Grateful for silver linings, one of which is how family and friends are gathering around us in prayer and with offers of support. Cancer is a lot of hard things. It is already proving to be a lot of connecting with loved ones and strengthening of relationships and that is so, so good.
- Peace for Shawn and I, for Kyle and Miranda and Braden and Connor, for our parents and siblings and nieces and nephews and inner circle friends watching and hurting as we go through this - that God would keep soft our children's hearts toward Him through all the emotions of this hard journey - strength and stamina; physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually - that the cancer shrinks to gone, gone, gone! - gentle side effects to this second round of chemo - family unity, harmony, love, strength, joy, happiness - anything else you feel God puts on your heart
Floating is one of my very favouritest things to do. Just be. Just breathe. Just drift.
Don't think. Don't fret. Just trust. It will be okay. Relax into it. Feel the cares melt away.
I've been working on a very long list the last few days and have been powering through it in record time. One of my projects was to complete a digital scrapbook (I use shu tter fly dot com) of our recent camping trip... wow what a lot of awesome photos of amazing days I have! My family is a bunch of crazy photographers... not a moment passes without a photo snapped.
I'm not joking.
As I looked through the photos of that one camping week, I am struck again and again by how amazing my life is. I am so very blessed with an incredible husband and four beyond-amazing blessings in our children. I have two parents who are married 40 years and who love me dearly and love their family dearly. I have two sisters, they have two stellar husbands and five amazing kids between them, that love me and love my kids and are always willing to step up and help. Shawn and I have a fun RV travel trailer that affords us summer holidaying away from home. My husband has a job that he loves and that gives him holiday time away. The memories made around building campfires and roasting wienies and burnt marshmallows and whittling sticks are absolutely precious.
Wow. I am speechless at the list of blessings in this life. God is so so so good.
I hope you can take a moment and look through your photos today... whether they are recent photos or your baby album or albums from your own children's first few years... go and open up those memories, relive the moments good and hard, see how very blessed you have been, see that God was there even in the harder circumstance and He was definitely there in the birthday parties and Christmases and sillinesses. Whether you have a personal relationship with God or not, He has been there through your days... let the smile that breaks across your face and the warmth in your heart become an awareness of a loving God who cares for you.
In my photo albums I have the usual photos... the happy smiles and great gifts and fun cakes. I also have the photos of screaming babies, typewriter ink on my new white cabinets courtesy of a two years old boy, maple syrup tracked all through new carpets courtesy of that same curious toddler. Hard days and good days, I know that God got us through them all. The photos of friends and family and loved ones are reminders of the helpers that have been here along the way: angels in our days, help from God when we asked for it and even when we couldn't think clearly to ask.
I am feeling the fullness of joy of the blessings I have received.
This encouragement was just too beautiful to not share!
In the fall, before my surgery, we had a family photo session. Today I was looking through the pictures and re-reading the kind words left in the comments section. This comment was left on that photographer's blog:
The Lord guided you into consciousness giving you that pain in your
shoulder. It is with the start of that pain that he lead you to the
issue at hand. It could have gone undetected but he wanted you to start
your journey now. The secret is to never give up. To never give in to
the enemy feeding you doubts and discouraging thoughts. Be lifted up
by the positive thoughts, wishes and prayers that the people around you
send your way and up to heaven. You are not alone in this fight. Every
person who sees these pictures or reads your story has you in their
thoughts and prayers. Positivity is the key! The journey may not be
the most pleasant but the victory won after a hard fought fight is
glorious! I expect nothing less than a total healing and in turn the
people around you and those that don't know you but know of your story,
will all learn something from this battle. Don't ever think that you
are alone in this... you have a team of people behind you sending you
the positive when you least expect it. No negative. Just remember, he
has great plans for you. He promises us all that. I cant wait to see
where this journey takes you. My heart is expecting miracles. Stay
positive and keep him close! You have an army fighting with you.
Please remember that. ~ E.S.
Shawn and I snuck out for a drive and a Sbucks last night! I love this photo of us, we are so cute!
