Just Loud

Throughout my diagnosis, surgery and current chemo treatments, people have referred to me as "brave," a label with which I am not comfortable. 

Merriam-Webster defines brave as: "having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear, or difficulty : having or showing courage."

I don't see myself as brave or courageous. 

Great figures in history that I think of when I hear brave are: 

• Harriet Tubman leading slaves to freedom on the underground railroad
• Martin Luther King
• Irena Sendler — a Polish social worker who helped save some 2,500 Jewish children from the Nazis by smuggling them out of the Warsaw Ghetto 
• Combat soldiers
• Firefighters
• Police
• Anyone willing to put their life on the line for the betterment of others

I just talk about what is going on in my life and encourage others to go to the boob squish machine. 

I know, I know...it sucks, it hurts, it's uncomfortable but it's necessary. 

It's not bravery. It's a test. 

Someone recently asked how I was and I gave them the standard answer, "I'm good. Steroids get me through the weekend. The fatigue at the beginning of the week is pretty severe but my staff is amazing. They have everything covered so I can nap when I need too. The meds keep my tummy issues mostly under control."

He responded with, "You poor thing." 

I snapped back with, "Don't talk to me that way." 

And I meant it. 

I am not a "poor thing." 

What I am going through is temporary, manageable and I have a light at the end of the tunnel. 

There are many that will never see the end of treatment. 

They will lose their battle. 

In this regard, I am blessed. 

The cancer was stage one. I will beat this and move on. 

I am not brave, I am just loud. 

If God chose me and my big mouth so that I can spread the word and help to save others, then I am honored to be his messenger. 

Imagine God have enough faith in your faith in Him to make you a messenger.

What! How incredible is that? 

What I am talking about here is perspective. 

I am not a victim. 

I am a weapon, a warrior, a fighter. 

I don't wear battle armor, I have a big mouth, shaved head and pencilled on eyebrows.

Truth be told though? Being bald does make me feel pretty badass.

I'm really liking the bald head. 

It's cooler in the summer, takes no time at all to get ready when we go out and...think of the money I'm saving on hair care products. Ha! 

I am having a great time with pictures of my bald head. 

After my chemo treatment last week, Glenn needed to go to his office and I needed to make a stop at Hobby Lobby for supplies. 

I scored a pair of Yoda sunglasses!!!

Once we were in the car I pulled them out to put them on and Glenn was mortified. 

It was the only time since we met that he wasn't a super aggressive driver. He was so embarrassed that he was hanging back so people wouldn't see us, well, me.  

I don't know what his problem was, my name is on the back of the car! 

Anyway...we got stuck at a notoriously long red light. He was really irritated and grumbling about it. 

While still wearing the Yoda glasses, I put my hand on his arm and said, "Alright you will be."

He tried to not to laugh, but in the end couldn't help himself, and we had a great laugh together. 

I still have 7 more weeks of chemo ahead but I have five behind me. Each week I get closer to getting my life back. 

It's just a path I need to take and I will walk it with God lighting the way. 

With a little humor and a lot of faith, alright I will be. 

The Climb to the Top

As I have mentioned in previous posts, we have a fireplace with a raised hearth. Many people, mostly well meaning family members, have questioned our decision to not put padding around the edge of the hearth. We refuse the bubble wrap the house! They all fear that the boys will crash into it and hurt themselves. This may in fact be a concern but it's hasn't been...yet.

For weeks now, we have been keeping the boys from climbing up onto the hearth for fear that they will fall off it. We have hardwood floors, installed by yours truly and the hubby, and the fall is a solid 9.5". (Yes, as a matter of fact, I did measure it.)

The battle to keep them off the hearth was unending. They were bound and determined to climb up on the damn thing. When they weren't trying to climb up they were pulling on the screen and the fireplace tools. The screen is not really a big deal because it is very light and there are not really any sharp edges. The tools are another story completely. Not only are they heavy but this is a wood-burning fireplace and we use the tools...they are dirty!

In an effort to win at least one battle, hubby put the tools behind the screen inside the fireplace.

Nice idea but it missed the mark.

Now the kids saw the screen as a challenge. Every-freakin'-day was a constant battle to keep them from trying to pull the screen down to get to the tools. It was a nightmare.

As their crawling improved, so did their strength.

Not only could they stand at the hearth and hit the screen, they could climb onto the hearth and pull on it. Of course the inevitable happened. One twin pulled and the screen came down on top of the other.

Oh joy!

The one that managed to pull down the screen was very excited that his access was no longer blocked and he was not at all deterred by the fact that his brother was crying. I now had one twin on the hearth happily enjoying unencumbered access to filthy fireplace tools and another on the floor screaming! He was not hurt but it scared the crap out of him.

I moved them off and away from the hearth and put the screen back but I knew that this was not over.

A couple of days later while talking to my hubby I had to pull the kids off the hearth about 10 times in as many minutes and we decided that it was time to teach them how to safely get down off the hearth. We practiced the "feet first dismount" a couple of times and the first time we let them crawl up there without resistance from us David let out a triumphant growl while clenching his fists and wiggling his feet. We laughed.

Battle lost.

The next day David once again, won the battle of the kitchen island shelf. This one is 13" off the floor ( yes I got the ruler out again) and a much tougher climb. Up he went and again I got the growl.

Another battle lost.

I keep a pile of spare baby blankets on the love seat in the playroom. It's convenient and I don't really have anywhere else to store them. Anyway...last weekend the kids were in the playroom while I was getting breakfast ready when I heard my hubby shout, "Oh my God!" I looked up and there was David ON the love seat...growling!

The dynamic duo had figured out that if they pulled the blankets off the sofa and climbed up onto the pile they could get up on the cushions.

Oh goodie!

So exciting because I certainly didn't have much to worry about before.

I am not delusional; I never actually expected to win any of these battles but I didn't expect to lose them so soon.