It's not my fault

Confession time... so here's the REAL reason I have not been blogging lately (No, I'm NOT pregnant!  Small surgery a year and a half ago, rememeber?!  But isn't it funny how that is everyone's first guess for why you're not doing what you normally do?).  I got an i phone.  Steve made me, it's not my fault.  We had archaic flip phones until about 2 months ago.  It all started on our way home from Spring Break.  We missed an exit and ended up in a whole different state.  We found ourselves with no GPS.  No smart phone.  Not even a map or an atlas.  We marched into the phone store the next week and made the jump into 2012.  I kicked and screamed because I knew I would love it.  I knew I would spend too much time on it.  I knew it would suck me in.

And it has.

I'm a lazy son of a gun!  I find that because I can do all of  my computer stuff from my phone, I don't make the extra effort (did I seriously just say that?) to walk over and turn on the computer to blog.  B.I. (before iphone) I would be surfing around or wasting time on the internet and I would think, "Oh, here's a funny story, or something I want to say" and I'd blog.  Now I look across the room at the compter and think, "Nah! Too much work."

And then there is the small matter of how nice my pictures are on my phone.  I love using Instagram.  I don't even know where my camera is.  I'm sure there is a way to easily download pictures from my phone to my computer.  But did I mention that I'm lazy?  It is a whole other step I've not been committing to.  And by other step, I mean learning something new.  I am 40, afterall.

I'm actually sad about this.  I love blogging.  I love having a place to "journal."  I like going back and looking at old pictures.  I need to get out of my rut. 

So, there it is.  The truth.  The embarrassing truth.  I really am looking to get back on the blog bandwagon.  If anyone is still reading.

40 is the new pink, or black, or 30, or something like that

Last week I turned 40.  I'm not sure what the big deal is.  Other than it sounds really old.  I can remember when my parents turned 40.  A few months ago Steve asked what I wanted to do for my birthday.  I'm not one for big parties.  I'd rather gather with a few people and have good conversations than have 60 people around where I feel like I have not talked to anyone.  So that is what we did.  We gathered a few of our friends, got babysitters for the night and headed down to Cincinatti.  We stayed in a nice hotel downtown and had several fun meals out.  It was perfect.  Mostly we sat around.  And talked.  Uninterrupted.  No milks to pour.  No buns to wipe.  Birthday perfection.

The best birthday present I received was a phone call from the doctor's office telling me that the CT Scan I had earlier in the week came back clear.  A continued bill of clean health.  Thank you, Lord!  It was nice of them to call so that I could be freed up to celebrate.  I went in for my final doctor's appointment yesterday (until October.)  I am now considered "under surveillance." 
That means that instead of going in once every week (on average- for the past year and a half.  Whew, talk about a marathon.) I will now go in once every three months.  I will have a CT scan once every six months.  For two years (although I've already put a year in.)  Then I move to every six months for an appointment.  It's pretty exciting (yet a bit scary).

It was a bit sad to not have my parents here to celebrate.  I know there would have been a cake, and presents and phone calls.  I grieved a bit.  I cried a bunch. 

All in all, being 40 is pretty much the same as being 39.  Except with a whole lot more to celebrate!!!

In the blink of an eye

Dear mom,
How have you been gone two years already?  There are so many things I want you to know.  My theology says you are not missing out on anything "down here."  My mind tries to grasp the fact that you are 100% fulfilled and whole.  You are satisfied with your Savior.  But my heart feels an enormous void because you are not here enjoying life with us.  Or perhaps more accurately, I am not able to enjoy you as life happens here.

Two years ago today I didn't know how I would make it through life without you.  The past two years have been some of the toughest I've ever known.  God's grace has allowed me to make it.  Today I am sad.  Today I wonder what life would be like if you were still here to enjoy :

Olivia finishing Kindergarten.
Her going down the big kid slide at the outdoor pool.
Turner and Quinn finishing their first year of school.
The stories week after week when I volunteer in the kids' classrooms.
Giving me advice on the fights the kids get into.
Our first VBS experience last night.
The celebration of me being done with chemo.
My 40th birthday next week.
Our new hard wood floors.
Steve's new job "promotion."
Basically the big stuff and the little stuff that only a *Bebe* would care about.

There are certainly things over these past two years I'm glad you didn't have to face.  Like my cancer, your bald daughter, the stress of decisions, Dad's passing, the loss of Uncle Peter, and others. 

You wanted the details of my day that nobody else (not even me some days) cared about.  You asked good questions and believed our family could do no wrong.  You were my biggest cheerleader.  I miss you so much that on some days my body actually hurts.  Some days I just need my mommy.  Today is one of those days.  I'm so thankful you are not missing out on anything.  You are where you were created for.  But boy, it stinks around here without you!  I love you, mom!