Can you believe it? Coming up on 19 years of marriage! Amazing to think on!
With summer sunlight staying up so late, and having older kids in the house it gets almost impossible to find alone time or space for private conversation. Since I'm all for the kids cleaning up the messes, I've started dragging Shawn (he's super diligent and would rather clean the messes up first... um, hello... we have kids for that!) out after dinner while the kids clean up and so we can come home to a tidied kitchen and jammied kids. We don't do it often enough, but when we have, it has been good for all six of us to have the space and the time to get things done! I feel like I'm always sharing my husband with the kids... he is an incredibly amazing and devoted daddy... so sometimes a momma just has to take her man back and hog him all to herself! [smile]
We drove out to a local water skiing lake to check out the beaches... sand, real sand! That's a true treat for us folks on the westcoast of Canada. Our beaches are gorgeous, our views are incredible, but our rocks can be sharp and sand is hard to come by... this particular beach is man-made. We will definitely come back with the kids!
Is it better to hold them close, be in their space, parent them all through the days? Or, is it better to step back and watch and see that they can be fine without me?
Is it better to pursue relationships and be active in a friend's life? Or, is it better to relax the relationship and let that person bond with others?
How to balance the 'here and now' with the 'doctors are just waiting for cancer to overtake me' with the desire and need for relationship?
Wanting to pour into my children's lives as I always have, but afraid that it would be harder for them if I was gone.
Being so sick during chemo did, somewhat, remove me from my children's lives. But, there was hope that I was getting better each time. There was the climb back up out of chemo darkness and they knew they could still come to me, although definitely with more care and quiet.
Wanting to rush and do and be and partake. Afraid to let me own hopes soar... no, more afraid of the words that will dash those soaring hopes. God keeps me soaring, Satan keeps trying to crash me, man/humans/doctors are just the messenger.
Yesterday it was as if cancer hadn't come. Almost. Probably the closest to that I've had. Even in the moments where my breathing was a little difficult or I had a cough and panic tried to set in, I still felt so normal, unencumbered, just almost free. But even in those moments of feeling 'free-er than usual' I knew it was just that... not the true freedom I used to feel, live, enjoy, be. And I felt lost. I'm still struggling to figure out who this new Kristin is. I am so changed.
I have joy. And it is followed by tears. I have anxious moments, which are quickly turned to praise for God's faithfulness and thankfulness for Him getting me this far.
I don't know how to talk to people, close people, anymore. I feel so very careful about what I say, to protect myself from wandering thoughts. To protect them from the hard and scary and crappy bits. Living in the moment is good for me emotionally and panic-wise, but it feels a little hollow, too. Part of the fun is in the looking-forward-to-it, and I'm afraid to look forward because that inevitably brings so many other unwanted thoughts with it.
So, back to focusing right here and now. And a smile comes quickly to my face. Right here, right now, I am enjoying summer holiday with the kids. Right here, right now, I am enjoying the quiet of the house and the click of keyboard keys as B and I both spend some computer time. I love watching him, the way he holds his hands, the way his lips sort of purse when he is in concentration. I love hearing his little quiet whistles, and his whispers (a new skill!) make me smile because of all the "SHH!" I have done over the years to help remind him to "lower your volume".
I am smiling to think on how Shawn is still sleeping and how he looks in our bed. I love how warm and squooshy C will be when he emerges and sleepy-eyes-lumbers down the stairs to find me for his good morning snuggles. I know that M is going to be hard to wake today, just like every other day (mornings aren't her thing) and I know that her hair is going to be wild and wonderful and big-messy when she gets up. And K, a tangle of teenager and blankets asleep all tumbled in his bed. Ah, bliss.
Going to get some cuddles in, I hear kids stirring and clomping down the stairs. [smile]
Finally getting that annoying tooth dealt with. Grateful for the cancellation spot that came available for me. Please pray for zero complications and speedy recovery. I am nervous about side effects and things going sideways though I have had successful root canals in the past. Happy to just get this tooth fixed!
