June 5

Today Kyan, my middle child, my primary source of gray hair (when I had hair), my sweet smiling boy, turned 3. As many parents know, these things sneak up on us. Wasn't he just born? Just learning to walk? Just climbing on his first high surface and nearly sending me to a cardiologist? Not that 3 is old, but time flies.

Those of you who have met Kyan know that he has the best laugh. A big belly laugh that gets deeper with age. This video is a little old, but it will give you the general idea. This laugh is one of those things that when he does it after being naughty, I have to fight the urge not to smile or laugh. I don't always win that battle.

Kyan's favorite toy is Matchbox cars. We must have at least 200 (many hand me downs from his beloved cousin, Aidan). He plays with them all. He got a few new ones at his family birthday party on Sunday and he can pick those out of his collection. He organizes them by color or by type of car. He has races and crashes them, and for some reason many fly off our kitchen table. Speaking of the table, when we bought a new table I researched and researched to find one made of hard wood that was pretty kid-resistant. I forgot to research Matchbox car resistant. Let's just say our table has a "distressed" look it did not start with.

Ky is becoming a great big brother to Crosby and a wonderful little brother and playmate to Rory. Crosby sees Ky and his face just lights up. They both share a love of books, and it is fun having both of them in my lap while attempting to read a book. Rory very much wants Ky to learn to play his games - both outdoor and indoor. Kyan is interested, but not quite there yet. But, there are moments we see the glimmer of their brotherly friendship shining through.

I can't believe it has already been 3 years with my adorable little nugget, Kyan. Happy Birthday, Kyan! You have brought so much laughter and so many smiles to our home ~ I love you!

Spa Day, Interrupted

After my last round of chemo, I anticipated today being a crappy day, so I prepared. I arranged a reiki appointment this morning (went in queasy, came out feeling well ~ I can't rave enough about it) and then I scheduled a spa treatment for this afternoon.

Those of you who know me well probably just reread the last few words of that last sentence because spa treatment + Suzanne is not a common occurrence. However, last summer my Masters swim group gave me a spa treatment when I was pregnant. I couldn't use it then, so decided I would use it now. It was called the Rejuvenator, it seemed perfect to energize me on my low chemo cycle day.

First up was the sauna ~ all good there. Then I went to the mineral bath. Mid-day. On a Saturday. I was in inside. In a tub. I know this train of thought should have hit me before I was actually lounging in a mineral bath, but it didn't. The mineral bath was quite relaxing once I got over myself.

Then, onto the massage. The massage therapist came in and told me she was trained to work with patients undergoing cancer treatment (I had no idea there was such training) and asked me what type of cancer I had. I told her, and was then informed I could not receive a massage because of the type of cancer I have.

Um, what?

So, no massage. Instead I went to join Kelly and the boys at the playground. Where Kyan pushed me on a swing and we laughed at how silly it was that Ky was pushing mommy on the swing.

Twinkle Twinkle

Since Rory was born I have sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to him each night before bed. Since he could talk I have asked him every night to join me. Every now and then he would say a word, but he would never really sing the song with me. Then about a week ago he asked if he could sing "the song" with me. And it was the best rendition ever and we have done it each night since then. It took us over 4 years to get to the point where we would sing that song together. Anything we start now that will take that long I won't likely see the outcome. And that is ridiculously unfair.

Not only will I miss all the big milestones in my little boys' lives, but I will also miss all of those little moments ~ those moments that I don't even know what they will be, I just know I won't be here to see them when I so desperately want to see each and every one.

Why Your Mother Muttered

Parenting is a tough job. Parenting with a "life-threatening" illness (I really dislike that phrase) is tougher. I want my children's memories of me to involve sun drenched afternoons playing outside and picnics on the grass. Today would have been a lovely day for such memories. But, we had other things to do.

Today involved running Kyan to an appointment, taking Crosby for a walk so he would sleep, and telling Rory that, no, he could not spend the afternoon naked (I blame my father-in-law for that) while he went traipsing through the woods with grandma. Then I was getting dinner ready and the Rory and Kyan were not sharing well. What am I saying? Rory and Kyan were not sharing. There is no "well" about it. So the "two minute sharing rule" was declared. And when the two minutes were up the older boys did not want to follow the sharing rule and Crosby thought it would be a good time to wake up crying and so there were tears and sad faces and rice that needed to prepared. We ended up with two boys sitting on the floor while I was cursing under my breath because I could not remember where I put the Baby Bjorn (seriously, it has been 5 days...where IS that thing?), and, well...we won't discuss the rice.

I have tried to remember what I remember from when I was 4 or younger ~ and the answer is not much. Glimmers of things, more than full memories. Perhaps the boys will remember sitting on the kitchen floor while I muttered to myself. I guess if that is the case, at least now they will know why I was muttering!

Saturday

What a great Saturday...perfect weather to spend the vast majority of the day outside.

Some highlights:

Kelly's French Toast for breakfast. My mom and dad used to laugh when I told them I was going to marry someone who would cook...did I luck out or what?

I cleaned out my cupboard. You probably have one just like it. One that has all sorts of stuff and you really need to clean it but you can never find the time. I cleaned it today. Ahhhh...

