I’ve been needin’ a little reminder lately to

PICK MY BATTLES.

I tell my kids to do it all the time.  Yet, Mama needs a little dose of her own rants medicine.

I always said that if this blog could help just ONE person, then I felt it had accomplished the task I felt called to do.

Who knew that one day, it may even be  MYSELF?

THANK YOU, GOD. 

And now a word from “Buna”… nearly one year ago.

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I should head over to a tattoo parlor and have them brand this on my 3 year old’s forehead , my very mobile one year old’s forehead,  the foreheads of ALL of my children ,  MY body somewhere, in a very prominent location to remind me daily to quit trying to fight every single battle that pops up on a daily hourly basis.  Seriously!  Yes, of course, I feel like I have some new battles that may not be the norm for most (due to this whole breast cancer thing) but I still face the same ol’ battles of any other woman who would like to function as a normal person in the world.  Yet sometimes.  “Life” just gets in the way!

I’ve had many “moments” lately.  I’m talkin’ about the moments where I “lose my business”.  It’s bound to happened,  I mean,  I just finished 6 rounds of chemotherapy, and am in fact still wrestling in the ring of that 6th round.  During my 5th round,  I found that my chemo side effects, at this point, are (or as my doc described) “accumulative”.   In other words, this bod of mine has been basically poisoned since the beginning of August, so its more difficult to find those “good weeks” where I don’t feel the effects as much.  I’m like a saturated sponge that’s been dipped in “the funk” and just can’t expunge itself, if that makes sense?  So… sometimes, I’m a little cranky.

Perfectly normal.  You don’t have to be going through chemo or any extreme anything to be allowed a little cranky from time to time.  Lately, however, I’ve found myself having a fairly short wick at the oddest moments.  This past week, I found myself trying so hard to overcompensate for my sleepiness the week before, my kids’ worrying over their sick mommy, etc.  I wanted so badly to be the best mom and wife in the whole world and would take my “good moments” and do something special to show my family I was really trying.  When it backfired,  I lost it.  It just stinks, since I know I was “losing it” on the very people who I was trying to love most.  I felt defeated and wanted to just throw in the towel.

That’s when I remembered a very wise mama that I met back in the beginning of this whole motherhood journey.  My Sidekick was just that, a little baby stuck to my side every where I went.  Just the two of us.  She was so portable, I stuck her in that car seat carrier of hers as if it was another purse and travelled many trips to visit friends and families while my hubbie was in grad school.  We lived just outside of Washington, D.C. while he went to school in the city.  We were on our second year of marriage trying to figure out the whole marriage thing and the baby thing, and at times, our life seemed pretty simple, and at others, I was totally and completely overwhelmed! One snowy day, feeling like quite the overachiever, I bundled myself and my bambina up to attempt to go run errands and even be über holy and go to church all on our own for a daily mass.  Can you see the writing on the wall here?  Snow + baby + bundling/layering of clothes + errands(plural) + church = I’m setting myself up for “a good blooper reel”.  I was determined.

Reminds me a little of Kevin James in this clip/link below from “Hitch”…”You cannot stop this!”

Kevin James /Hitch Dance Lesson Clip:  (short version)

Thankfully, church was first on the list so that I could bump into the aforementioned “very wise mama“.  After all the diapering and layering and bundling that goes along with living in a snowy area, multiplied with the stress of the clock ticking away as you try to do all of that (which you somehow forget takes longer than your normal “get ready routine”), and just for fun, add on the fact that your child will inevitably spoil the diaper, audibly, from way down in all of those layers, moms have to make a choice on these kinds of mornings.  Do I have enough coffee for today?  How bad do I really want to or need to do all of this? Am I crazy enough to keep going? That day for me, I was like a freight train that wasn’t stopping.  I just put an extra baby outfit in the diaper bag, grabbed the keys and left, assuming that she had enough layers on that it couldn’t get through the top layer by the time we got there.

I missed the first part of mass just by merit that we took to long getting out of the door. Then I changed my little stinker through the Gospel and homily, throwing her whole first outfit in the trash.  Finally trudging out with my new clean, happy, LOUD baby who squealed through the rest of mass, and fussed and fussed at the time of communion because this 5 month old hungry nursing baby HAD to be fed right then.  UGH.  It wasn’t looking like my day.

