Your vocabulary is just exploding. It’s not just one or two new words a day, it’s several. Big words, like squirrel and butterfly, which is nearly unintelligible, but I know what you’re saying. You’re picking up on concepts, too. The other day when we saw the peacock at the zoo, you pointed at it and said “blue.” You just told me “thank you” when I gave you some apple slices. Make a note, I know you know how to say thank you. It’s de regueur for you now.
This month has been busy. Last weekend we had a memorial service for my grandmother, your Great-Grandma McKinley. We called her Grandma Candy because your cousins, Max and Ilona, couldn’t pronounce Grandma McKinley when they were little. The name stuck.
The picture above shows Grandma Candy holding you a few days after you were born. She hand knit the green blanket on her lap just for you. She was going blind and her hands were extremely arthritic. That means completing this blanket was a big challenge, but she didn’t let her fading eyesight or the pain in her hands stop her from making a blanket for you. Because she couldn’t see well, sometimes a mistake would slip through, and then great swathes of the blanket would have to be ripped out and re-knit to get it right, or “just so.” Grandma Candy would say “just so” when describing something that had been carefully and thoughtfully arranged. Someday when you are looking at that blanket, you will notice that a few holes and dropped stitches remain. I hope that someday you will understand how precious that blanket is, and that those dropped stitches are precious too. She loved you very much.
Along with the memorial service, we had a big family reunion. This was the first time for you to meet most of our extended family: your aunts and uncles and your cousins and second cousins and even third cousins. There are more degrees of separation in there, but I’m completely baffled by calculating whether someone is a second cousin once removed. I finally just settled on calling everyone cousin and left it at that.
You got along well with your cousins and you were charming with everyone. So many people stopped to comment on how sweet you were. Daddy and I were so proud of you.
Right after the family reunion, it was time for trick or treating. You were a zebra this year, fitting after all the time we spent at the zoo. You were a little scared of the costume at first, but once we got it on you, you roared. That’s your thing lately, you like to roar. So I should rephrase. You were a ferocious zebra this year.
I am baby, hear me roar
You still love to color and draw. It is your favorite way to pass the time. You lie down on the floor with your feet kicked up, and color for hours on end. I bring crayons and paper with us everywhere we go.
You sit on your green chair with the white polka dots, with your little bare feet sticking out and your toes wiggling while you fill up your journal with pictures like this:
I love seeing you so happy. There’s something about wiggling toes that goes hand in hand with happiness, too. You can’t stay in a bad mood and wiggle your toes at the same time. Try it. I dare you.
A marriage takes a lot of work; so does keeping a day job (or going to school), maintaining a home, and raising children. When you have cancer, there are times when the fight for your life takes more work than all of the above combined.
Since my diagnosis, I have been reaching out to women with cancer, both in the real world and online. One of the things that has surprised me the most is the number of relationships that have dissolved post diagnosis. It’s not one or two, it’s a lot.
Cancer and Marriage
Cancer adds a lot of stress to a marriage.
Every story is different. In some cases it was the person with cancer who left; in others, it was the co-survivor (what we call the spouse or partner of the person with cancer). They are all wildly different stories, and come from people leading different lives: from all different parts of the world, rich, poor, educated, uneducated, religious, non-religious. It’s tempting to be judgmental, but only the people in that relationship truly know their story. Let’s not pass judgment.
I’ve only been married for 6 years. I’ve only been married once. I’m not a marriage counselor. I don’t profess to have any special knowledge that would help others prevent or reverse marriage trouble, but I’ve witnessed a few things, experienced a few things, and had a few thoughts.
National statistics tell us that roughly half of all marriages in this country end in divorce. Those statistics are silent on the issue of cancer. Every relationship has its issues, and cancer doesn’t make those issues go away. In fact, there are times when cancer amplifies them. Cancer has a way of amplifying everything.
The one thing that has helped me maintain my sanity and perspective throughout this cancer ordeal is membership in a support group. I belong to the Young Survival Coalition which provides support for young women with breast cancer.
Our discussions in group are confidential, but I can tell you that at times they deal with issues in our relationships. A phrase came out at one of the meetings, and we’ve all been loving it and using it since: “You don’t go to the hardware store to get bread.” That one little phrase has been of immense help to me.
I love my husband. He is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. But I don’t expect him to be my everything. I have other people in my life: my daughter, my family, my friends, my support group. They all fill different roles, and provide support in different ways. And when I don’t expect my husband to fill the role of one of my girl friends, we get along much better. One of my friends in the support group told me: “We’ll be your bakery.”
When I unload in the group about cancer (where it is expected and appropriate) instead of unloading on my husband, we get along much better. That’s not to say I don’t tell my husband everything. He pretty much hears it all, but it’s not all at once. It’s not a deluge of problems and issues that I dump in his lap the moment he walks in the door. It’s not a bitch and whine session. It’s not constant complaining. I’ve already gotten that out of my system – dumped on the support group that completely understands what I’m going through. I already got my bread, so when I tell my husband what’s going through my head, or through my body, I can say things without that whiny tone in my voice or unrealistic expectations.