Reading back on some blog posts from November, after surgery and leading into radiation. Reflecting on the ups and downs of even just today... the energy, the emotions, the normal mommy-tolerance stuff. This is cancer and I'm doing it!
I'm sitting here in tears and crying torrents... but happy torrents. I am just so heart-happy in this moment. How can a silly Maroon 5 song make me feel so ... in love with the lovingness of God? Crazy, right? I love how little seemingly inconsequential things can just stop me in my tracks and bowl me over with how loved I am, how much I love my God, how much I love the people around me, these kids, my husband, my parents and siblings and the whole gaggle of family that I am blessed with.
So, you may not know this about me... but I'm a total Nerd-wanna-be! I love books, I love Big Bang Theory, I love sciencey stuff, I love inventions, I love math (though it's is really not my strong suit at all... in fact, I totally suck at it!), and I love games! I don't have a super long attention span for games, but I love'em. Hmm... maybe I'm already a Nerd. That's awesome!!!
Now that our oldest child is 14, and especially since all four kids seem to like games as much as Mommy does, we are playing more and more together. It is awesome to be past the Clue Jr and Monopoly Jr and Scrabble Jr phase and be moving on to bigger, more detailed games. In fact, as part of our basement reclamation project (aka 'dunging out the toy room') we are setting up a games shelf (this is what Gamer-Nerds do, so as not to crush the boxes under each other... how awesome is that!) and games table. Some of these little treasures take a couple of hours to play so we need to not be setting up on the kitchen table where dinners are served!
Ah, how happy it made me to open this new game and see all the little tokens waiting to be set free from their packaging... ooh, and set into their divided tray. Ahhhhhh, bliss! Now, to figure it out... the kids are chomping at the bit waiting for me... well, they are actually playing another new game, 'Martian Dice' (super fun, dice game, highly recommend) while they wait... but I can feel their buzz of excitement and their impatience in the air about me.
What a lovely and good July we are having. Lots of days lounging at the lake. We got to go camping with the kids and even extended family. The Canada Day Parade was a blast. I've had lots of opportunity to visit with friends. Mom and Keri and Kori and I just returned from a whirlwind trip to Calgary to meet our newest baby cousins and visit with family there. So many good things. So. many. good. things.
And I am weepy. I have gotten pretty good at not thinking beyond this moment I am in. Anything more tumbles my thoughts quickly into a tangle of worries and fears and sorrows that trip me up and weigh me down. Planning for the fall is a dangerous, too-close-to-the-edge slippery slope. Need to register for extra-curriculars, should have done that already, can't quite do it, fear. Not actually fear but apprehension maybe? It is always there, just below the surface. I am smiling, and enjoying, and savouring, and living, and rejoicing, and loving, and doing. I feel good. I have some coughs. Every cough is a worry.
Tears fall silently. They escape in moments of love, when my heart flows over with the immense feelings I have towards my children, my husband. My parents. My sisters. My longtime friends. My dear ones. Today I am cranky. This week I have been cranky. Everything is too much. The pressure to 'enjoy the moment' and the reality of 'you still have cancer'. I wonder if I will ever get the hang of this balance.
Had an amazing visit with a longtime-on-my-heart friend today. Got stuff done that needed to be done. Finding it really hard to be home. I need to be here and to rest. Hard to do with kids on summer holidays, harder to do when the couch and the recliner and the tissue box and the everything remind me of chemo days. Harsh flashbacks hit me out of left field and if I don't see them coming, don't brace myself against their force, I am knocked off my feet physically and emotionally.
So... not thinking. Just smiling and being and stopping-what-I'm-doing to really focus on the kids when they speak to me. And not thinking. Thinking is dangerous and hard on the emotions.
Finding it hard to even chat with people. We tend to talk about tomorrow, don't we? About what's coming up next. I can't do that. I can't ... risk the emotion and the worries. I just keep laying all that mess at the feet of Jesus. He comforts me. He holds me. He just smiles at my worries and sends me peace. Most moment, most days, most of the time it is really God's peace that I feel. Even in the moments that tears roll down my face, I have peace.
