Because I said so.

Mom, I owe you a formal apology: "I'm sorry."

When you forced us girls outside with a gruff, "JUST GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY!" and then shut the door behind us, I thought you were the cruelest, meanest mom in all of Momdom. Where was your colorful apron? Your beautiful lipstick and perfectly placed wispy hair? I was expecting your sing-songy, "Who wants a cooookiieeee?" It was black-holed into nothingness and my daily duties of asking you why you fold shirts in fours, who you were talking to on the phone, whining about Aimee eating the last popsicle or tattling on someone for cutting the tassels off of your throw pillows were not going to happen if I had to go OUTSIDE. I had NO idea why you'd want to miss out on all of that interaction with me...

No...I do have an idea. I got the gist of the idea yesterday. The whole flashback of, "Someday... you'll see!" haunted me.

I have never played the game "OPERATION" on an actual human before. Yesterday offered me that opportunity. Gingerly, oh-so-carefully, I fished out a toy lodged in Gideon's ear (it was placed there in an effort to make him a robot, apparently). There was no red-nosed buzzing for these steady hands. Nope. I also had to deal with the I-WANNA-PLAY-THE-Wiiiii whining from Brody. Ugh. It was too nice outside and I am the most stubborn momma on the planet (poor Brody). Then there was an additional excess of whining, crying, arguing...wow. Was there a full moon last night? When the boys got too close with their light sabers in an epic battle in the kitchen and knocked over my coveted vine-ripened tomatoes, I did the mom growl, "JUST GO OUTSIDE TO PLAY!" As I mopped up the bright red guts, I thought about the way they would've tasted so delightful with basil and olive oil. Sigh.

I would like to know who invented COLORED bubbles? Who was it? And who was the sucker who bought them? Oh, yeah. Me. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves instead of my whining. (Those are orange bubble speckles all over his face, by the way.)





LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! I'm whining about the regular mom stuff and not anything related to cancer. I don't think I have been such a Sourpatch Kid in a LONG while. This entire blog read like Charlie Brown's teacher...only with less inflection and more whiny tones. Sorry.

Lucky for my children, I got a lot of sleep last night and the alarm clock cranked out MIKA as I opened my peepers to the world this morning. How can the day be ushered in with MIKA without a smile? It can't.

So today we will stay away from colored bubbles and milk cartons that have camouflaged twist-on lids (I saved you from the milk explosion in our faces story. You're welcome.) For now, I am so grateful that Gideon's side effects were not long lasting. One of his cancer friends had a horrendous side effect to her Vincristine that sent her to the hospital for an entire month (she is home and doing great now). That makes my rant and venting so very annoying to me, but I am putting it out there anyway. We have normal wah-wah-wah days like the rest of everyone else.

Speaking of the cancer stuff: we go in for counts today. I'm praying for better numbers and that when Dr. Lobel looks in Gideon's ear I'll hear something to boost my ego like, "Wow! There is absolutely NO irritation in here... Are you sure something was ever stuck?!" And then he'll hand me a scalpel and I'll try out my hand at being a surgeon... Kidding. I heard I need to go to school for that.

Oh. And Gideon just brought in a fresh bouquet of forget-me-nots. I feel better. I'm gonna make it a beautiful morning now.