Thinking thyroid

This week marks the 1 year anniversary of my surgery to remove my thyroid cancer. All week it's been coming in and out of my mind and memory, but I haven't known quite what to write. As I sat with Mark on the couch on my surgery-anniversary eve, tears came to my eyes as I remembered how hard it was the week or two after the surgery. Sitting there thinking, it was like--for a moment--"here we are at the day where I just have to do it". I have to go tomorrow. I have to leave my kids, my newborn Mary Tessa. I knew then it would be hard, but now I remember how painful it really was. Do you know how much you move your neck? Can you turn your head all the way to your shoulder? Can you lay down? Can you bend over to spit after you brush your teeth--bend forward at all? Have you had oxygen tubes in your nose that make you feel like you can't breathe and panicky? Have you used a breast pump in the night while on morphine? That last one was actually a remarkably peaceful process. Anyway, enough of those complaints. I'm grateful. I'm grateful that I had the cancer that is "the one you'd pick if you had to." I'm grateful that we moved here to Houston where my husband studies at one of the top cancer treatment centers in the world. I'm grateful to have known my amazingly skilled and compassionate surgeon before he moved away 6 months ago. That he made such an impressive clean skinny incision along 6 inches of my neck and got 99.9% of my cancer out. I'm grateful to be alive. I'm grateful that I can take care of my kids. I'm grateful I don't cry in the shower anymore. I'm grateful for the dozen times I sat in waiting rooms at the cancer center and observed and eavesdropped and saw strangers care for each other and not frivolity. I'm grateful for an endocrinologist who believes he can treat people as individuals and not textbook diseases, and is bright enough and tender enough to safely treat me and consider my wishes as a mother. I'm grateful that I got to nurse Tessa and am still breastfeeding her at 13 months.



I'm immensely grateful for Mark for bearing me up through all of this. I'm immensely grateful for my mom and my sister Catherine who came separately and saved and mothered me and mine.
I'm grateful for my faith in Jesus Christ; I never felt abandoned through this, on the other hand I felt cradled. Blessings that I received through the priesthood were critical to my spiritual preparedness to go through this and were intensely personal and healing. Angels counseled over me. I am blessed. Phew, happy anniversary.



My health update is: as of January, according to blood tests and ultrasound, I am still cancer-free and likely to remain so. I return again in July. I feel well. I take my little pill every morning. I try not to sigh when my kids do their "simultaneous arguing/talking/creating laundry" thing. I am blessed.

the first drop

Tess of the D'Summer


I have this year's first drop of sweat running down my back. Oh, Houston.



I didn't think I could sweat til I moved here. I could run around playing soccer for an hour in July in Idaho and hardly get a trickle on my forehead. Alas, I still like it here.










In honor of this moment, some discussion on cold things. I Love popsicles. I am against fake fruity drinks, fruit snacks (I prefer the glee of frozen berries for the kids), but I fully endorse "a popsicle a day keeps the summer away". Yesterday Simon and Allianna were happily riding the teeter-tooter swing one-handed (with a popsicle in the other) and chatting away. Perfect.











I had a much longer discussion on this in my head yesterday, but I'm afraid the sweat has reached mah brain.










I am a gardening maniac lately though. I've got dirt under my fingernails and peas, carrots, basil, summer squash, cucumbers, rosemary, cilantro and rainbow bell peppers under my dirt. =)

Neaster.

What a photo to lead off with--but it cracks me up every time! Happy Neaster!

So I have a few things I've been meaning to tell you about Allianna. And then you can feast your eyes upon completely unrelated Easter photos. She is a pretty articulate little gal (when I can get her to speak loud enough for me to hear or to not speak in a kooky growl), but there are a few words that are completely her own. Here they are, used in context:

"Mom, do you b'nember when we . . ."

"This is bahlicious!"

"That's BUHscusting!!"

"Can I have another b'nuhgah bar?"

*Translations: remember, delicious, disgusting, and granola

As we were driving over the bayou, which was really high from two days of torrential rain, Alli called out "Simon, look at the B.Y.U.!!!!!"

I feel like parents coming into town is reason for buying fresh flowers. =)

And a final photo serving two purposes: 1) There were no suitable photos of Simon from Easter. 2) We think the Easter Bunny is just ridiculous, so we don't work really hard to maintain his reputation around here. Maybe it was the Blue Angel who was responsible for all that chocolate . . .