I want to blog for you, share with you, keep you updated. I feel ... grateful for your faithful care and prayers these last many months. I feel responsible to keep up my side of the relationship. I don't want to be a bummer. I'm doing pretty good I think. Just floating at the surface of the days. And I think that's okay for this season.
Are you doing anything fun this summer? Spending time with your kids? Spitting watermelon seeds? Slushie runs? Water fights? I hope so. Have fun, be silly, live in the moment. Don't worry about savouring it or memorizing it or figuring it out or judging it. Just be.
Isn't this a beautiful perspective (article below)... it is about motherhood, but I think it can also apply to so many relationships we have, even to our own life. Every connection we make with another person is an opportunity to build them up and speak encouragement into their lives. Kristin
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of
response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on
the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t
you see I’m on the phone?’ Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or
sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because
no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I
am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie
this? Can you open this?? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being.
I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer,
‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around
5:30, please.’ Some days I’m a crystal ball; ‘Where’s my other sock? Where’s my phone?, What’s for dinner?’ I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and
the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had
disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going,
she’s going, and she’s gone! One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the
return of a friend from England . She had just gotten back from a
fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed
in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together
so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was
feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully
wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the
great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to
me until I read her inscription: ‘With admiration for the greatness of
what you are building when no one sees.’ In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I
would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths,
after which I could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the
great cathedrals – we have no record of their names. 2) These builders
gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. 3) They
made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their
building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to
visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman
carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked
the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a
beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the
workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’ I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It
was Almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you. I see the
sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake
you’ve baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small
for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but
you can’t see right now what it will become. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great
builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never
see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The
writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever
be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to
sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the
friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up
at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That
would mean I’d built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to
come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend,
he’d say, ‘You’re gonna love it there…’ As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen
if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world
will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has
been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers. —Anonymous [Source: http://whatcomfamilies.com/2013/05/11/the-invisible-mother/]
Feeling over-"to do"-ed. So many people I want to visit with. So many piles of stuff we are sorting through and dunging out. So many events to share in. So many rooms to take back after those long, dark chemo months of not-much-got-done-beyond-the-basics. And then summer schedule and daddy on holiday and kids to camps and play dates and spending time with our own six and feeling pressured as I balance "make moments count" with the reality of "sometimes mommy needs some alone time" and the guilt-worry-laying-fears-down and doctor words and and and.
These are good days. I am not complaining at all. I am just trying to figure out this new current reality. And apparently I'm not as good at change as maybe I once was! [eye roll] [chuckle]
And part of this, I know, is the usual summer-is-here / school's-out shuffle!!
Go... Enjoy your day! Do something that makes you heart happy!
Port flush today... Done in record time! Like, under seven minutes from waiting room to elevator ride back to the van! The nurse was so kind, so sad to hear my story but so encouraged with how well I look and seem. Yay! And, she got blood on the first draw!!! Thank you, Lord!! For the many, many, many blessings. For the people holding us in their prayers. May people see You in my story. [smile]
I woke up with a smile in my heart. God's peace. Even in my sleepiness I was feeling a smile. God is good. I am grateful for this day. I am excited for what God is doing in my family and with us. I look forward to getting things done today and spending time with my peeps chillaxin' a little. It is a good day. A good, good day. Be open to God's good for your day, too, k?!
