Shopping With the Lone Girl

Em is such a happy, sweet, insightful girl. She brings us a balance of beauty and surprise. She's also got the straight man shtick down like a pro, and we often have to do a double take to tell if she's joking. Occasionally, she'll be trying to talk about something lovely, or thoughtful, and a brother will pop off with a fart joke... that's when she turns to me and says, "Would you please get me a sister?" But most of the time, she's pretty content with her home of males.

The other day, I took her Christmas shopping with me. We haven't really done that before, which I hadn't realized. Christmas shopping for a large family in a small house is a series of insane acrobatic maneuvers and online shopping. That's just the only way to do it. And we don't really do "girls day out", or shop-for-fun, or things like that. It's not some moral thing on my part, just not something we get around to. The kids are usually divvied up by age groups or interest, not gender, and while some of it is logistics, some of it is practicality. We do things together, and we thoroughly enjoy them, just not shopping. But this time, we did. Just she and I. And she was *shocked* at how expensive it is to buy Christmas gifts for half a dozen people.

First, though, she needed pants. We've been so blessed with hand-me-downs for her that we seldom need to buy her more than socks, unders, and shoes. Not really exciting stuff. But right now, if the pants are long enough, you could fit two of her in the waistband. If they fit in the waist, they're capris. Not so great for winter wear.

Now, this is my secret Achilles heel. The boys have their styles, and those styles are functional, straightforward, and... not a lot of fun to shop for. Black and soft, or OD Green and sturdy -- Bam, done. But her? She's a wild card on style - color, texture, fabric choice - it's a world of possibility! I love to window shop for her and, had she been an only child, we'd probably be broke from impulse buys because I wouldn't have had the boys there to whisper, "Focus. We're here for socks, Mom. Focus." Plus, because she's so readily pleased, it's even more fun. She is, however, incredibly practical. She found a style of pant that is comfortable and feels good and she was ready to go. I had to convince her to at least get a couple pairs, maybe in different colors. Couldn't talk her into the long plaid tunics or the adorable print leggings, but she agreed to get a couple of long sleeve shirts to supplement her current options. Then she spied a pair of cranberry jeans like mine, and she loved them. "These are just like yours!" So we got those, too, because how fun is that? (I could not pay the boys to wear matching clothes with me on purpose! Gonna take this win while I can.) Eventually, she was squared away and then she proceeded to herd me back to checkout by whispering, "Focus. We're here for Christmas gifts, Mom. Focus."

Then we hit the serious Christmas shopping -- goodies for John and Jacob, and the perfect gift for James... just-the-thing for Jase (she'd found it in September and has been reminding me daily, so I don't forget - thank God they hadn't sold out yet). We stopped for lunch, and wrapped it up in time to join the boys at Game Day. (I've been shuffling bags from room to room ever since. We should have bought wrapping paper while we were out!)

The restaurant where we ate lunch was a little loud, and it was hard to hear, so she started signing to me across the table. BRILLIANT! We had a mostly-silent lunch, punctuated by bouts of laughter and her declaration that this is really useful for loud spaces.

I think it took going out shopping for the boys to kick start her into thinking of things she would like to have. Up until now, she'd asked for a set of Perler beads and that. was. it. Yesterday, she handed me her notebook to show me that she'd made a list. It is so sweet. (Please ignore the spelling and my weird shadow puppet action, there.)

A sharpie? Her own sharpie. That's a pretty sane request in this house. I might ask for one, too. And I think I know just the place to find a perfect replacement blanket.

Be encouraged!

~Dy

Big News. Ish.

Well, not Big-big News. I'd hopefully come up with a much better title for that. But little-news-that's-exciting-to-me-because-I-hate-using-the-computer-for-reading. ACNA (the Anglican Church in North America) has been working on a Texts for Common Prayer, and it looks like it'll be available in print January 1st. (It's been available in PDF for a while.) We're relatively new to the Anglican Church (it's been about a year and a half), and I do love me some hands-on reading. So I'm quite excited about this.

In other news, it's Alabama-cold. The kids set small cups of water on the porch last night, and were not only disappointed, but quite surprised that the water didn't freeze. They were relatively certain that the ice should have been rock solid and rather impressive. I don't know if we need to move to Minnesota, or just double down on how temperatures work. (Although to be fair, with a low of 24, I thought they'd at least get a little something around the rim. Our pipes freeze up when it hits 27... So maybe I need to study up, too.) Either way, we're loving the warm goodness of wool this week.

Not a lot, really, going on today. Had lunch with a wonderful friend -- we got to talk a bit about what it's like to have a student done with homeschooling... and then (as I'm about to graduate my first, she's about to graduate her last) what it's like to *be* done with homeschooling. Nobody ever blogs about that. Probably because it's just as terrifying as getting started, but with less heads up. You're plugging along, doing your thing, and the next thing you know, there's nobody coming up the ranks... just, done. Weird. Exciting, liberating, wide-open, and not a little unsettling. But I'm excited to see what she's going to do, and I'll be jotting down ideas for when I look up and realize I'm done.

If you're in the thick of it, know this - you're doing good work. Be diligent. Be kind. Be encouraged.

~Dy

A Day's Outing

We had three field trips today, starting at 8:30 this morning. That... wasn't the best planning I've done, but it worked out well in the end.

Krispy Kreme tour -- the highlight of this one was getting to mill about and visit with people we adore and see only rarely. Plus, coffee. Because if we have to be anywhere at 8:30, there should be coffee.

Knitting -- a dear friend meets with a knitting group, and she's invited Em to join them. But new people. And learning new skills. And so, polite-but-firm refusal has been Em's MO.

But *today*, we were having our book club at the same place, at overlapping times! So I had to jump on that opportunity, because it might not happen again, and I knew she'd love it once she got there.

