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! 

The Bell & The Ball

I rang the bell!!!! 

I turned out to be a bigger deal for me than I thought it would. 

Seriously, it was big! 

I came really close to crying. 

My outfit for the day was a winged pig with the theme, "Chemo may be over, but I won't stop fighting until pigs fly." 

I made a ton of winged pig cookies to give to well, everyone and brought a huge basket of stuff to give away. 

Friends and loved ones have been so generous but there were so many things that I wasn't going to use. Rather than have them sit on a shelf in a closet, I thought it would be best to take the basket with me. I put a large note on the front that said, "If there is something here that could help you or a loved one, please take it." 

I put it on a table in the waiting area and told everyone there to help themselves and they did! 

As usual I bounced around at chemo handing out cookies, talking with the other patients and staff and laughed a lot! 

Then we headed home and, as usual, I was crazy busy Friday and Saturday nights! 

For a number of years now I have volunteered for the Silent Auction Committee for the Southern Chester County Chamber of Commerce at the Annual Gala. We have such a good time and the money we raise goes to the scholarship fund for graduating seniors. 

This year, due to covid, we had to change the date and the location of the event. It's normally held in March but we had to postpone until September and I am proud to say that it was a huge success! 

Fortunately, because it was on a Saturday night, I was still hopped up on steroids from chemo the day before. I felt great and had plenty of energy to get through the event and finish a cake when I got home.  

Speaking of the steroids...I have gained about 15 pounds during this experience and had nothing to wear. 

I had to be at the venue at 4:30. I didn't discover the wardrobe issue 2pm. Needless to say, I was pretty freaked out! 

I called a friend of mine, who had lost a bunch of weight, hoping that she hadn't cleaned out her closet, to see if she had something I could borrow and...

She did!!! 

I went from having nothing, to having a gorgeous dress that fit like it was made for me. 

Woohoo!!! 

So relieved. 

The only problem was that the bodice would flop open if I leaned forward. 

Huge shout out to Tina at the The Stone Barn in Kennett Square. She found a huge box of safety pins and helped me pin the bodice closed so my scars wouldn't traumatize anyone. 

After we got the dress pinned Tina headed out to finish setting up and I stayed in the ladies room to do my make-up and bedazzle my head. 

It was a wonderful night with great food, fantastic music and a lovely venue. 

I have been a member of the chamber since I opened my business. So many friends came over to congratulate me on ringing the bell. 

We talked about my decision to not wear a wig and about my bedazzled head. 

They also shared stories of loved ones who are fighting the battle now. 

I am blessed. 

All things considered my fight has been an easy one and my prognosis is excellent. 

Yeah, I have side effects that I'm still dealing with but everything could have been so much worse. 

I'm seriously considering becoming a volunteer at the cancer center. 

I enjoy talking to the other patients, finding ways to make both patients and staff laugh and help take the weight off their shoulders for a while. 

It feels good to help people and if something good can come from this then maybe that's why I was there to begin with. 

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. 

What The Hell...

The other day David walked up to Daniel, lifted his shirt and licked his back. Daniel screamed and then yelled, "Mommy David slimed me." In a moment of infinite parental wisdom I yelled, "David, keep your tongue to yourself!"

Yeah...sometimes I feel like my life is one big carousel of stupid parenting moments which, from what I've been told, is normal.

I like feeling normal...whatever normal is.

Really what I like feeing is that I am not alone.

Knowing that what I thought was one of the worst "parent fail" moments of the decade isn't really that bad or is nothing new to any other parent makes me feel so much better!

There are tons of parenting books out there but I'm not sure how many deal with sibling lickings.

I try so hard to be a good and righteous mom but there are days that I fail miserably.

The biggest issue I have, and always have had, is my mouth!

Recently Daniel was standing in front of the TV with a toy car poised to roll across the screen. From across the room I yelled, "No!" Followed by, "Daniel put the car down."

He started to lower his arm but raised it back up and held it in front of the screen and I hollered, "Don't you dare."

With that he "vroomed" the car across the flat screen as I screamed, "Nooooo!"

Before I could move David looked at me and said, "That's a dammit mommy."


Face palm!

Oops!

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Parental Oxymoron: Not funny yet hysterical at the same time.

I laughed. Oh relax, I know better but seriously who wouldn't laugh at that one!

A few days after the "Dammit" Daniel walked up to me looked at something that was next to me on the sofa and asked, "What the hell is that?"

Um...

Yeah...all me!

On the grand scale of things this is not the worst. Neither of the kids are running around dropping F-bombs in public but it is a great reminder that these two little people will learn what I teach them and the biggest lessons come from my actions.

I pray on a regular basis to keep myself under control and be a better example.

I'm working on it I really am but dammit it's tough!

Oops!

He Is My Rock

I have this terrible habit of romanticizing the dumbest things.

    The Brady Bunch.
The ultimate "Everything is
fixed in 30 minutes" sitcom. 

I blame Disney and TV sitcoms!

Seriously, I have spent my life thinking that, "When I have kids..." Fill in the blank.

Well my idiotic imagination and reality don't jive well; in fact they often clash!