By the end of mass, I was spent and didn’t leave my pew as the rest of the parishioners filed out.  That’s when she approached me.  The very wise, veteran mama.  She, being a mother of 6, and a military wife had plenty experience under her belt, and frankly I was nervous as she approached.   I was like a little peon in her presence.  She could chew me up and spit me out.  But, alas,  she simply leaned over and whispered in my ear,

“SHE MAY HAVE WON THIS BATTLE.  BUT YOU WILL WIN THE WAR.”

Awwwww  yeah!  Take that, Baby Sidekick!  I’m gonna win this war.  And guess what,  I just got filled up with the Holy Spirit, even just by sitting here in this church.  So I have AMMO.  Bam!  Now I have to admit, I couldn’t help but follow that veteran mama around like a puppy out of the church and pick her brain for advice.  She kept reminding me that it’s all about balance. (I’m paraphrasing here) “You have to find what works best for you and your family, but also, any good leader of any battle always chose his/her battles rightly and knows when to pull back and when to press on.  That doesn’t mean giving up, that means doing what was right for your family, no matter how big or how small they are.”  I was kinda like her groupie for a while after that.  Even if it just meant me watching her from afar.  She wasn’t afraid to bring all of her kids to church, some looking dressed just right, others clearly dressing themselves in their own “creative style” and maybe one missing a shoe.  But, nevertheless, she’d “won the war” and they were there.   She didn’t throw in the towel.  She didn’t give up.

We only lived there for two years, but I learned a lot from her.  I learned a lot from just my trials and errors (many, many errors) of working out the kinks of our first years of marriage and parenthood out there away from family, on our own, in that one bedroom apartment during grad school.

And a decade later, we are here. and I’m still the same woman.  My life appears quite different with 4 more kids, a dog, new jobs, new house, back in Louisiana with family this time, but now bald as a baby while waging my own new war called “cancer” while still picking my still ever-present battles of family life.  And, just like anyone, I get equally confused as to which battles to pick.  I wake up some mornings so ready to just “conquer the world”, “kick butt and take names”, that my vision gets a little clouded until I’m in the thick of the war and am ready to wave the white flag!

The following 2 examples of recent outings with my 2 youngest depict when I am an overachiever, clouded by pride…determined to WIN the war yet unable to “fall back” to avoid casualties of war.  Whilst another depicts, possibly, a smarter leader, who recognizes the needs of her soldiers and knows “when to say when.”  Clearly, you’ll know which is which.

(Depicted below are my partners in crime, for a better visual while reading)

Outing #1: Easier if I describe as such.  Mind you, only a tiny excerpt of our 3 HOUR Target outing. Why? I still don’t know.  I’m crazy that way, I guess.

**How to have your own aisle in Target:**

1) Bring 3 yr old & 1 yr old into dog treat aisle w “big mamma jamma” cart w extra kid seats

2) Make sure all are good and tired & unwilling to sit/be strapped in seats

3)Leave your cold, un-drunken latte in empty seat while wrestling baby

4) Allow 3 yr old to spill latte…

5) Let baby play in latte while you search for wipes to clean up baby, cart, floor

6) Use your last 2 diapers in bag since they’re super absorbent to clean mess!

7) Let baby crawl on floor chewing plastic-wrapped dog bone, 3 yr old squeak every squeaky toy at once, & stand with latte-dripping diapers in each hand when next customer attempts to approach the aisle.

8)When woman asks in disgust, “Oh, honey, is that, diarrhea?”  Try to compose yourself as if to comfort her, “No, no, no.  It’s just coffee. I promise!”

9)As woman quickly takes off.  Say a little prayer that she didn’t go alert authorities now that you’ve realized she probably thinks you gave coffee to your baby who is now having explosive diapers full of coffee that you’ve chosen to change in the middle of a store.

 ( Not that I gained any experience in the area today or anything.  Sigh! But if you wanted privacy with your kids while shopping. This will definitely leave you on your own, apparently.)