And she did. (*whew*) When the knitters left for the day, she joined the rest of the kids for some board games and hang time...

Then we came home and slapped a little learning into the day with history, math, literature and languages.

James is really showing his mettle with this Physics course. I don't think I could do a full year's AP Physics in five months. Eh, strike that, there's No Way I could do it. But he's doing it. It hasn't been easy, and a few of the hurdles he's cleared haven't been gorgeous and sleek (they've been more like when I try to clear actual, physical hurdles), but he has kept on it. Not giving up, that one. And he gets it. He makes sure of that by putting in extra time when he doesn't get it, even if he's got the homework done and turned in -- he keeps at it until he's wrangled it to the ground. The mother in me gets exasperated with his organizational struggles, but the human in me is inspired by his intelligence and tenacity.

Not insinuating that mothers aren't humans. But we have strange lenses. Sometimes we've got to step back and view what our children are accomplishing through the eyes of just being human, doing hard things, and sticking to it. And then we are amazed. And oh, so proud.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

BIG Weekend

Saturday was kind of quiet. Then Sunday was packed with church and a photo shoot and headshots, and it bled over into Monday with school and parade prep, and now we overslept on Trash Day. Oops!

Em was acolyte at church on Sunday. She's not a Center Stage kind of person, so this is a challenge for her. She'd gladly decorate the church, make blankets for the homeless, sew hats for babies. Being in front of people, however, is hard for her. And learning new things (skills, routines, steps) in front of people? Oy vey! But she does it sweetly and with a good attitude. We have enough children serving that the kids only have a turn once every six weeks or so -- she appreciates the reprieve, but I think she needs to do it every week for a month straight so it'll stick. Right now, it's a little like it's her first time every time. She's adorable, though, even though she's probably not much actual help for Father Geoff. And I love our vestry for being so sweet about directing her when she gets lost.

Did I tell you all James is modeling? He started in June, and he loves it. We're all moderately surprised at this (not because he's not lovely, but because he's so cerebral and analytical - we just always assumed he'd be an engineer or a scientist -- this is what comes of raising your children to work hard, study hard, and find their joy -- it doesn't usually look the way you thought it would, but it will be good). He is good at it, he works hard at it, and he's learning so much. Then Jacob decided to give it a go -- he was selected in November to work with the Alabama Fashion Alliance. This incredible organization is hosting Fashion Week Alabama, which is in March. (I'm sure I'll talk your ear off about it as it gets closer. Good stuff happening in North Alabama.) Jacob was cast to walk in it, and James got his first paid walk that week, too. Very exciting stuff.

This was Jacob's first shoot, and he could not have asked for a better first experience. From the stylist (who is a dream stylist!) to the photographers (who are fantastic), to the other models, the whole thing was fantastic. James brought his A-game, LeJeune (the AFA director) found a tremendously talented designer of men's clothes, and I cannot wait to see the results in the look book.

This is just friends hanging out after the meeting at the end of the day. We should all look that good at the end of a work day. :-)

Monday was the Christmas Parade. John is doing a prince role for a local princess group. They do a lot of charity events, but also hire out for parties and dances. It's an incredible group of young people who make it all happen. I just showed up to drive the trailer. We had to wrap up school in the morning so we could hit the car wash before going to get the decorated trailer. Then the normally five minute drive to downtown took about 30 minutes because we couldn't go over 20mph. But the end result was fantastic!

Prepping the float - he's not only handsome, he's helpful.

We got home and everybody crashed!

Today, we read. And make coffee, pot after pot. And rest.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Holidays With Teens

So, that's weird. It's still pretty fantastic. Party prep takes all of half an hour, because teens actually help with the cleaning. The cooking is a cake walk, again, because they pitch in. Inside jokes are way funnier because they're old enough to get them.

And yet, you come home from class to find everyone sitting in the dark, glued to the couch, stock still, eyes wide... watching "a creepy Christmas movie". The weird part is that you actually have to watch the movie for a couple of minutes to find out if they're being campy about a traditional movie or if it's really a scary Christmas movie. (Odds are about 50/50, to be truthful.)

The biggest downside to teens so far is that they get so busy and can take themselves -- to work, to study groups -- to Scouts and Exploring -- there's very little time spent together as they get closer to fledging. It's probably supposed to be this way -- how else are they going to learn to be on their own if they're never on their own. But still, that part's a little bittersweet.

Yesterday's party was a blast. With teens and littles and mamas. And so much laughter and food.

Today, 3/5 of the kids and I were up and out the door at some ridiculous hour in order to get into town to see The Nutcracker. The other two had things to do. But for the rest of us, it was so worth it. They hadn't seen it before, and they were enthralled. Jacob's considering taking ballet, now. He was quite impressed with the sheer strength of the dancers. (I think his actual words were, "Wow. They could kick your head clean off!" Not that he would do that, but when you're 13, that seems like a straight up superpower.)

John worked this morning, then had to be at a food drive, so we dropped him off and visited a friend at a yarn store. Em had no idea such things (yarn stores) existed. This may  have been a mistake, but she is so very, very glad we went. We also met a lady there who teaches sign to elementary students in music class, but she mentioned that she doesn't understand it well in spoken conversation because she doesn't have anyone to practice with. The kids would like to go back to crochet and sign with her. And touch the yarn. I'm pretty sure the lure of yarn touching factored in, there.

Then we had ASL class, and arrived home.

The movie is actually creepy.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

It's a Party! With Party Food!

This fall, I've been part of the most amazing book club. It's been a source of humor, support, prayer, encouragement, ideas and insights, thoughtful conversation... You name it. We've also managed to read a couple of books. But that turned out to be the excuse, not the purpose. Tomorrow, we party.

