Monday, October 29, 2007

Family portrait

Jay and I have always been really into pumpkin carving at Halloween. Even years before we had WCK -- even when we lived in little apartments that lacked proper front-porch pumpkin-display areas -- we would always have a pumpkin-carving night just before Halloween. Usually we'd pop in our tape of the Disney version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and just carve away. We're not really artistic people, so we'd always use those books of pumpkin patterns. In the old days, we'd go for the fancy ones: witches, skeletons, headless horsemen.

We still carve every year, but now we don't really have the time or energy to make the elaborate designs that we used to. We mostly stick to very simple, fast faces. We let WCK take part this year, and I figured she would grab the pumpkin guts and smear them everywhere. She didn't want anything to do with the guts, but she was quite interested in watching the process.

Here's a photo of the results. It looks a lot like our family. The one on the far left is me when WCK won't go to bed:

Saturday, October 27, 2007

In theory

Last weekend, Jay and I got really brave (some might say really stupid) and tried moving WCK from her crib to a big-girl bed. It was technically the same bed; we have a crib that converts to a toddler bed when you detach the front railing thingie. Just undo a few bolts, and the kid is free.

The next four hours went like this:

PARENT: WCK, get back in the bed and go to sleep.
WCK: Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
PARENT: Get back in the bed.
WCK: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

We also made the disturbing discovery that WCK knows how to work a doorknob and can get from her room to the bottom of the stairs in approximately .0001 of a second.

By the end of the night, WCK was back in the crib. Jay had the really good idea to turn the crib around so the open end is against the wall. The back end (which is now the front end) is much too high for her to climb over and escape. I'm planning on keeping her there until she is 21. She can take a Pack 'N Play to college.

Anyway. I'd been expecting that it would go badly, so before bedtime started I was trying to look at the bright side of the big-girl bed.

"In theory," I said, "when she drops her pacifier out of the bed, she won't have to call for us. She can get it herself."

WCK flashed a wicked, wicked grin.

"In theory," she said.

Friday, October 26, 2007

The Big 300!

This is my 300th post on this blog. I can't believe I've come up with 300 different things to write about. It's probably just 300 variations of the topics, "Cancer is dumb," "My kid is cute," and "I love American Idol." Oh, and photos of celebrities and cupcakes.

Anyway, I guess it's fitting that I'm celebrating a blog milestone, because it was almost exactly two years ago right now that I was having that innocent blood test that "accidentally" found the Evil Protein in my blood. I just wanted to have my cholesterol and whatever checked; I didn't know incurable cancer was floating around in there. I got the results back on Halloween 2005, when a nurse called and said she was sending me to an oncologist immediately, but wouldn't tell me why. That wasn't a fun time.

But since then ... nothing really bad has happened to me. It has not been a bad two years. It's actually been a pretty happy two years:

I hope the next 300 posts/two years are just as good. Actually, I'm sure they will be better, because the cancer's butt is going to get completely kicked. Woooooo!

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Here Lies Mr. Peanut

Here are photos of the cupcakes I made for the MOMS Club Halloween party on Friday. I'm going to make another batch for another party we're going to tomorrow, too:

Here's a whole graveyard:

They were very easy to make. Orange frosting, Nutter Butter grave stones decorated with black frosting, Oreo crumb "dirt", and a candy pumpkin. I wanted to write something more interesting than "RIP" on each one, but there's only so much one can say on a Nutter Butter. Also, the Nutter Butters seemed to absorb the moisture from the cupcakes, and they got a little mushy. If you prefer crisp Nutter Butters, don't stick them into the cupcake until the last minute.

