Peace about pieces

This post is not about my children...but it is about a child. A child whose mother has breast cancer. That child is me.
We've only known about this for a few weeks. I have a wonderful group of friends who check on me often, asking if I'm doing okay with it all. And I am. Actually, it's been kind of easy. Because Mom has made it easy. She's positive, practical, and seems to be taking it all in stride. I guess that's what good moms do...make hard things easier. She has a strong faith and it shows in everything she does. And because she's strong, I can be too.
The day before Thanksgiving, they took her left breast. My dad, my sisters and I joined a whole group of other people who loved her in the hospital. We teased her that she had a "network" like the cell phone commercial because there was a whole entourage following her as they wheeled her down the hall to the surgical unit. We waited together, talking, laughing, and secretly praying in our hearts that it was going to be as okay as we hoped it would. Finally, the doctor came out. She did so well he let her go home the same day...Happy Thanksgiving!
I was able to stay with my mom for a few days. I did the things I could to help her...laundry, dishes, fixing her hair and standing in the bathroom with her as she examined her new scar. She didn't cry or complain. She said how nicely done it was.
This is not the first time she's had to deal with an imperfect body. She has no hearing in one ear and wears a hearing aid in the other, wears glasses, and lives with one side of her face being immovable due to nerve damage. She jokes about falling apart piece by piece. The truth is...my mom is more than the sum of her parts. Her most important part - her soul- can never be surgically removed. She's strong, beautiful, and full of faith...loved by everyone who knows her. Especially this child...just another piece of her.

Photo Shoot

Every now and then, my long-suffering family allows me to try to take a family picture of us all. It's a simple idea, really. Set up the camera on the tripod, pose the family, push the timer button, and run like...well, you know. Somehow, it's never that simple in reality.

Today after church (when we all look kind of nice) I got Yancy to help me tack up sheets and direct lights to a certain spot. Then the fun began. I never really know exactly what I want, so I end up giving vague directions like, "Okay...do something funny." Or I pose each person in a way that looks cool, but requires an awkard holding of the arm, legs, and head. When they grimace in pain because their elbow is boring into the tile floor I sweetly say, "Remember, look natural...no, give me a better smile than that!" To which my husband replies, "Oh...natural...yeah, because I always sit indian style on the floor with my head tilted to the side." And the kids end up laughing so hard they ruin lots of shots. Then there's me...dashing into the hole I've asked them to leave for me, (so that it looks like we're just a happy family, casually sitting together)...all the time trying not to trip over the tripod leg, making sure my bra strap isn't showing, and striving to look relaxed instead of out of breath...all before the little light flashes ten times and then takes the picture - Ready or Not! I know there are people who do this for a living, and could give me great looking shots with a lot less effort, but where would be the fun in that?

High fashion in lowly places

Hillary has her own sense of style. She's eclectic. She's funky. She's creative. She does things like...wear her dad's ties to school, put a short dress over jeans, pair converse tennis shoes with something unexpected...and jewelry is no-holds-barred. So I'm flattered that she is constantly trolling my closet for things to wear. My style is more...conservative. Some may even say...boring. So I'm always surprised when she manages to make a complete outfit out of pieces of my stuff that I would never think to link. This happened just last night when she wore a skirt of mine with a red sweater and my brown heels to church. Of course, this putting together of outfits comes with many try-ons and discards, til my room looks like a teenagers with clothes draped over lamp shades and every other available surface. Finally she said, "Now I just need some jewelry." To which I said, "Good luck." She dug around for a few minutes and pulled out a long string of reddish beads that I bought for one holiday outfit and have never really worn with anything else. Voila! Magic. It was a perfect, sophisticated, but somehow youthful look.
The benefits of having a daughter my size is that I can root in her closet occasionally. Today was Royal Reader day at my school, and I was at a loss as to what to wear. It's too cold for a dress, but nothing else I have is very "royal" looking. In Hillary's closet I found a long, velvet, ruffled skirt and a sparkly blue shirt. Which I paired with UnderArmor pants and a pair of Parker's black ankle socks. For me, keeping warm trumps looking regal every time! But what a blessing...who else but an athlete with an artistic bent would have UnderArmor pants AND silver sequined shoes in her closet. I'm a lucky mom!