The gift exchange plan is that the adults have drawn names and are to give gifts that we already have lying around, or can make. Wish I'd thought about the potential for this at some point in the last year of purging and wardrobe capsules and decluttering. I'm down to offering up a spare cast iron skillet, or maybe a SCOBY... So, I think we're going to go with making something. (But it's 10:30 and I don't know what. The odds that it will be "something laminated" are increasing as we approach midnight, I'm not gonna lie.) The kids are doing a similar gift plan, but they're planning on doing a Dirty Santa exchange instead of drawing names.

Em crocheted a mermaid while we read today.

I.... I've got nothing like that up my sleeve.

So James and I were thinking homemade treats would be nice. But of the group, we have varying degrees of dietary restrictions: sugar-free, dairy-free, egg-free, wheat-free, peanut-free, Keto, and Paleo. Plus one who can pretty much only eat cotton candy and nuts. (It's not that bad, but if I'm going to feed her, I take a picture of the ingredients, or the label on a product and text her, "Can you eat this?" Because if I guess, I will guess wrong!)

James happily decanted some of his vanilla erythritol, slapped a bow on it, and went back to studying. John grabbed a carabiner, which he hails as "the most useful thing since the pocket knife", wrapped it, and went back to studying. Jacob made a bracelet. Jase found a recipe for mint chocolate cookies that meets ALL of the dietary limitations of the group, so that's what he wants to make in the morning.

I still don't know what I'm going to do for the gift exchange, but in my search for inspiration I found some neat links to random things you can feed people who have special dietary requirements and thought perhaps you would enjoy some of them. (I've been full-on Keto for the last year, and feel amazing. But we don't really eat a lot of treats and sweets and such, so I haven't looked for alternatives. We make our mayo and sriracha and everything else can be killed or grown. Boy, was that search eye-opening! I had NO IDEA how far recipes had come for the dietary-restricted diets! Dang, people, way to get creative with your bad selves!)

First up, I found this recipe for what the author says is a lot like a Jolly Rancher. It's made with xylitol and either LorAnn's candy flavoring or unsweetened Kool-Aid. Oh, and a hot plate. (We do not have a hot plate, or a mug warmer, much to James' sorrow, so we used the coffee pot. It seems to have worked.) I didn't get pictures of the process because I am so far out of that frame of mind you wouldn't believe it. But it's a very low key process. We didn't add enough flavoring, I think. Prototypes are like that. But we also did not napalm anyone in the kitchen, break the coffee pot, or poison the dog. Plus, it's very satisfying to get xylitol to crystallize.

Then I found this mother lode of links for mug cakes. Paleo, low-carb, crazy, rampant cake recipes! I haven't made them, yet, but we did put Meyer lemons on the grocery list. I'm kind of toying with the idea of having batches pre-made and bagged with mugs set out, so guests can just pick their mix, dump it into a mug, and IT'S A PARTY!

If I can get up and out the door early enough tomorrow to buy some Swerve, I really want to make these Butterfinger Bars by Maria Emmerich.

And my sweet friend who has to preview ingredients graciously sent me her own pumpkin "pie" recipe after Thanksgiving... I doubled the egg count, threw in a titch of stevia, and we ate the whole danged thing. So she's getting a ramekin of that with whipped coconut cream tomorrow. In a heart shape, because I love her, and I'm a dork, and it'll make her smile.

Then we'll sit and catch up on each other's lives over the last week. We'll share a few quiet minutes while the kids play The Resistance and yell in the other room. We'll refresh our spirits and bolster ourselves for the coming week. It's good stuff.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Figuring Out Foreign Language

I had some really fantastic plans for foreign language study when we first started homeschooling. Oh, it was going to be FUN!

We have since discovered that I am a wannabe polyglot, and I have children who are... not. I would be perfectly content if Z could get one-year assignments abroad, allowing us to study languages by immersion, for the next, say, 5-10 years. The children, while willing to travel, are happy with their native tongues and the occasional random foray into other modern languages. (One of them knows how to swear in Russian. Not sure how to put that on a transcript, but I'll let you know when I get the wording just right.) But mostly, they love math. And science. And art. And music.

I spent several very confused years parsing this whole thing out. Then another year or two trying to figure out how to plug the holes in the now-abandoned plan.

But you know what? It's OK. They plugged their own holes. And they have a strong foundation, in spite of my efforts. And mostly, they're happy.

They even come tell me things they've learned now, instead of trying not to make eye contact for fear I'll ask how that Latin is coming.

And then, we have Em. She thinks in pictures. It's due to a supreme combination of fortitude and mercy that she reads fluently and can spell well enough to know when to ask someone to check it for her. Her world is in pictures and textures, hues and values, shapes and contours. There is decoration, detail and proportion. It's a beautiful world, but it's not a wordy world. What were we going to do for a child who doesn't even think in words in her own language?

Z still hasn't landed an overseas gig, so there goes that plan for now.

Enter ASL. We took a course this fall, mostly with the intention of getting out of the house and learning something different. She liked it. It made sense to her. She's *really* good at it. And when the instructor explained that ASL is a conceptual language, Em nodded and bobbled happily in her seat, as if that were the most natural thing in the world. I knew we'd found a winner.

It's kind of fascinating. And, I get to learn a new language, too! Jase is in on it, too, because he's game for pretty much anything.

So when your children exert their personhood, don't panic. Take a deep breath, exhale, celebrate who they are and what they love. Keep expecting good things from them, and doing all the things you do, anyway -- because that's what we do, right? And who knows what fun surprises you'll find along the path they pick!

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Getting Back Into It

I was helping one of the boys with his planning tonight and had to do something on the computer. He he asked if I was going to blog about it. I paused for a minute before answering.

Uh, no, I wasn't.

He asked why.

I told him I hadn't blogged regularly in ages, and hadn't blogged hardly at all this year, but that I didn't really know why. Just hadn't.