My children were not going to be the little bastards that ran willy-nilly all over the grocery story, or scream at the top of their lungs. My boys would be properly dressed when we left the house.

My children would not throw temper tantrums.

Ha!

I was recently slapped so hard in the face by reality that I was left crying and wondering what I had done wrong.

The short answer is nothing. I really had done nothing wrong. And the boys are really wonderful.

Most of the time.

We endured months of David controlling nearly every situation with his incessant tantrums to the point that we'd changed plans to go out just to spare another human being from the experience.

Initially it began because David didn't want to change out of his pajamas...ever.

I had this rule: Pajamas are ok at home but if we go out they had to be changed into real clothes.

The morning I arrived at my MoPS (Mothers of PreSchoolers) group with a bottle of lavender oil in my pocket, I knew things were out of control. After discussing the situation with the moms I decided to let the pajama issue go. (See My How Life Has Changed.)

I thought we were out of the woods.

I had another thought coming.

Next was the dirty clothes. David only wanted to wear dirty clothes. If I changed him he'd strip down and then throw his tantrum.

One day in particular I'd had enough and called my husband for moral support.

I left David flailing naked on the playroom floor and headed up to the bedroom, closed and locked the door and plunked myself in the recliner to share my misery and hear that everything was going to be ok.

As soon as my butt hit the leather the bedroom door burst open with Hell Boy Tantrum Child screaming that he wanted his dirty clothes. I calmly walked across the master bedroom and locked myself in the bathroom. (Double checked the latch on the door!) sat on the edge of the tub and cried into the phone, "I can't take this anymore."

Suddenly, there was this insanely loud banging noise coming from the bathroom door. Hubby asked what the noise was so I described the scene to him: David was now lying on his back on the floor on the other side of the bathroom door screaming at the top of his lungs while simultaneously kicking the bathroom door.

"Naked."

"What?" I asked

"He's lying on the floor kicking the bathroom door completely naked."

The absurdity of it all hit me and I began to laugh!

There are so many reasons that I love my husband but his sense of humor is one of the big ones.

Over the years he has been able to make me laugh more than anyone else.

Oh sure, we have our stress moments, what couple doesn't? But his ability to calm me and find humor in a situation is a gift.

Some of my parenting thoughts are still true to this day. My children do not run like crazy through stores. I will not tolerate it..that's what playgrounds are for. The day David decided to start screaming while in the shopping cart, as we were walking into the store I steered past the entrance and sat on the sidewalk until he was ready to settle down and I could go shopping without inconveniencing everyone in the store.

They've been to the store in their pajamas and people loved them. I was not criticized.

I'm learning to let experiences happen without expectations. Having expectations about behavior is one thing but why not let things play out they way they were meant to? I don't need to have everything scripted or planned.

A dear friend always said, "If you want to make God laugh, make plans."

Ha!

I'm learning to go with the flow.

The tantrums lasted nearly three months. For a while it was daily sometimes twice a day. At it's worst I felt so lost but talking to other moms about it was super helpful. Many even offered suggestions that truly made a difference.

They are over now.

We survived.

Knowing that my hubby always had my back and was willing to jump in and deal with David when I was at the end of my rope was my saving grace.

He is my rock. 

I am blessed. 

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!

Pee Pee

For the first time in nearly two years I have the house completely to myself.

Hubby and the boys are at his nephew's graduation/bon voyage to college party. They won't be home for a while.

I'm at a complete loss as to what to do with myself.

Of course I'm doing laundry. Duh!

I could read a book, knit, surf the web, troll Facebook...whatever I want but I have no idea what I want.

I'm restless and fidgety.

I want to write but without all the background noise to filter out I can't concentrate and my mind is racing. Thoughts come and go like lightning bugs in the dark and I can seem to zero in on any particular topic.

So much has gone on lately and time seems to speed up.

I blinked and the boys went from one to almost 21 months.

They are adorable and funny.

They repeat everything...and I mean EVERYTHING!!!

All of a sudden the words "crap" and "damn" have taken on greater meaning and my use of them has been curbed...considerably.

We are attempting the potting training part of child-rearing.

Right now it's more of a "thing" than actual training. We'll get there eventually but for now "pee pee" is just something that they like to say.

Until they are in the bathtub.

Then they like to pee in the cup that we use to rinse their hair. We have tried to have them pee on the potty before they get into the tub but they hold it until they get in the tub and then pee in the cup.

The Stuntman will repeatedly pee in the cup. He has enough control to grab the cup and hold it in the right place to make the attempt.

The other night after repeatedly attempting to no avail he looked up at me and declared, "empty."

Smart kid!

Bath time is a particular favorite of ours.

Hubby usually strips the kids while I go upstairs to run the bath. Once naked and given the "all clear" he opens the gate and lets them climb up.

The other night after undressing one and while undressing another, the first came over and peed on hubby's foot.

He yelled.

The culprit sprinted through the house buck naked giggling and screaming the entire time.

I laughed.

How can you not laugh?

Rolling with the Punches vs. Panic

About a month ago three of my BFFs flew in from across the country and Canada to spend the weekend, play with the babies and get in some much needed "girl time." They had coordinated their flights to land within a half-hour of each other which made picking them up at the airport insanely easy.