Does this have anything at all to do with the relationships that broke up? Maybe. Maybe not. I have no idea. Every relationship is different. Every person is different. This is just what helped me. Having a support group helps me be a better partner in our relationship. Believe it or not, I think practicing jiu-jitsu helps my husband be a better partner in our relationship. I’m sure other people have completely different activities that help them approach their relationship with more patience, compassion, and understanding.
I wish love, patience, compassion, and understanding could make a marriage bulletproof.
A cancer diagnosis teaches you not to take things for granted: your life, your health, your breasts, your hair. I’m adding relationships to that list.
For a more encouraging look at marriage and cancer, read my post The Promise.
You toddled your way right out of babyhood – I don’t have a baby any more. I really miss the baby you used to be, but we are having so much fun with the little girl that you have become. You are hilarious, and intelligent, and very sweet.
Right now you are trying to figure out counting. You still repeat “two” over and over as you work your way through a pile of items, or run through your fingers. But you’ve figured out that something is going on, that there is a method and a goal in place when we count, whether it’s our fingers, or crackers, or crayons. You are so close to “getting it.” I hope I’m there, I hope I get to see it when it finally clicks for you. I love that moment when you figure something out. The air becomes electric, and you positively glow.
You’ve been frustrated with your fingers lately. As you try to mimic our counting on fingers motions, you have figured out that your ring finger does not behave as well as the other fingers. You’ll pull that ring finger up again and again and try to make it stay in place, but it just keeps folding back down if your other fingers aren’t up as well. You purse your lips and furrow your brow and try it again, but that ring finger just keeps curling back down. I was a lot older than you when I figured out that my ring finger behaved differently from my other fingers.
You actually have great small motor control. You love to color. You can color for hours. I can take you out and know that as long as you’re not hungry or tired, I can keep you well entertained with a piece of paper and a handful of crayons. And you are not just scribbling, you are very specific about where you place color on the paper, and you draw circles most of the time. You also frequently say “eye” and “nose” while you are coloring so I wonder if you are trying to draw faces. Daddy draws faces for you a lot when you color together.
I knew it was time to start getting coloring books for you when you started coloring in the polka dots on your chair. I’m not sure I want to be the mom who blogs about how her daughter stays in the lines when she colors on the furniture, but here I am. To be honest, I don’t care a bit about staying in the lines. Lines are suggestions, not rules. Don’t let lines limit you. Still, I think it’s pretty cool that you mimicked the forms on the fabric when you were coloring – but about coloring on the furniture, not cool. The walls and books are off limits, too.
Also not cool: yelping “HELP!” when I’m trying to strap you back into the stroller out in public. Ok, a little bit funny, just a little bit, but mostly not cool.
You’ve recently developed a little fear of heights. This is probably a good thing and age appropriate, but it does damper your fun on the playground equipment. You used to go up the stairs and down the slide with reckless abandon, and now you’ve noticed that you can see the ground through the little holes in the platform and it’s freaking you out. You’ll make it to the top, and just stop and sit there, refusing to budge. I’m sure you’ll get over this on your own time, until then, we’ll keep taking you to the playground and let you go at your own pace. You still love to go to the playground. Sometimes new knowledge or awareness can be scary, it alerts us to our limitations. This new fear just shows us that you’re smart. Eventually you incorporate that knowledge into your understanding of how the world works, and it gets a little less scary. You’ll be scampering across the playground equipment again in no time.
Your favorite place to visit is the kid’s section at the bookstore. We go nearly every day and it just doesn’t get old for you. I love the fact that we live within walking distance, it makes our daily appearances much easier. And in the past couple weeks, you’ve been able to walk the entire distance yourself.
Everyday you surprise us with another new word. We are still learning to hear what you are saying, you enunciate like a toddler, and that makes things interesting at times. The other day you were identifying body parts and said “eye” and “nose” and then when you got to my mouth you said “cake,” or at least that’s what I though you said. That was pretty funny. But the next day, you did it again, and this time I heard a little better. You didn’t say “cake” when you got to my mouth, you said “kiss.” That just melted my heart.
This is where I do the very important work of blogging about being a mom. I know. You want to be like me when you grow up, don’t you?
I even have an intern.
Let me tell you, for an unpaid intern she’s quite expensive and high maintenance. She expects a meal, several meals, every day. I’d say something about her expecting me to wipe her butt, but that would be crude.
This is the kind of meal I prepare for my crew every day.
Ok, that’s not true. That’s the kind of food I intend to cook every day.
This is more like the kind of food I prepare for our meals.
Well, no, that’s not true either. That is the kind of food I would like to eat, and it implies I actually cook. In reality, I serve freezer lasagna, macaroni and cheese, and anything else that requires less than 5 minutes of time and effort on my part.