"Oh. You should."

Huh.

So, I thought I would give it a try again. But I'm not entirely sure what direction to go.

The kids are all going a million different ways. Senior year, Junior year... jobs, college, car repairs... chickens, art, books... 8th grade, 5th grade, 3rd grade... we need to make paper... but there's already so much paper all over the house...

Z's still hoping to move.

We're still really fortunate to have great people in our lives...

I had my six-month scan, and am still cancer-free. I was so relieved, I went home and slept for four hours. Ha! Such a party animal these days. My bloodwork was so good that the doc agreed with my initial plan (we had not... always been on the same page), and I'll do labs again in June and won't do another scan until Jan '18. (So, being able to blog about Something Other Than Cancer will make the prospect of writing again significantly more appealing.)

And that's the plan. It's not much of a plan, but I tell the kids that they won't move forward if they don't move at all. Guess I'll take my advice.

Be encouraged.
~Dy

Pfft. Well, there you go.

I started writing again with the intent to sit down once a week. Anyone can do that. Right? Evidently not. I'm not sure what happened since the 8th. Well, no, that's not true. I've driven. About 1800 miles this week, alone. So much time in the Suburban.

I really appreciate air conditioning in the car.

And cup holders.

And teens who shower, who share their music, and who remember to bring water. They make everything easier.

James has been working on his Eagle project. And modeling. And taking summer classes at the local college. Blessedly, we discovered Flonase this month, so he's handling it all really well and only feels mildly overwhelmed. But he can breathe! And think! It's wonderful!

John has been anxiously awaiting the arrival of his card from his driver's ed class, so he can go get his license. In the meantime, I've gotten to know our insurance agent quite well as I call and plead for leniency in adding two adolescent males to the same policy at the same time. She's very kind, but there's not a lot they can do. When I finish writing today, I'm going to go find bean recipes to add to our already fantastic repertoire.

The rest of us are bumping along, listening to Terry Pratchett in the car, singing songs in the car, and playing I Spy in the car. Because have I mentioned that we've done a lot of driving? Yeah, that needs to stop.

So I volunteered for a turn hosting book club at the house in order to prod me into cleaning. Works like a charm. And then, I suppose it's time to start rounding up materials for the start of school.

I wonder if I should get a binder with a hard cover, so I can write in the car?

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Well, that was awesome. And I need to work on my geography.

We ran away. Just piled the kids in the car, hired the Most Wonderful Housesitter in the World to stand in for us, and took off to Colorado for a week. If you can swing it, I highly recommend it.

Having two additional drivers made the trip a total breeze. They are expensive to insure, thanks to the unpredictability of that Y chromosome, and they are expensive to feed, thanks to... well, I'm not sure what's going on, there, but it's costly. But boy, are they worth it on a road trip!

We've made the drive Out West many times over the last 12 years, so I didn't really plan the route or make reservations (like I do that on a first-run? whatever. anyway. This is probably why Z doesn't like it when I travel while he's gone*.) We loaded up, I asked them to fire up the navigator and off we went. I didn't actually look at the navigator, and we leave it muted. In hindsight, this is tantamount to drugging your map reader and making him ride in the back seat blindfolded. At any rate, it didn't dawn on me that we might be taking a different route when we went through Nashville instead of Memphis. Or rather, I figured there was road work, or a giant accident, maybe even an alien landing, that may have re-routed us. When we hit Kentucky, though, and Jacob announced, "I've never been to Kentucky!" I realized we were on foreign ground for getting from Here to There. And I was not entirely certain how or why we were there.

Then we hit Illinois. And I know that I took geography, and did rather well in it, but in my head, Illinois has Chicago (which it does, but not the way my brain interprets that information), and that meant we were very near the Great Lakes (no, we weren't), which, based on what I had decided was a rapidly deteriorating grasp of geography, was probably not the fastest way to get to Colorado from Alabama...

But we were on a road trip, so what the heck. We'll trust Google. Either it'll pan out, or we'll be seeing Mt. Rushmore around lunchtime tomorrow, right?

Missouri came next (as it is wont to do, if you're traveling West through Southern Illinois, but I made a mental note to spend more time on North American geography with the Littles, at least. It's too late for the older ones, who also vaguely suspected we had just veered way north, then way south, and where were we going, anyhow? I promised to drop a few bucks into their therapy jar when we returned home).

It was at this point that I had to pull over and see just WHERE we were, and how we were going to get where we wanted to go. From the looks of it, Kansas was next (that was another total surprise - I've been to nearly every state in the Continental US and have somehow never actually been in Kansas. I think). And it's about an hour and a half shorter than the route we usually take (score one for the creepy-yet-effective Google algorhithms!) So on we went.

If I had planned ahead, or even looked at the map beforehand, we could have seen friends on the way. Actually, now that I realize they don't live eight days' travel by boxcar from our place, we may be able to see them more often.

Texts with Z were fun.

"How's it?"

"Good. Just stopped at the weirdest gas station I think I've ever seen. Heading your way, now."

"What was it?"

"Bernie's. If they weren't so far out in the middle of nowhere, I'm prety sure they'd have to answer for some severe copyright violations. The logo looks like The Walking Dead hit the Weekend at Bernie's set and did some damage."

"...where are you?"

"Kansas."

"Why are you in Kansas?"

"I have no idea. But we'll be there tonight! Gotta go, John's driving."

Probably didn't do a lot to make him more comfortable with the idea of me dragging the children on road trips without him. I see that, now. Maybe I'll do better next time. Probably not. We had a lot of fun! And we made it safely to Colorado, where we spent a wonderful week exploring, hiking, trying to think of ways to convince Z that we should all move into a small apartment above a store in Manitou Springs...

