Back to life, back to reality

Back to the here and now, yeah (gah, I love this song):

I realize that I dropped the C-bomb and then disappeared for a month, but all is well here. My physical recovery from what we'll now call The Recent Unpleasantness has gone incredibly well. At my doctor's recommendation, I've resumed my running/yoga fitness regimen, and I've started sharing sessions with a trainer with a friend a couple of days a week. Due to the small size of my tumor and its biology, my doctor does not recommend chemotherapy or radiation for me. I started on a 5 year course of a medication, which, like any medication, has potential side effects; the most likely side effect of this particular medication is irritability, but I haven't noticed anything yet (but you should probably ask David to be sure).

When I was first diagnosed, I vowed that I would never let stupid, inconsequential things bother me again, but I'm already failing on that front. I still get infuriated when people plow through a four way stop sign when it's clearly not their turn, and it still makes me all kinds of crazy that Publix only has two lanes open (one of them 10 items or fewer) during late afternoon prime time, while the much smaller Western has seven open lanes, but no shallots. Basically, if you need groceries in this town you're screwed. But while this experience has not quite allowed me to transcend life's little nuisances, I find that I feel mostly joyful these days. Pure, unbridled joy that comes out of nowhere and overwhelms me at the oddest moments.

At one point, Amanda asked me what I did with my days while I was recovering. Before I was able to drive, I did the usual things (reading, napping, watching British period dramas, going for walks, puttering, thinking up home improvement projects and then ambushing David with my ideas when he first gets home from work). It was harder to remember what exactly I did after the initial recovery period, so I went through my iPhone photos to trigger my memory.

I briefly contemplated becoming a vegetarian (but then I remembered bacon) and made plans with a friend to get together and make veggie burgers; we texted potential recipes back and forth:

I kept our resident artist supplied with materials. Some artists work in oils, some in acrylics, some in clay. Elizabeth works in scotch tape:

I received the Restoration Hardware catalog -- sorry, source book -- and carried it from the mailbox to the house. That qualified as my physical therapy for the day. In the past, I would get the RH catalog and think "I cannot even believe the magnitude of the dreary pretension on display here!" but then I'd move on to other idle thoughts. But this year, I had nothing if not loads of free time on my hands, so I weighed the catalog:

And compared it to the yellow pages:

As expected, it outweighs the Yellow Pages by a solid 2.5 pounds.

We had a mini-session scheduled with our favorite photographer, so I scrambled to put together coordinating outfits for the kids.

In the end, the kids looked adorable, if slightly disheveled, but then that is our family's signature look.

I planted mums.

We listen to a lot of top 40 radio in the car; my kids are just at that age. It's kind of funny to hear them in the back debating which station is better, "The Q" or "The Vibe," and then when David just can't stand it anymore, he'll interject "THEY ARE EXACTLY THE SAME!!!!" Anyway, Flo Rida is a particular family favorite, so I was excited when I realized that one of his new songs, I Cry, samples that long-forgotten 80s adult contemporary classic, Piano in the Dark (which is a fantastic song to croon when you are alone -- try it sometime!)

Flo:

Brenda Russell:

We got the Halloween decorations down from the attic. I saw this size 2-4 toddler Tigger costume (never worn by any of my children for Halloween, but tried on by at least one of my children every year when we get down the Halloween decorations) and then David and I had this conversation:

C: I'm going to donate this Tigger costume. It takes up half of one of these Halloween bins, and clearly at this point nobody here is ever going to be Tigger.
D: One of our grandchildren may want to be Tigger someday.
C: This is how people become hoarders.

Jacob ran in the Boosterthon, his school's big fundraiser:

Caroline and the rest of the kindergarteners went to the Pumpkin Patch.

Life is good! Really, really good.