So much for being a food blogger.
These are my blogging pants.
What? You don’t match your intern to your pants?
Yes, she was taking yet another break. But she does contribute a lot to our team.
I’ve had the hardest time getting a good picture of you lately. You’re not one to sit still and wait for the shot. You’ve got things to do, places to go, bookshelves to climb. Each night when I download the photos from my memory card, I sort through picture after picture after picture of the back of your head. It seems I’m just following you around.
And that’s alright.
I love your sense of adventure. I love your curiosity. I love your explorer’s spirit. Well, except when I need a nap. I don’t know what we would do without a play pen. I’m afraid you’d be off trekking in Nepal by now if we hadn’t come up with some way to fence you in. Not that there’s anything wrong with trekking in Nepal. In fact if that’s something you want to do someday, far, far into the future, I hope you do. Just not yet. I’m addicted to your hugs and kisses, and I sleep so much better when I can hear your little baby snores in the next room.
I worry that you’ve been spending too much time trapped in our living room watching TV. On the other hand, you’ve learned things from the TV that I didn’t think to teach you. You learned how to jump! Seriously. Ok, well, your toes aren’t quite leaving the ground yet, but you get your shoulders and heels moving in an upward motion while you chirp “Jump!” It’s the cutest thing. I was wondering where you got that from because I don’t really use the word jump around you, and I’m really not much of a jumper. It’s not like I’ve been modeling this behavior. But then I watched an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba with you, and watched you jump along through the “Jumpy Jump Jump Jump Jump Jump” song. I wonder what other important lessons I’m forgetting to teach you.
As much as you love Yo Gabba Gabba, your favorite TV show is Ni Hao, Kai-Lan. You even recognize the lead in to the show where it is announced. You get up and squeal and dance, waving your little arms, through the opening and even through much of the show. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as happy as you are while you are dancing to that theme song. My favorite time of day is when Ni Hao, Kai-Lan comes on because I love seeing you so completely enraptured. I’ve heard many kids have specific songs or shows that really get them dancing. Your Uncle Timmy used to go ape over the song “It’s so easy to fall in love” by Linda Rondstadt. Apparently when I was little my song was the theme song to the Davy Crockett Show.
Your vocabulary is just exploding these days. I don’t think I could even catalog all the words I’ve heard from you. Today I handed you a banana, and you said “banana.” Three syllables! That is so cool. You can name off body parts like nose, toes, ear, eye (although it’s quite alright if you refrain from poking my eye out while identifying the eyes on my face). Your favorite words at the moment are “ball” and the previously mentioned “jump.” You are getting so much more effective in communicating with us. I’ve been a complete failure at teaching you to sign, with the exception of the sign for “eat.” This is not your fault at all. You see, teaching you the sign requires that I actually remember what the sign is myself. It’s not happening. In fact you may actually be correctly signing entire dissertations at me, but I’m just not getting it. On the other hand, we have “eat” nailed. And that has saved us so much stress. At the very least, I know when you’re hungry. I completely understand why supermoms teach their kids to sign.
It’s amazing to watch your brain develop. You are figuring things out so quickly these days. Last month Mary Jane made a game for you that was simply a little canister with a slot in the lid combined with a stack of poker chips. You love that game. You’ll pop those poker chips in through the slot, one by one, then bring it back to me so I can empty it and you start all over again. Recently, you’ve started sorting the chips into piles of blue, red, and white, and then pushing them through the slot in groups by color. You are learning your shapes and anymore when I give you a cracker, it’s not so much a cracker as it is a circle or a square. You have also started counting, or at least I think that’s what you are trying to do. You’ll move a stack of items, like the poker chips, from one pile to the other, saying, “two” with each item. Every number is two, but I think you’re starting to get the idea. “Two, two, two, two…” You’re too cute.
You’ve gotten a lot more affectionate in the past couple months, and let me tell you, that does your Mama’s heart a lot of good. You’re still a go, go, go kind of girl, but now you take a break every so often and come over and give me a hug and a kiss. Unbidden. I love that. Surprise kisses are awesome! I think sometimes you know when I’m having a bad day and need extra hugs, too. You’re an amazingly perceptive little girl. I hope I don’t burden you too much with my illness, especially as time goes on, because taking care of Mommy is not your responsibility. But I do love your little hugs and kisses.
This last little piece I want to put in here because I think there’s a chance you might argue with me about it in the future. Your favorite food right now is broccoli. Yes, that’s right. Broccoli. If I’m eating broccoli, you will try to take it away from me so you can eat it yourself. I can eat chocolate all day and it’s safe, but my broccoli you will steal. That’s alright. You can eat broccoli all day long if you like. It’s that good for you.
You are growing up so much right now. I miss the little baby you used to be, but I am so proud of the little girl that you are becoming.
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