*Note: his reluctance to embrace me road tripping without him has nothing to do with my capabilities or lack thereof (hey, we made it in one piece, in record time). It has to do with the idea of everything he values most in this world hurtling across the planet in a metal box, surrounded by potential psychopaths and texting drivers while he is far, far away and unable to do anything about any of it. And maybe a little bit of my refusal to learn to make an itinerary. But mostly it's just the "I love you, please be safe, why don't you wait and we'll all go to Florida together when I get back" kind of thing. It's sweet. I appreciate it, even if I don't always show it.

And now, we are home.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

So, we survived...

PET scan in April showed complete remission. I'm really glad for that. A side effect of chemo I hadn't anticipated was the chemo brain. Suddenly, I was totally incapable of doing the *one* thing I've done for the last 17 years - managing our home. It's taken me about that long to get good at it, and suddenly, *POOF*, gone. I couldn't do it. I couldn't interpret a calendar. I couldn't remember what we were supposed to do. I couldn't formulate complete thoughts that led anywhere. It was like living with the Cheshire Cat in control of all cognitive processes. That pretty well tanked all my good intentions to have blog entries about the chemo process and beating cancer (because I totally had no intention of losing this one). Not that anyone would have known that, had I lost. (Aaaannnd, someone's talking to me, again, in spite of the fact that I'm typing. This is significantly easier to cope with when I have my brain back, but I've gotta tell you, it still makes me feel stabby.)

Anyway, we did it. We survived. And now, we're picking up the pieces. There are more pieces than I'd expected. It's like coming out of an amnesiac state only to find your family has suffered some kind of traumatic event that you don't quite know how to address. But we're working on it.

We're also piecing together the educational train wreck that was our Year of Unintentional Unschooling. Turns out, we're lousy unschoolers in general, but not entirely. The kids have continued to learn, in spite of the bizarre circumstances. And I'd wager that the stress of Educating with Dory was less of a hurdle that trying to maintain an institutional schedule would have been. So, there's that. Hurrah for Unintentional Wins!

You want to know what the best thing is for a family surviving chemo? Good friends. I don't mean well-meaning people who can't quite make eye contact but they feel really badly for you. I mean the kind of friends who will take your kids while you have a bone marrow biopsy. The kind of friends who will take up the slack in your co-op schedule because you can look straight at the syllabus and not be able to say whether you need to prepare for oxidation or molarity next week. Because words are hard when your brain doesn't work. The kind of friends who will still be willing to sit and chat with you about over coffee about normal stuff - the weather, books, the upcoming art festival, books-that-aren't-about-cancer, the last Scout trip, and maybe books. I can't tell you how much that means when you're in the middle of a weird experience that you don't want to be in, that doesn't necessarily have an end point, and that may not have the outcome you'd banked your very life on. Be that friend. Have that friend. We were so, so blessed to have more than one, and I just hope I live long enough to pay it forward, backward, and under the table. Because these people were the real sanity savers.

And that, my friends, is so much more than I could have wished for.

Be encouraged!
~Dy

On Words and Writing

I love words. Words connect us to each other and allow us to find new ways of seeing the world. Words give us strength when we cannot feel it, and hope when we cannot see it. Words help us identify, explain, and further our goals and dreams; they help us understand the goals and dreams of others. Words are fantastic.

I've spawned at least one child who would be perfectly content if we shared information in binary and just left it at that.

So, you can imagine how incredibly awful it is for us to proof or edit one another's work.

Today, he's filling out an internship application for a position (I have no idea what) doing something (again, no clue) that sounds "absolutely fascinating" to him (and which the rest of us cannot fathom doing without serious remuneration and/or cajoling). OK, that sounds bad. Honestly, I am a supportive parent. I don't have to understand what he loves to smile and nod and bring him cookies. I love that his passion is so far beyond anything I can even comprehend enjoying - it's a dead giveaway that it's wholly his, right?

Anyway, they want him to explain his interests and career goals and why he thinks this position would be beneficial in helping him further his goals. He keeps drawing a blank. He goes into bullet point mode and can't fashion a full sentence. He gets why it's important, but this part doesn't come easily. So he's toiling away, creating syntax, miserable. Meanwhile, my head is exploding with anecdotal miscellany and descriptive explanations. He insists it's not helping. I curled up with a book, thinking I'd just be nearby if he needed me to proof a turn of phrase or find just the right word. (That, too, turned out to be unhelpful, because the book is hilarious, and now there's snorfling and laughing in the background, which is probably an honest impediment. I migrated to another room. Maybe that will help.)

If he were to let me write his blurb, this is what it would say (and I'm guessing I've got much of the actual jargon wrong - he'd have to proof it, although I'm afraid just reading it would make him want to cry):

I love the satisfaction of an efficient system: fast ping rate, smooth upload times, clean data caches. Little makes me as happy as a streamlined LAN or a powerfully configured network system. These things are beautiful to me, and I appreciate them. Because the Universe has seen fit to place me in a home filled with people who tell stories and read literature instead of checking their port settings, who cannot be bothered to care what the router configuration is or whether the connection is secure, I have had the freedom to explore and create, to learn as I go. In spite of, or perhaps due to, the seeming disparity between the things I value most dearly and that which matters to my overlords, I have learned much. I have accomplished much. 

I like my code clean and crisp, my passcodes convoluted and opaque. I want to learn from the masters and know the secrets of increased uptime and of pushing our processors to their limits. I want to work among others who value the beauty of a well-designed system, and to learn from those who know what is Good. 

And this, my friends, is why Z won't let me help with his resumes, either.

So they've both kicked me out, now, and I'm just going to finish one more chapter... But maybe they'll let me help with the cover letter?

Be encouraged~
Dy

The weather has cooled off so nicely, and we don't have any of our cold weather clothing out! Also, I realized the other day, when the high was 65 degrees, that we don't really understand "cold weather" anymore. We were freezing! (It was wonderful.)