We have a huge delivery box in our garage. Today it got dragged out into the yard and turned into a house, boat, and submarine. It was also for a few moments an amusement park ride as cousin Jackson went in the box while Rory and Kyan tipped the box over. And then they did it again. And then the adults put a stop to that one...

Crosby went on his first swing ride. He was not impressed.

After dinner we walked to get ice cream (sherbet for me, and yes, I like sherbet, it doesn't mean I am weird).

Rory fell asleep in my lap and then Kyan fell asleep as we cuddled singing songs.

Cuddling

I am a firm believer in my boys going to bed in their own beds. And I used to be a stickler for keeping them in their beds if they woke up in the middle of the night. Now, as the photo below shows, I don't worry so much about that. Last night our king bed had me, Rory, Ky, and Kelly, with Crosby in his crib next to the bed. Crowded? Yes. Cozy? Yes. Awesome? Yes.

Can I tell you how sweet it is to have two little boys say "cuddle, cuddle" to you and then curl up as close as they can? I know in my pre-cancer world I didn't always embrace these opportunities. In fact, I often tried to get the child in question over on Kelly's side because he could somehow sleep through the heels digging into his back and the nudging as Rory or Ky tried to inch in just a little closer.

Now, those boys make a peep and they are able to come into our bed. Scared? Dark? No idea why, just that you want to? Come on over! I am grabbing onto any chance I can to spend just another second with my kiddos ~ even if we are all sound asleep in a big heap.

See Mommy

The other night, around midnight, Kyan woke up. Kelly went to check on him as I remained fast asleep. In the morning Kelly told me Ky kept saying "See Mommy, See Mommy." To settle him, Kelly brought him in to see me (sleeping) and then put him back to bed.

A few nights later I was watching a movie with Rory and he started to doze off. I turned off the light and started to sing him his nighttime song. Since there was no nightlight, the room was very dark. Rory snuggled in close and whispered that he was scared and he couldn't see me because it was dark. I told him it was okay to be scared, but I was right there and held his hand.

I worry so much about how the little boys will cope if I die. They have the best daddy who will do everything in his power to help them, and four wonderful grandparents they adore and who adore them. But it is not the same as having me there...they will not be able to see me or feel me for comfort. I will not be a tangible part of their daily lives, and I am sad that they will not have their mommy there to hold them, cheer them on, comfort them, and celebrate with them as they grow.

Mornings

I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a morning person. To cope with this, I started each day with a Diet Coke. I was pretty sure the "nectar" the Greek gods consumed on Mount Olympus was, in fact, Diet Coke. But I have now given up Diet Coke. Eight days. And here's the thing that I really don't want to admit, but am going to...I feel better. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh...DON'T. TELL. ANYONE.

Still, I am not a morning person. Starting the day with water or a concoction from the juicer instead of Diet Coke has not made it worse, but it certainly has not made it better. I need cajoling to get up ~ and even then, cheerful is not my natural first emotion.

The same cannot be said of Ky. That child LOVES the morning. He wakes up happy as could be - filled with smiles, dancing, and hugs. He is ready to play (cars, cars!) and rarely interested in watching more than 5 or 10 minutes of a show so I can grab a few more minutes of sleep. I suppose if one has to have an early riser, it is good to have a happy one.

Rory is more like me. He wakes up and shuffles to wherever he is going (usually to me, still in bed, because Kelly is kind enough to get up with Ky), then sits in "his spot" on the couch to drink his milk while he wakes up. He eases into mornings. Not a thing wrong with that, in my opinion.

Now Crosby...he is still a mystery. Some mornings he wakes up cooing and smiley, content to hang out in his bouncer for a while before having his bottle. Other mornings all my neighbors probably know he is awake. He wakes up fast and loud. Really loud until a bottle reaches him. I am curious to know which side will "win," as he gets older. I have a feeling he will be a little bit more like me. Because, until 8 days ago, I would have completely understood being really loud until I had my Diet Coke.

Ky Ky

Aren't we classy? That is my middle child, Kyan (aka Ky Ky) and I this evening when he decided that sleep was for the weak. I think he has known since the moment he was born that he was going to be a middle child and has strove to avoid middle child syndrome. I know he is only 2, but the kid knows how to work his audience.

Today was a rare day where I was home most of the day with Ky and Crosby while Rory was away at school and then with a friend. While Ky still did not have my full attention, it is great to be able to spend more one-on-one time with him than I can on a normal day. Even though Ky asked about three billion times "Where's Rory?" I can also see how happy he is to have mommy mostly to himself. I can just sense the wheels turning: "How many hours can I get her to push around Matchbox cars with me?"

Kyan's other love (Matchbox cars being first) is reading. And somehow, through all this reading, he got kind of clever. He knows all his letters and his single digit numbers. Well, except for the letter O and the number zero. Those get flipped. But zero is a weird number, so I am going to let that slide until he is 3. Then, game on.

But then, just when I am thinking "this kid, he is bright," he proceeds to eat a piece of chalk while doing a funny little shuffle walk and lifting his shirt up over his face so his belly shows and he can't see where he is going.

Ky, in his amazing 2 year old way, has taught me to go "all in," and to try anything and everything I can. I am pretty much behind that, except when it comes to the chalk (and paint, and rocks, and Lego wheels, and...I could go on and on).