Because I just spent a half an hour swiffering my floor and rubbing POOP off my dog's face. I caught him noshing a Bradie diaper just as I laid the kids down for their nap. Now he's pacing the floor, approaching lunacy the same way a person might be after losing a winning lottery ticket.
A few days ago, Marcus came striding into our bedroom with a tell-tale jingling sound following him. He pulled from his pajama pants pocket four bottles of pills and threw them to the bed as he climbed in. He sighed, "I look like a damn cancer patient!" This response caught us both by surprise and good chuckle was had.
This same man came home today with a fire under him and proceeded to move all the furniture so he could vacuum underneath. By Marcus' definition, this is real vacuuming. I try to check the vacuuming chore off my list about once (gasp!) a week. He always notices but often will ask me, "did you move stuff?" This is when I gesture towards the squirming poo machine on his playmat or Tornado Sue busily emptying her Lego box over the fresh carpet and say, "Yes, I moved them and that should be good enough!"
Same day and with the same fire, Marcus is doing the dinner dishes. I help by stowing away the perishables (we had fajitas, if you wonder). For whatever reason I am singing Paula Abdul's "Opposites Attract". I find that I still remember the words to this song, and am quite pleased with myself. Marcus could care less until I take "two steps forward" and dance up on him Night at the Roxbury style, only to have him crack the tiniest smile. He's always a tough crowd, but I find it keeps my own comedy sharp.
We find ourselves thankful and relieved for Marcus to be done with his second and final dose of chemotherapy. He got a prescription of Zofran at the hospital this time and was told to take it along with ALL the other anti-nauseas....hmm, why someone didn't mention earlier that you could take them all in combination is baffling to us, but we don't care. We are just thrilled no cookies were tossed!
Grandma Janie and Papa Dave also spent the weekend with us which is always super fun and a big relief for me, especially not knowing how the chemo would settle with Marcus this time. Bradie LOVES her Grandma and Papa! Brad also had dinner with us (always shows up at dinner time, its the strangest thing) and helped us to procure some Josh Ritter tickets for this summer. I am not totally sold on Josh Ritter, so I am sure the concert will help push me into fan status.
Let's see... oh, Bradie is *trying* to potty train. She did really well and had kind of a meltdown and now we're back to yelling at the mere mention of the potty. I've heard it can be a step forward/step back process, so I am trying to be patient and wise. And as helpful as Grandma was with pottying Bradie, I think having an "audience" might have been too much?? AHHHH! I don't know what I am doing! I find myself questioning my choices with parenting all the time and worrying that my daughter will one day discuss her "mommy issues" with Dr. Phil! Okay, that might be a little dramatic, but everything feels so major sometimes with a two year old.
And Beau. The kid is a peach. A fuzzy, smiley, squishy peach. And he's doing this almost laugh thing that sounds like Goofey. I love him. He's worth missing out on all the dairy products in the world! Yeah, the kid poops green otherwise, which is lame.
I will end with some ghetto facts:
The smaller the yard, the bigger the dog.
It is strangely quiet on Indy weekend.
Malt liquor is a fine choice for hydration while watching small children.
And I feel confident enough in the images of my adorable children to add an update as well. Chemo sucks. Marcus is recovered from the emetic side effects, although very tired. Zofran is a miracle drug and he shall be requesting that from the get-go of dose number two scheduled for 5/22.
Oh and Beau's two month visit happened last week: 24.5 inches long- 90% 12 pounds 15.5 ounces- 80% melon is 39 cm- 50%
Nothing like big, tall baby boys with itty bitty heads! :)