We saw the strangest thing at dance last week: the Mayberry PD car. Or, maybe not the, but a (although... how many of these are there?) At any rate, I thought it was neat and made the Littles go stand in front of the door for a picture. The Bigs would have understood how cool it was, but they were off being responsible. The Littles let me know they thought it was awkward, and potentially inappropriate, to approach someone else's vehicle and take pictures. 

When we do groceries, we try to find something new to try. We've always done this, and it's just sort of our thing, now. (When the boys were small, it was more a clever means to avoid the impulse buys at checkout - nobody thought to whine over a candy bar when he was holding his very own pineapple or ugly fruit or whatever delight he'd found in produce. Now, it's habit.) This week, Jase and Em found a beautiful, colorful, enticing vat of assorted licorice candies at Sprouts! They smelled horrible, but we had stuck to the list and we hadn't grabbed anything unique, so we thought this would be something fun to try. It was fun, but they tasted about as good as they smelled. I think James got them all -- he's the only one who found anything positive to say about them. The rest of us just took a snapshot and called it good.

And back to schooling. Or not. While the Bigs worked on portfolios and chemistry research, I found the Littles camped out in the den, playing a game they'd created. They were still hashing out the rules, but paused so I could snap a pic for Z. Sometimes, a little reminder of why we're doing what we do goes a long way toward getting us through another long day.

This has been low immunity week for me. I'm covered in bruises, a little tired, and more than a little irritable. Thankfully, it's short-lived. In the meantime, life! School, reading, playing, dancing, hiking. Not nearly enough napping. We should remedy that. But the rest? It's good. Even when it's a little awkward, or gross, or not really what we ought to be doing at all, it's good. I'm glad for that.

Be encouraged~
Dy

FALL IS HERE!

It's my favorite time of the year - time to sit on the balcony in the mornings and shiver with a cup of coffee. In a little while, I'll be able to grab a hoodie and curl up. This is the reward for surviving the Summer, and it is awesome.

In the meantime, this is also the time of year when ALL THE THINGS need doing: ACT registration, PSAT registration, clearing leaves off the roof and driveway, last mow of the season, winterizing the home, planning for the holidays. Additionally, there's driver's license road exam (James), permit (for John), switch out the clothing (gah, the basement is the bane of my existence these days), and staying on task for school.

About the only thing we're not doing this fall that we normally do is getting firewood onto the porch. We took the wood stove out in April when we built the wall, and there just isn't anywhere for it to go, now. Fortunately, we have a dual fuel HVAC system - heat pump and propane - so we're all set for winter. It'll be different not having wood heat this winter, but I'm more than a little excited about not having the master bath be ass-bitingly cold in the mornings. There's an up side to everything.

Meanwhile, school is going along swimmingly. (It's actually going well, even without grading on a chemo curve!) The older boys are enjoying Lost Tools of Writing. John even mentioned the other day that he took out his ANI template in order to write a history essay. "It really helped!" (Oh, hallelujah!) **** James is hoping to sign up for AoPS' Intermediate Counting and Probability class in November. I'm just hoping they don't fill up before I can get the registration done. **** Jacob has stopped glaring at the First Form Latin videos (years of butchered pronunciation on my part is making the transition to their pronunciation difficult, regardless of how much more clear and accurate theirs is - I've apologized, but change is hard).****  Em and Jase are loving - absolutely loving - Memoria Press' Insects study! That was a sleeper win that I wasn't expecting, and I am so thankful for it. It's been helpful that we started early enough in the year that insects have been plentiful and given us ample opportunity for sketching and observation.

We'll be taking a break in a bit to enjoy the Autumnal weather, make some warm cider and read some books just for fun. I'm looking forward to that the way a six-year-old looks forward to Christmas morning. Good stuff.

Be encouraged,
~Dy

Saturday Doings

The boys collected donations this morning to send BSA popcorn to the troops overseas. Now John's nerding with his People. James is doing the school work he couldn't get done during the week, and JakeRabbit is wandering about, pretending to be looking for his copy of Ivanhoe... Z put up the brick molding on the new door. I used the time in town without children to pick up some much needed garments (also decided I need to drop a good 30 pounds and spend all the grocery money on Target's fall line - PONCHOS, people! They have ponchos! ~swoon~), ran laundry, and got in some work.

The Littles played video games until Em wandered in to lie on the couch and stare pitifully at anyone who wandered by as she whispered, "I'm hungry..." (This is a clear case of Video Game Head. There was bacon, pancakes, and nut butter all within arm's reach. She didn't have to languish on the couch. But I'm convinced video games turn my otherwise intelligent children into garden slugs.)

Every few minutes, people switch it up. JakeRabbit runs a load of wash and then plays Modern Warfare 3 with Z. We check with James to see how his Japanese is coming along and he is reminded that he's not, in fact, supposed to be playing TeamFortress2, but is supposed to be doing the work he didn't get done during the week. (This is always a surprise to him, based on the "Oh," he utters when we check.) Jase is loving the goat simulator on his brother's tablet, insisting I watch as his penguin self slides about, or his goat version licks random passersby. It's a gross looking game, but I'll probably see about getting it on my tablet because sometimes you just want to be a giraffe on a trampoline. I'm a little concerned about starving to death, though, since I doubt Video Game Head is limited to just children... But first, some reading and a snack.

The weather is gorgeous. Fall is coming! Tonight's low is in the high 40's, which means if it doesn't rain, there will be coffee on the balcony in the morning! These weekends are perhaps my favorite in the cycle of days. They are quietly busy, relaxed and pleasant.