Quite the dapper dude.

'cause they're awesome

So I was bragging earlier about my newfound skills. Well, earlier this week I was in awe of my parents' skills. Pass through my front room, and my mom's ably sewing away, turning a vintage curtain she brought into a second bedspread. (There was originally a blanket and curtain, circa 1973, but I thought Alli would like to have a blanket to match Simon's. Sure, I'll take a picture for you--they are very awesome.)

Move out into the backyard and my dad's hard at work building us a garden box. Amazing abilities, I tell you! Within an hour or two!

I'm sure those three awesome kids were giving some kind of awesome assistance.

Sure enough. Holding the boards steady for Grandpa. Atta girl, Allianna!

And (guess I am starting all my sentences with "and" and its friends "so" and "well"), I couldn't very well leave out the awesome contribution of my awesome husband the week before. Digging this here garden plot:

Have you ever tried to chop through Texas turfgrass? Wow.

I know you're still in the Easter mood, so I'll be unvealing our Easter related photos soon. I know this because Target is still holding its Easter stock at only 30-50% off, which means we are all still in the mood.

In the meantime,

Thanks Mom and Dad!!!!!!!!!!

and kiddos

and Marko!

I am awesome.

I just changed our burned-out headlight by myself. More details to come later . . . Perhaps someday I can be the lady who teaches how to change your own oil at Enrichment.

Wordless Wednesday: My husband the mad-scientist.

On the suffering of urchins and amphibians

Frog update:

Simon kept the frog inside for 5 days and helped it to various amounts of over-affection, intense jumping practice and dried crickets (you have those on hand, right?). Darwin AKA Bob the 2nd finally got to meet Mark and the next day I was ready to send the little amphibian on his way. It was a combination of him getting accidentally lost behind my computer when I was already irritated by something and the constant worry that we were somehow torturing him. Simon returned him to his natal stump and came back in with big crocodile tears. Frog tears. So I held him on my lap and thought about how life is hard. Poor bud. That was 4 days ago. But get this! This is a merciful frog! A frog worthy of the name Jean Valjean! Twice Simon has come in from the backyard and reported: "I just saw my frog. He came up out of the stump and I talked to him and held him for a while." Or, "I went to my frog's hole in the stump and he wasn't there, so I poured water on it and he came out!" Isn't that unbelievable!? A little amphibian the size of your thumbnail and he hasn't _________ (run away, died, been eaten, learned not to show up when he hears Simon coming). Now, a note on Simon's behalf--he is a very conscientious frogkeeper--there isn't a bit of malice in his keeping of the frog. He just adores it and always wants to be holding it or following it as it jumps around the garage (while I think "How is that frog JUMPING like that after four days of captivity and no food?!), letting it watch t.v. or figuring out how to get the right thing to feed it (flies? another cricket!? a fruit fly? "wait, the wing of a mosquito I have in my bed!"). Some evidence of his tenderness: On the first two days that Bob Darwin the 2nd was returned to the wild he was "hunting for food" AWOL and so Simon caught rollypollys in his absence and loved them and let them climb over his arms for hours and talked endlessly about them. He's 2 for 2 loosing them on the couch though, so they are EXPRESSLY forbidden to come in any more. (Not like I didn't tell him not to bring them in in the first place.)

Anyway, did you follow my reference to Jean Valjean? I have been reading Les Miserables for 4 months and last night Mark and I got to go to the spectacular show. Will you please read that book???!!!!! Thank you. It was fabulous. Thanks to Heather and Derek (THANKS!!!!!!!!!!) we were able to go enjoy 5 hours of being dressed-up, kid-less, out-in-the-evening seeing fine arts, city lights, and the bringing to life of some of the best literary philosophy on humanity ever realized. If you have only ever heard the music (which is splendid), will you please now go read the book? Thanks.

I love Mark. wooo wooooo!

Ten years ago at this time we were at BYU and I asked Mark to the Preference dance (possibly the most adrenaline-filled three minutes of my life were those where I got up the guts to ask him. by writing it on a potato chip and handing it to him of course.) Anyway, that's another story, but the night of the dance was magical. We went to SLC to a dance at a gallery and afterwards held hands for the first time walking the (too) few blocks to the car. So now, being gussied up for an evening in a big city with all the lights and skyscrapers (including a reallyreally handsome one named Mark) always brings back that memory for me.

Man, I could a write pages on those two nights. But for now, adieu!