We left the airport and headed to out for Sushi.

I haven't had Sushi since the weekend we closed on this house two years ago November. When I was pregnant nothing looked appetizing except turkey subs and Sushi was an especially nauseating thought never mind the fact that I was not allowed to have it. I have been craving Sushi for months now, so I made sure that everyone was on board with it and found a highly recommended place in Baltimore.

It did not disappoint.

Two of us LOVE Sushi, one likes it and the other, at the end of the meal, declared it good...except for the fish. Ha! It's a good thing that I wasn't drinking anything when that line was uttered or I would have had iced tea shoot out my nose!

Some of the pieces were extremely large. I don't cut my sushi I just dive in and stuff the roll into my mouth. One of the girls figured out how to pull the seaweed apart so that she could divide it in half. One of them tried to copy that technique and used her chopsticks...like a knife and fork...as if she were cutting filet mignon. I tried to not make fun of her but after watching her do this, seemingly endlessly with no visible result, I and the other two girls just burst out laughing. She might as well have been trying to cut down a tree with a herring. (note the Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference).

We laughed hysterically, jumped from topic to topic and left with our bellies full but our wallets not ridiculously light. I even ordered some sushi rolls to take home to hubby who was being daddy extraordinaire with the boys for the afternoon and evening.

The next day hit the Amish Market and got pretzel wrap sandwiches which are AMAZING and just for good measure picked up some pretzel wrapped cheddar wurst and some pretzel cinnamon sticks. As if that wasn't enough we cleaned out the day old table at the bakery and grabbed some pumpkin bars just in case anyone got hungry!

On the way back from the market we went around two cars that were stopped on a back road and three young ladies standing on the side of the road looking beyond confused. As I backed up to their cars to check on them I noticed that one of their cars had a flat tire.

I know my way around a car pretty well so we parked our car and gave the girls a hand. None of them had any idea how to change and flat and the car with the flat didn't even have a jack in it! The rim with the flat tire on it only had three lug nuts holding the wheel in place. There are supposed to be four. She said her mechanic said she didn't need the fourth. Um...yeah...I'm pretty sure the fourth one isn't just there for looks.

I hate mechanics like that.

How would he feel if someone told his daughter some crap like that. She was driving up and down the turnpike on that thing!

While removing the lug nuts, one of them broke in half. Apparently, the know-it-all mechanic put them on too tight and in the process of trying to loosen it, it just snapped off.

And then there were two.

She asked if I thought she could make the 50+ mile trip to Baltimore for the weekend. I'm not 100% sure but I think we all shouted, "NO!"

While all of this was going on my twins were just hanging out in their infant seats on the embankment. They love to be outside and watching all the action was plenty to keep them entertained.

The girls that we helped were really excited to have learned how to change a flat tire and I explained that as single girls traveling alone there are certain things that they should know...that is one of them.

I love these weekends with the girls. We stay up entirely too late, eat horrible foods and laugh...a lot!

The weekend was a weird comedy of errors that had us running in odd directions dealing with things that most people never have to deal with much less all in one weekend. But, it's par for the course when we get together and we always weather whatever comes.

Most of my friends, if not all, can pretty much roll with the punches. We seem to be able to adjust to whatever comes without much fanfare. I can't say as much for my hubby.

My hubby is a wonderful, loving, patient, kind, understanding, good hearted, fun loving guy...until the babies are crying or he is behind the wheel of a car. Those are truly his major weaknesses. Well, that and he is a horrible multi-tasker. Give him a task and he will knock it out of the park. Try to have a conversation with him while he is doing it and he will completely stress out. Throw a crying baby into the mix and...well...all bets are off!

When the girls were planning their trip they not only coordinated their arrivals but they coordinated their departures too. This made pick up and drop off very easy! The one difference was that one of the girls has a friend who lives in Virginia and she had made arrangements to have that friend pick her up at the airport at the same time I was dropping everyone off.

Great idea until the friend was almost an hour late!

I was not really concerned because this gave me some really good one-on-one time with her that I would not have had otherwise.

Hubby was home with the kids who were evidently fussy and my cell phone started blowing up! So much for “quality time” with a friend that I get to see once a year!

Rather than being able to enjoy our extra time together, I was peppered with phone calls from a stressed out hubby who had evidently lost the ability to think on his own and despite my telling him otherwise, and our repeated conversations about the drop off schedule, thought I was going to drop them at the curb and head right back home. 

I sent text messages to both of my mother’s helpers begging assistance and discovered that neither was home and therefore unavailable!

I contacted a friend and told her what was going on and she said she’d go right over. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!

For the most part the kids are pretty easy. Their fussiness is usually short-lived and they giggle at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, my hubby is not all that easy to distract and once the kids start crying his ability to think goes out the window.

I understand that crying or fussy babies can get on your nerves; they get on mine too. What I don’t understand is the panicked response to it.

My mother assures me that this is just a normal male reaction to crying babies.

Unfortunately, I don't think this is a stage that my hubby is going to grow out of!

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.

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.