on by the kids is nothing new. We went through the first six months of their lives in a defensive posture while changing diapers.

You just never knew when one was going to let loose.

It's been quite a while since I've had to be on my toes to keep from getting peed on.

I've yet to get either of them to poop on the potty again so I have no doubt that this will not be the end of the potty training stories. I am however, letting them control the pace that they are potty trained. I've read and heard more nightmare stories about people who pushed their kids and had accident after accident not to mention the stress for everyone.

It will happen in their time no matter what I do anyway.

That being said, I have learned my lesson.

I sit in the doorway when they are on the potties...safely out of the line of fire.

STOP! Leave It On!

In the grand scheme of things having a child remove his diaper is not a horrible offense. It hasn't happened when they are poopie (yet) but of course there is still time.

One evening both boys needed new diapers and I was changing the Stuntman while the Engineer wandered around the first floor. He walked into the playroom held out his hand to his father and I and said, "poop."

AAAAAAACK!

OMG!

OMG!

OH! MY! GAWD!!!

Despite the fact that his pants were still on his hand was covered with the contents of his diaper, which was indeed poop.

Fortunately the kids are old enough now that we don't have to worry about them falling off the changing table. I left the Stuntman on the table, grabbed some wipes and cleaned his hand while hubby held it firmly away from anything that might require sanitizing.

It was weird though. Having poop contact my hand while changing a diaper never bothers me. This, however, sort of freaked me out.

Hubby was totally freaked out and headed toward panic.  

It's been nearly two years of non-stop diaper changing and while he no longer gags when changing diapers he still gets easily frazzled.

Well, he gets easily frazzled anyway. Throw some poop into the mix and he heads toward berserk!

Tonight I had a cake to finish and I asked him if he thought he could handle bathing the boys while I worked. I mean, why not right?

I do it.

While working away in the kitchen I could hear the most amazing level of commotion going on upstairs including the unmistakable sound of at least one small child racing around the second floor.

Hmmmm... they were supposed to be in the tub.

At least they are still laughing.

Before long I am summoned to the second floor.

We've hit frazzled.

Seems that while dad was trying to get the diaper on the Stuntman, the Engineer decided to climb into the rocking recliner in the bedroom and release the contents of his bladder and then announced, "Pee pee!"

I hear hubby, "Oh no you didn't, oh no, you did! Honey! I need you up here he just peed in the recliner! You need to bring up some towels."

"The towels are in the linen closet next to you." I replied, desperately trying to hide the fact that I was laughing.

I finished what I was doing and ascended the stairs to find hubby STILL trying to get the diaper on the Stuntman and the Engineer, now empty, is racing around his bedroom enjoying the freedom that comes with being diaperless.

I grabbed the towels out of the closet, the Clorox wipes, headed into the bedroom and closed the door so I could clean without anyone trying to "help."

The pandemonium that went on on the other side of the door had me laughing so hard I was nearly crying.

The four funniest words I think I've ever heard were exclaimed by my hubby as I heard him yell, "STOP! Leave it on!" followed by the unmistakable sound of the tab on a diaper being pulled open and the Engineer releasing what could only be described as a victory scream.

I doubled over and my eyes filled with tears as I desperately tried not to laugh out loud.

I walked out into the hallway where the now once again naked child is racing around, hubby has bypassed frazzled and barreled right into berserk! I take one look at him and do what any loving wife would do and burst out laughing!

Just Wait Until...

Since my boys were born I have been assaulted by women who, based on their incredibly negative comments, I can only assume hated being mothers.

Everything seems to be prefaced with "just wait until..." and then some stage of development is mentioned: sleeping, feeding, teething, crawling, etc. I never cease to be amazed by the negativity of these miserable ladies and frequently find myself wondering if these are the types of women who raise serial killers or hermits! 

I will give them this much...teething sucks! 