Had a follow-up cystoscopy (bladder scope) today. Should have been routine, doctor found one small and one very small polyp. "If it's cancer it would be really low grade" was his response. He explained that this wasn't as surprise to him, given my type of cancer (urinary cancer). The choice was to have a ten minutes surgery on a later date, or for him to laser the polyps today. I trust his judgement and he decided to do the procedure right then. It was gross and icky and uncomfortable and pretty intense. Apparently I did really well. When Shawn and I got back to the van I told him what happened and the tears flowed. I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't expecting news or bad news when I went today. I had to wait 1 1/2 hours for my turn because a little 91yrs old man was super late for his appointment before me. Tension. God sent me an angel: the man waiting with me for his appointment shared stories of his new grandbaby, his trip to South America, he gave me a smile and told me it'd be alright. God brought him to my morning, I needed the distraction. When my angel-friend wasn't with me I kept having flashbacks to the last time I was in that part of the hospital just two days after hearing I had cancer. It was dark and scary and I was in shock and the nurses and volunteer lady were amazing. So, this morning was just a lot. The good news today was that when I asked "how many times can you remove those polyps if they come back?" my doctor said "I have a patient who I've been following for twenty years... we just keep removing them". So that was good. My doctor was very positive. Me, I am feeling very ... into myself. I don't know what to think. I don't know how to feel. I just keep saying "thank you God" because I know it is He who is holding me upright and keeping me from crumpling. This afternoon my hubby and kids and I worked on the chaotic mess that is our basement family room. We did get lots accomplished and that felt good. Please keep praying for Shawn and I and the kids and my parents and my sisters and our extended family and our friends? Thank you.
I am having trouble hitting the 'post' button on this. I don't know why. I have been very honest with you, very open. I am feeling very raw I think, emotionally confused and unsure and lost. Living in each moment, focusing on the here and now. Loving my husband and kids, thanking God for the day as it comes, rejoicing in the good and the miraculous. It is curious to me that the doctor was very surprised that I am not on any meds except the thrombosis medication. All along this journey the nurses have commented "really? you're not on anything" and I am chalking those up to miracles. God is taking care of me, us, this. I am grateful. This morning was hard. The rest of the day was... moving forward.
Spent the day at the lake with my sisters and their families and the sand and the sun. Was a lovely and relaxed day. Yesterday we arrived home from a week of camping, that was a good week, too. I don't think I'm in denial, but I just don't know what to say so it is easier to just not say much of anything. Definitely drawing into myself right now. Keep reaching out to me, okay? And definitely keep praying. God is taking care of us and I still believe He has miracles and miracles and miracles for us... the best one is that His peace is very present in our lives.
Cute moment this morning with C (6yrs) at the grocery store today: We were walking through the store and I was about four paces ahead of him. He is a chatter-er and was keeping up a dialogue that I wasn't following. He said, "I'm not alone, Mommy", "did you know there is someone with me?" I turned and said, "Pardon?" His reply, pointing to the air beside him, "See that there is someone beside me? Did you know that someone is beside me?.... do you know who is beside me? Do you know that someone is always beside me?" Me, "Oh, ya?" Him, "Yes, see, it's Jesus, Jesus is always beside me, that's what they told me (in Sunday School)!" Me, "You're right, C, isn't that awesome? That Jesus is always with us? He is always right beside us." God blessing me through my baby-boy-six-years-old. [humbled]
And He is. Thank you, Lord, thank you so much for being right with me, us, always.
I have peace. I have tears if I think even a day ahead. I really am just living in the moments. God is with me. [smile]
We had our post-chemo, post-CT scan follow-up appointment yesterday.
The doctor, new to me, said quickly, "It's good news!" then, "the cancer responded favourably". So that was good and brought tears of relief. She also said, "your kind of cancer is not curable" and "you are feeling strong right now, you should do things that you want to do now" and "I will continue to closely monitor you and frequently". "The next time you have chemo it will be harder" and even though you can't just keep doing chemo forever "there are trials in Vancouver that you can be a part of". So, she seemed positive and that was good. She seemed to feel that we had options and that was good.
It was good news...but. She was very clear that the cancer is shrunk but that I still have cancer. The message was very much live in the now.