Double Date

Now that Hillary is 16, she's officially allowed to date. The weekend after her birthday, her boyfriend set up a group date at the nearby skating rink with all of their friends and even a Disney Princess birthday cake. He seems like a great kid, and a hard worker. He has a job at Wal-Mart and manages to work quite a few hours while juggling school and band. Last night was one of the few Friday evenings he didn't have to work, so Hillary wanted to take advantage of it. She invited one of her best friends and her boyfriend to come over and hang out with her and Larry at our house. She's never been one to have friends over often. I think she prefers going to other people's house where the responsibility of keeping everyone happy is on the host, and she can just enjoy herself. So when Larry first arrived, she seemed a little nervous. Wanting to help, but be discreet about it, I casually challenged my husband to a dart game, then offhandedly threw in, "Oh...do you guys want to play?" They didn't want to play, but they did want to watch. So we all went downstairs and Yancy and I had a rousing game of darts with wild shots and lots of verbal banter (He would say "trash talk"). The kids had a great time laughing at us...especially my technique of lifting my leg out behind me as I threw. I have to admit, it was a lot of fun for me too. I haven't flirted with my husband like that in a while. He laughed when I kept inching closer to the board (because my arms are shorter...and women's golf has closer tees, don't they?). And in the end, I let him win...or he just won because he's better than me.
Then it was 9:00 and Hillary's friends showed up. The ice was officially broken and it was time for the old people to retire to our Friday night TV show and let the young'uns have the downstairs family room. It was kind of nice to have our show punctuated by teenaged laughter from the other room. We just looked at each other...he took my hand...and we smiled.

Heroes

Parker is going deer hunting this weekend, and he is SO excited. We bought new insulated boots, and pocket handwarmers, to go with his camo pants and jacket. We were talking about his trip last night and he said, "I can't wait til this weekend." I assumed he was looking forward to the actual hunt, but then he went on..."I get to see one of my...heroes." He was talking about my brother.
My husband is a big sports guy (basketball, football, etc). He likes hunting in theory, but never seems to get around to actually going. So my dad is coming up on Friday to get Parker and they will continue on to my brother's house where not only will they go on a manly deer hunt, but the next morning they plan to duck hunt, too. Austin is as into hunting as my husband is into basketball.
Parker has always looked up to my brother. In his mid-twenties, Austin is halfway between Parker and myself. So he's always been prone to "cool" stuff that little boys adore and moms fear. Parker's first weapon was a Christmas gift from his uncle. I almost had a heart attack, but neither of them seemed to think a bow and arrow was an unusual gift for a small boy.
It's all about perspective. When I look at Austin, I see my little brother...pesky, adventurous, determined. When my son looks at him, he sees a man...strong, smart, rugged, and someone to be looked up to. I'm glad. I love that Parker has so many different men in his life that he can look up to. He idolizes his dad...his sports hero. He looks up to his grandpas...both deeply spiritual, smart, and affectionate men. He brags about his other uncle, who is serving our country in the Navy. These men are part of who Parker is, and who I want him to become. Each of them shows Parker a different, but good part of being a man. They take an interest in him...call him..email him...and spend time with him. And he learns courage, leadership, strength, tenderness, and determination. So, yeah...these men are Parker's heroes...and mine too.

Girls Just Wanna....TALK!

When I asked Hillary how she wanted to celebrate her birthday, she said that all she wanted was to spend a day shopping with her best friend who lives 2 hours away. So, this weekend, we met Lizzie and her parents halfway, and headed into the city for a big day of shopping. Even before the girls' butts hit the back seat, they were talking non-stop. One would tell a story in long, run-on sentences, while the other punctuated her friend's commentary with giggles. "and I was wearing a wife-beater, but it was a really cute one, and it was white, with lace and stuff at the top, and I had on a cami underneath it..."
My husband drove in silence. At 6' 1 and 250 pounds (in his refelctive sunglasses) he looked like a hired driver/bodyguard. It's not unusual for him to go for miles without saying anything, and I assumed he was thinking up basketball plays or something. Finally, I asked "What are you thinking about?" He looked at me with a straight face and said, "That I've never wanted to get to a mall so fast."
I'm still laughing!

Sick Day

We stayed home today, Parker and I. This sick day was a long time coming. He started running fever several days ago, but seemed fine as long as he was medicated. So, I put it off, hoping it would go away on it's own. I made excuses...he didn't need to miss school, I couldn't miss work, he had basketball practice (and the coach was making cuts), then it was Halloween. Of course it didn't go away...it got worse. He started having a wracking cough and I decided the world was going to have to find a way to spin without me...my son needed attention. I took him to the doctor, who promptly diagnosed him with bronchitis and gave us a prescription for a Z-pack, Mucinex, and a day at home.

How lovely it was to spend this quiet Friday at home with my boy. He stayed in his pajamas all day and I cleaned house and got some laundry done. He watched TV for a while, then pulled out his Legos and created all kinds of wheeled things. He described them to me in great detail, telling me what function each component served, and why he made this one this way and that one, that. This is the magic of being 12. Parker can watch a grown up movie with us, and "get" jokes. He can explore our back woods by himself and make his own macaroni and cheese. He wears a man's shoe size, and looks me eye to eye. But he can still enjoy building with Legos...and sometimes crawls in our bed at night...and gives me hugs for no reason. I'm glad I had this day with him. I know it won't last forever, so I'll enjoy it for today.