Despite the need to baby-proof the house (baby-proof...Ha!) crawling has been so much fun. They follow me. I can hold a bottle up and say, "Come on" and they crawl to me! We chase each other around the house and play peek-a-boo around the furniture. How can you not love that? 

It seems that we live in a society where instead of sharing the best of times we have to outdo ourselves on the worst of times. Rather than "my dog is bigger than yours" it has become "my dog is sicker than yours." Weird and sad at the same time. 

Any woman who has ever been pregnant will tell you that other women love to tell horrific pregnancy and birth stories to expectant mothers. Like the idea of childbirth isn't already stressful enough we really need to know how your best friend's best friend's sister-in-law's cousin was in labor for 97 hours! Oy vey!

I thought the nightmare stories would end with childbirth but nooooo. Evidently, I'm supposed to hate the different stages of development and have something negative to say about each. Well, that's just not me. 

I prefer to laugh. 

Of course some days with the boys are tough. Did I mention that teething sucks?! Most of the time the boys are on the same schedule but sometimes they end up out of sync and it it feels like I'm tag-teamed all day long. Those days are very long but they are also very rare. I don't dwell on them. I have better things to do like play peek-a-boo! 

Most of the time, my experience is something that I have dreamed of my entire life.  I have happy, sweet babies that love to go for walks around the neighborhood or rides in the car. They love stores and  shopping carts as long as they can see where they are going; we have to push the carts backwards. I call them my "happiness ambassadors" because they make everyone smile. Walmart could only dream of such greeters! 

Could I waste precious time focusing on dirty diapers, barf, ground up cheerios or teething - did I mention teething sucks? Of course I could but why would I? Why would anyone? What a waste of time! I don't look for the negative in motherhood. 

I revel in the positive.

The list of things that I love is long and getting longer: They smile when they first wake up in the mornings or from naps. I can make them giggle just by saying, "Boo!" They love when the "raspberry monster" attacks. They hug and love to be hugged. They love water; bath time and swimming lessons are so much fun. They have infectious giggles. They crawl to me. They crawl on me. They are trying to stand. 

Motherhood is not easy but no one said it would be. In fact, most other mothers are resolute in telling me how terrible it is. 

Which makes me wonder...

If it's so bad, how come I have never been happier before in my life?

Rice Krispies

When my boys reached about four months of age one of them began throwing up very regularly. He wasn't just throwing up, he would barf and then scream. This to me was indicative of one thing: acid reflux.

I dutifully called the doctor's office to find out what to do. I'm not a panicky mommy (I would have been in my 20s) I rarely call the doctor's office but I felt that this needed attention. The nurse called me back later to tell me that the doctor thought he was just getting a little too much fluid and that I could start adding rice cereal to his bottles to thicken things up and help keep it down. She said that if that didn't help then the doctor would like to see him. I thanked her and hung up the phone completely oblivious to the fact that my hubby was sitting there waiting to be filled in. Let's face it, my accidental snub was not intentional. I am the handler of all things baby: nutritional, medical, clothing, etc. It didn't even dawn on me to explain the call.

He got miffed. Finally, he looked at me and asked, "Well are you going to fill me in?" "Oh, yeah, sorry," I replied. I then went on to explain that the doctor wanted us to begin putting rice cereal in the bottles to thicken things up. The longer I talked the more confused my hubby became. Once I finished he looked at me totally bewildered and said, "Like Rice Krispies?" I actually had to think about what he was asking. The synapse in my brain temporarily failed. I went blank.

O.M.G! No! Hahahahaha. I just about had to pick myself up off of the floor because I laughed so hard my son and I almost fell off of the sofa. Hubby did not know that they make a rice cereal for babies. (In the old days it was called Pablum.) He thought the doctor wanted us to put the "Snap, Crackle, Pop" version of rice cereal in the bottles and the confused look I saw on his face was him trying to imagine how our son was going to suck it through the nipple.

All I have to do today is say "Rice Krispies" and we both begin to laugh.