I am... overwhelmed and feeling so many things. This feels more a death sentence than the initial diagnosis did. Yesterday I was fighting to feel hope. Today I feel God smiling and holding us. I know He was yesterday, I was just overwhelmed again. I am scared of chemo ever again because it was so hard. I am trusting.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge God and He will direct your path. ~ Bible
The chemo worked, the cancer is shrunk and there are no new shadows and my guts are clear. Praise God. The cancer is shrunk, please pray that it stays shrunk for years and years and years. I want to see my kids graduate, I want to be here when my daughter is pregnant with her first child, I want to be the mother at each of their weddings, I want to watch as they continue to grow and make friends and be friends and start dating and all of those things. I am ... in disbelief... and I am trusting in God's plan for us all. And I am breaking out into random tears and I am smiling and I am laughing and I am holding the warm-fuzzy moments in my heart and I hope that the dear ones around me are committing their special or warm-fuzzy or love-filled interactions with me to heart, too.
Please, pray for us. Father God, we want and need your peace.
Trying to make plans, trying to look ahead a little and am looking forward to summer fun. And then I realize I forgot to do my shot. And then thoughts of cancer creep in. And then I want to cancel the plans and the fun and just go throw myself on my bed and let panic overtake me. Just let it roll over me and carry me away because its a lot of work to live a non-panicked life some days. You have to keep laying it down, keep trusting in God's peace and that he has a plan and I am in it. But I know I wouldn't like to feel that panicky way for real, so I bury my head in a book or go searching for junk food or find a kid to chat with. The panic is swelling and making my chest hurt right now. It is what it is. I am apprehensive about my CT results on Wednesday. I just want my life back the way it was. My innocence. My not-afraid. My ignorance. Now I feel tired.
The bookshelves were overflowing and stories were scattered around the house, some tucked under pillows even! The solution, my dream, a consolidated home library! New shelves were purchased and constructed and then kids and I brought all the books together and got them shelved. I am so happy!
I did not sleep well last night. The weather was perfectly cooled so I should have slept well. Shawn took the winter duvet off the bed... I need the weight of it. Also, last night we were making plans for next week which included a brief discussion on childcare during my oncology appointment. So as soon as I woke up to pee at 5am my thoughts turned to the CT and fear came and got a grip on my heart and mind. I prayed, God gave me a miracle... the ringing in my ears (chemo side effect) started up and I asked God to please stop it and He did, in that instant. So it was cool to lay there and sing praises in my exhaustion because that was a direct and immediate answer to prayer. And then my thoughts turned to "He's got this, Kristin" and while I was still clinging to that fear for some reason, I felt more calm and eventually was able to eventually fall back to sleep. This morning I am exhausted. Busy week since the kids got out of school, yesterday was an excellent and accomplished-stuff day, tomorrow is my brother-in-law's wedding. My emotions are spent and my energy is a little low. My tooth has an absess (remember that tooth that was troublesome on and off during chemo?) so I'm on a prescription that is new to me and will cause diarrhea and gut ache so I'm tense about that.
Not complaining, just documenting.
I know that today will be a good day ... I just need to finish waking up. Today is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it. I have enjoyed so much quality time with each of the kids, and with the four of them as a whole, this week... I love that I see it and recognize it and noticed it and savoured it. But wow, I'm tired... recovery is still slow in some areas. Oh, and last night we went for a huuuge walk after dinner so my body is feeling it for sure. LOL
I feel pressured to 'get things done' around the house. I was supposed to be graduating this (just past) spring. I was supposed to take that time between my last course and walking the stage to get the house in order after transitioning our last kid into school and transitioning myself from university student to mom to working mom. And then we got cancer.
Now that chemo is done I feel this huge pressure from myself to get the house in order... in case I get sick again... in case the CT isn't clear and I have to do chemo again... get to do chemo again... I am forever grateful that I was able to have chemo, some people cannot. And then there is the balancing of 'time with the kids' and 'time with Shawn' and 'time with family' and 'time with friends'... these are the important things that I easily and readily say "Yes, I can!" whenever the invitation and/or opportunity arises... but then I come home to this chaos-house.
And so, I need to shift my thought process from "get things done" to "wow, look at all we did in this day!" so that I am celebrating the moments and not bumming out about what's still to be done. Besides, I'd rather not look at this beautiful house and all the blessings (stuff... accumulation... yes, one-time-hoarding) as a downer, but rather work through the tasks with a cheerful heart!