WCK is going to be a witch for Halloween. As you can imagine, she is a very cute witch. If she wanted your Ruby Slippers, you would hand them over immediately, so charmed would you be by the cuteness. I taught her to respond to the question, "What does a witch say?" (Her answer: "Get you, pretty, and little dog, too!"), but, of course, she won't say it for anybody except me. I'm also trying to teach her to cackle in a menacing way, but she can't quite master the menacing part. Maybe next year.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

I love my foam finger

Jay and I went to a Kansas City Chiefs game on Sunday. I'd never been to a pro football game before, and I know nothing about football. My only football knowledge comes from the movie Rudy and various Peanuts cartoons. Keep trying, even if the Evil Coach is mean to you. Never kick a ball if Lucy is holding it. That's all I know.

Anyway. I told Jay I would go to the game with him as long as I could buy one of those enormous foam fingers that you wear over your hand. I've never had an enormous foam finger, and I've always secretly wanted one. After searching the various souvenir stands at the stadium, we finally tracked one down. It wasn't quite as enormous and hilarious as I'd expected, and then I realized I was the only person over the age of 10 who was in possession of an enormous foam finger. When your hand is about half the size of mine, one of those fingers probably seems extra enormous and extra, extra, EXTRA hilarious. It worked out, though, and the Chiefs won, probably because they saw me waving my foam finger and felt inspired. WCK just loves the finger. Last night before her bath, she was running around naked, wearing nothing but the finger.

Also, while we were tailgating in the parking lot, two women came by selling red and gold beads as a fundraiser for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The LLS covers all blood cancers, so it should really be called the Leukemia, Lymphoma, and Myeloma Society, but I guess that's a lot of words to fit on the sign. Anyway, I bought a set of beads from them, and I hope a lot of other people did too. Now I have my football beads and my finger, so I'm all set to go back to a Chiefs game next year. I'll have to borrow my sister's copy of Rudy so I can refresh my knowledge right before I go.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

I'm dangerous

My stay-at-home-moms' group has a Moms' Night Out once a month. Last night, a bunch of us got together at a martial arts studio for a self-defense class. We learned a few moves, and I'm now confident that if an armless, legless, creepy-looking rubber dummy ever attacks me in a parking lot, I can TOTALLY kick its butt. Well, I guess it doesn't technically have a butt. I can kick its support post that serves as a butt.

When I got home, I told Jay all of the important things we learned about eyeball gouging and crotch-kicking (Eyeballs squish as easily as grapes; when you kick a guy, imagine that you're going to kick all the way up to his chin, and you're just going through the crotch to get there) and now he's a little scared of me, I think. I promise to use this new-found crotch-kicking knowledge for good, not evil.

I'd like to kick my M-spike in the crotch, though: The Cancer Center called yesterday, and Spike is still hanging in there at 2.0! This is where it has been since August. I know that Dr. H assured me that plateaus are totally normal, and that the M-spike will most likely continue to go down again someday, but I still don't like it. I didn't spend my weekends all dexed out so that my M-spike can lounge around and laugh at me. Stupid spike.

Still, I am enjoying temporarily being off the drugs. Last weekend was my first weekend in over five months without dex. It was GLORIOUS. All day Saturday, I kept waiting for it to kick in ... and then I'd remember that I didn't take any. I felt like a normal person. Nice.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Just call me Ross, because ...


That's right. I'm off all of my medications right now. Yesterday, I went to strap on my medical alert bracelet like I do every morning, and then I realized I didn't need it! Woo! I'd worried that I'd have to do one more week of Dex because the harvest got pushed back, but Dr. GPO told me not to. It felt like the greatest news I'd ever heard in my whole entire life, because I honestly don't think I could have handled the Dex for one more week. Really, the thought of taking one more dose made me want to start crying. I don't go back to the Kansas City Cancer Center until Dec. 10, and that's when they'll start the process to get me back on drugs. Everyone assures me that I'll be able to get back on them immediately with no problem, but I don't believe them. We'll see. It'll be a good break.

Last weekend, we traveled to South Dakota for Jay's sister's wedding. WCK looked beautiful in her princess dress, and she was the hit of the reception. We were all shocked to discover that she loves loud dance music. She was a maniac, maniac on the floor, and kept it up until nearly 10 p.m. She even jumped into the conga line. We were all very impressed.