Be encouraged ~
Dy

Half-Way Point

We got the results of the scan today, and we're on track to wrap this up in November. It's not gone (it may never be gone), but it is responding, and the scary bits have backed off quite a bit. I didn't realize until we got back in the car that I'd been holding my breath, so to speak, since the scan. Prior to that, I'd been so busy bracing myself. Once I exhaled, I was left with a deep tiredness. Happy, yes. Thankful, certainly. But mostly exhausted. *whew* What a ride.

At the halfway mark, I've noticed a few things:

* I'm not getting the awesome weight loss I'd hoped for. Hrmpfh. But now that the masses aren't pressing on my arteries, I can get back to the gym. Maybe give things a boost for this last few laps.

* While food smells don't make me sick or nauseous, I'm not loving food the way I normally do (and I DO love me some food!) I still eat, but I can't remember the last time I was legitimately hungry, and I sound like Ben Stein when I compliment the food. (Go ahead, say, "this is delicious" or "this is great, thank you" using his monotone inflection. You'll laugh at yourself. Or at me. It's OK. I laugh at myself, too.)

* Still not 100% okay with the thought that this is a life-long chronic condition. However, a friend said something at the onset of this that another friend reminded me of today. It's going to be my focus for the coming months: a lot of people die with lymphoma, but not many people die of lymphoma. (If you tilt your head a bit and half-smile when you say it, that's actually very encouraging. People die with acne, or with a lisp, or with a cowlick, too. We all have things we'd like to change. But still we live.)

* When you don't look sick, people forget that you need help. You have to ask for it. Sometimes, you have to sit on the couch and announce, "This is low immunity week and I am not moving until there is somewhere safe in this house for me to move to."

* Moving helps. And sometimes not moving helps. It's important to listen to your body without guilt or letting your inner voice tell you how it should be.

* People can be awesome. Let them.

* This is hard on others, too, and it's hard to find that balance between getting what you need and helping others get what they need. But it's important to try.

There's probably more. Strike that, there is more, so much more. I'm looking forward to posting a what-I've-learned entry at the end of this.

So Monday's another round of chemo. Moving forward. We've got this.

Be encouraged~
Dy

Mid-way Through

Today is my mid-point scan. Part of me thinks we should re-enact the fight of the 6yo me who didn't want to go to Mrs. Schnitzius' class. (It was a pretty epic fight on a six-year-old's scale.) The adult part of me is being rather stoic and philosophical, preparing and planning. Thank God that part still functions. As I went through the prep instructions, I got to the part about clothing. They recommend "comfortable clothing with no metal (like zippers)". I have... Well, I have one piece of clothing that fits this requirement.

A pair of yoga pants.

So I sat in my room, stared at my yoga pants, and wondered for a while if I could actually wear them out in public with a straight face when I know full well that I'm not working out. I'm not even going to walk quickly today. Then I slipped them on and giggled a bit.

A friend texted some support and I shared the situation with her. She reminded me of this, and now we both have this song stuck in our heads...




It's also JakeRabbit's birthday. He's at the lake with friends, celebrating another friend's birthday, so although I miss him and hate that his birthday is Scan Day, I know he's having a lot more fun than we are! My friend (the other boy's mother) sent me a pic of JakeRabbit enjoying a birthday breakfast, complete with bacon, eggs, and a cake. They're going to swim before the storms hit, then hang and play and squirrel around indoors. Not a bad way to turn 12.

OK. First bottle of Redi-Cat down (berry is a lot easier to choke down that the mocha -- it tastes less metallic). Time to crack open the second bottle and take this bad boy on.

Be encouraged~
Dy

Crazy Good Week

I love those. The kind of week that brings beautiful weather (that it's been in August is a double-bonus), good food (menu plan for the win!), and fun interactions with the kids (on top of, or in lieu of, the regular routine of "do you have this" and "did you do that" and "seriously, please just get up"...)

We're at about 85% on schooling. My goal for August was 50%, so W00t! I'm not sure what it will look like once we add Chemistry to the schedule and Latin's in full-swing, but we're about to find out. Every year, it's like we're new here. Some things don't change, and to some extent you do hit your stride and feel like you can say you're a veteran homeschooler. Some things, though, seem to morph and change each year and you're starting over. I may have seen two others through 7th grade, but this is JakeRabbit's first year as a 7th grader... SURPRISE!

Em and Jase have been prepared to hate everything. So far, they've loved all of it. We chose Memoria Press' Insects study for science -- they do nature study regularly, but I thought a few years of focused instruction on specifics within the animal and plant kingdoms would be beneficial. This way, we aren't always having to look up what we find - sometimes it's a nice treat to be out and about and be able to say, "Oh, look! I've found a such-and-such!" or "Ohhh, the whatsits are out!" Huge win. There's a certain boost a child gets from checking out a library book and discovering he already knows the terminology in it. Or from seeing an unidentified animal in a book and realizing he knows what it is (thank you, Google, for providing verification on that one - totally made his day!)

And last night was Shakespeare in the Park, up in Nashville. (It's actually running until mid-September -- if you can make it, you are in for a treat! Check it out at Nashville Shakes.) They're doing Henry V. We had a wonderful group of young men and fun parents. The whole evening was, as is normal for the Nashville Shakespeare Festival, top notch and magical.

Soon, we'll be back to ballroom dance, Jr. Master Gardener, classes and outings and fun. Plus, Fall is coming!!

Be encouraged!
~Dy

Stretching

I stretched this morning -- I mean full-body, head to toes, the kind of stretch that leaves every muscle relaxed and happy  -- for the first time in three days. It was the most delicious thing. (I can't stretch on shot day or the day after, because of the tenderness in my bones. And for whatever reason, I don't think to get one big cat-stretch in the day before, to tide me over. That should go on my phone reminders.)

And that, pretty much, is all we've done this past week. The rest of the week looks like a poorly designed to-do list of a very boring person:

Monday - Chemo, tidy the house, read
Tuesday - Chemo, tidy the house while wondering aloud if we hadn't already done this, read
Wednesday - Shot, breakfast with a friend (total highlight, there!), return home to wonder rather loudly and pointedly if we hadn't JUST DONE THIS while we tidied. Again.
Thursday - slept, and moved very slowly when not sleeping
Friday - cleaned up from all the tidying that didn't happen Thursday

Perhaps a very boring person who lives with vandals.

Oh, and I think I fell asleep during a Chemistry video at some point.

So, yeah, the highlight of my day today was a big old stretch in which I didn't fall asleep mid-way or cringe in discomfort. It was a good day!

James is caught up on his school work. John is enjoying some gaming with friends. The littles are binge-watching YouTube instead of having video game time (I have no idea why, but that's what they picked). Zorak's going to pick up some Captain D's for dinner, and that means I get to punt tonight's plan to tomorrow afternoon! Win, win, win. What a fantastic day.

Be encouraged,
~Dy

Chemo, Round 3

This week is my third round of chemo. Long day today, short day tomorrow (unless there are fluids, then it's another long 'un), and then a shot - once a month. And this is our halfway point.

It's crazy, because going into it, that's the scary part: the chemo. (Dear God, they're going to pump cytotoxic chemicals directly into my heart? :thud: ) In practice, the actual chemo treatment is pretty pleasant and mundane, and with the nausea and pain medications available, management of those symptoms is getting better and better. Most people at least get to the car before they get sick-sick. So, it's not perfected. But we are lucky and I haven't been sick. So, it's like a lousy date. Z comes with me, we bring our own food (because all the snacks on the crack cart are pretty much genetically engineered to feed your cancer and shut down your metabolism - seems like a poorly thought out plan for offerings), pull the curtains and watch movies.

The scary part is scheduling a mid-point scan to see if anything new has cropped up, or if the cancer is even responding to the therapy. I feel like I'm being required to play Russian roulette. Even if this chamber is empty, I know there's a bullet in one of them. It's only a question of when it'll come up. I will live with this gun to my head for the rest of my life, pulling the trigger in increasingly longer intervals. Trying to come to terms with that reality is probably the most challenging part of all of this. From what I understand, it's something other cancer survivors understand, so it's nice to know this isn't some psychosis seeping into my mind, stealing my joy. I'm joyful, and I'm thankful. But I did not want to play this game. It's a stupid game. Who knew the scary part would be inside my head, and that I would have to learn to accept it and find the beauty around it? If I can find the harmony and the beauty in this, I will have snatched the damned pebble and Z will have to quit referring to me as Grasshopper.

But one of the beauties found in unexpected places is in the treatment room. Everyone is kind. Everyone is friendly. Everyone is cheerful. I'm telling you, if you ever want to see the most determinedly positive group of people, check out a chemotherapy treatment room. Even the people who clearly must feel like hammered dog crap can pull it together enough to be polite and kind, to smile at a stranger, to joke with the nurses. There's a lot to be learned about the resilience of the spirit in that room. I am learning. This is how you roll with the punches, people. Dang. I am in awe.

I could sleep. They have warm blankets, and the therapy chairs recline. But I choose not to. Not because I'm anti-nap, but because mentally, I feel more engaged and participatory if I'm awake. (I'm a big fan of not being awake if you don't need to be - case in point, sedation dentistry - there's nothing I can do there, and any "help" I try to offer is going to get in the way and likely to get me hurt in the process. Knock me out, do your dental magic, and wake me when it's time for more Percocet. Beautiful system.) But during chemo, and especially with the Rituximab, they want to know how you're holding up, how you're feeling, what your status is. Every 30 minutes. I don't know about everyone else, but my groggy, just awoken from a nap state is not the most articulate state. I would marble-mouth some kind of answer about being fine before even doing a full mental system check (Am I fine? I don't know. I was asleep!) Then they'd hear me and Z laughing over some inside joke and the next thing I'd know, they'd be inquiring into my drinking habits. Just, net delta, I feel better about staying awake during chemo. (For now. Come November, I may be begging for a gurney in the lobby so I can get a head start on the napping. And I guess that's the key - you deal with it in the way that works best, and if you find your approach isn't serving you well or helping you out, then change your approach. This is your body, and your healing. Go with what you can. There's no judgment to be passed or received.)

And on that non-judgy note, some of you may have flicked your eyes to my comment about the crack cart and thought, "Uh-huh. No judging, huh?" Yes, that's right. Knowing what's crap to eat when you are in a diseased state, and calling it like it is is OK. Understanding that sometimes patients are so nauseous that they simply cannot choke down proteins or fats, or even stand to smell them, and that when you're in that spot, you get what calories you can keep down to avoid a state of starvation, is imperative. The two aren't mutually exclusive. You can know better and still have to make do. You can disagree with someone's choices and still support and love on them. And when it comes to nutrition, particularly in the US, it takes a darned determined individual to sort through the kickbacks and faulty science and fads to figure out what's what and what's going to kill you. I am not even certain I've got it figured out, and this is my Thing. It's what I do - nutrition therapy is my go-to. And I can still laughingly refer to the carb-riddled snack cart as the crack cart. Because peanut butter cups are my crack. I know whereof I speak, y'all. And for now, I can resist the crack and eat the healing foods. There may be pictures of me absconding with peanut butter cups in the 10# sack from Sam's by November. I get that.

So today, we had a date. And I have made him promise me that after this is done, and we've paid off all the bills, we will start going on legitimate dates. Dates that don't require pre-emptive Ibuprofen and Benadryl 30 minutes before arriving for our reservation. Dates that might permit me to wear a dress or dancing boots -- for a reason. And I have promised to do my best to be there when it comes. That's the deal.

Be encouraged,
~Dy