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Outing #2: Trip to Craft store, after previous Target trip, to find supplies for Sidekick’s school project. Still crazy, Still determined, but getting smarter now.

1) Mommy attempts to keep kids jolly by serenading whole store with Christmas carols while wrangling baby (who will NOT use buckle or sit) in cart.

2) Mommy’s math skills are tested as she adds up supplies over and over to try to keep spending under $6 (according to school project). Mind you, this is our 3rd attempt at replacing said supplies.

3) After an hour of searching, wrangling children, calculating (I hate math), we approach the 15 person long line and one check out lady helping the elderly coupon clipper lady.

4) We make it to front of line only to find that my items were (supposedly) all priced wrong, and I did not meet my $6 mark.  Therefore the entire shopping trip was a bust.

5) Rather than argue it (wich I could have), I handed over the supplies, took my kids and left.  This was clearly a “fall back moment”  Not my battle.  Not my war.  We were done.

Yes, both of these outings happened in one day.  We arrived at Target at 11am but the trials of losing and searching for a missing shoe in the parking lot on the way in and having a juice box squirted on me in just the first 30 minutes should have deterred me didn’t stop me.  I shook it off and kept rollin’.  Rightfully so. Those were little things.  But once you get to 2:15pm and have enough material from the trip to write a book of How Tos (the above excerpt was merely one of the aisles of disaster), it just might be time for Mommy to “pick my battles” and shorten the shopping list.  However,  when I left both stores, white shirt now many shades of apple juice and coffee (still no latte in my belly (just as well chemo has killed my taste buds and coffee still doesn’t taste right to me anyway,  I just wanted it to), some wins some losses on the ol’ checklist for the day, I could have felt like a loser.  I could have sat with my head on the steering wheel and cried  (not that I’ve done that before or anything??).  But not today.  Instead I could only count my wins and see the blessings.  This was a HUGE day for me.  I’ve come so far.  I actually ran errands with my kids, on my own, and drove my car today.  In the past few months, I rarely get to do that.

God has given me a second chance at life and just by the mere fact that today, no matter how sloppy and ridiculous it was, I was with my kids today, I got out of the house today, I dressed in “normal” clothes today, and I wrestled with my normal “mommy” struggles like a normal day.  And it kinda felt good to feel “normal”.  Crazy is our normal.  I love our crazy.  I hope I never have those particular moments again in public, but miss this life all the same. And am thankful for it.  Yup, I’m crazy.  Hooray for crazy!

So, instead, I looked back in the car at my two little culprits munchkins and high-fived both of them for doing such a good job putting up with Mommy’s long errand run.  Then, I rolled down the windows and played one of my favorites (as I’ve mentioned before), and we sang our hearts out the whole way home.

U2: It’s a Beautiful Day

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Thank you, Lord, for waking me up to another beautiful Day.  Thank you for second chances and for the grace to know when to fight and when to rest; when to push forward in a battle and when to fall back; when to carry the cross on my own and when to let the many “Simons” in my life help me carry it.  Give me the grace to see clearly and to know your will and not be clouded by my own agendas or determined-overachieving self.  You have never given up on me, even when I gave up on You and have mistrusted you many times in my life.  Allow me the grace to know that in choosing battles and “falling back”, I’m not admitting defeat, but waging a smarter war in order to win in the end. And to win in YOUR name, not mine.  I won’t give up this fight, you’ve let me come too far. 

Thank you, God for “every little thing”.

Amen 

… there were 22 Cancer survivors who had faced battle after battle, staring death in the face.  Much like soldiers who bravely stand up to the challenge of war, choosing to defend their country, coming back with scars (if returning at all), these survivors (among millions of others all over the globe) have endured similar battles, although they never signed up for the fight.   Similarly,  both sets of warriors (soldiers and cancer survivors alike) may receive the honor of being gifted with life again after the fight.  However, the fight never quite seems finished.  The battle feels forever branded in their bodies through their scars, their aches, their memories, the side effects and random triggers left behind from what they had to endure to make it through their war.  During that war, it may have seen like a “no brainer” to fight, to endure, to put their game face on, to look to those pictures of their families to come home to, and to cling to their FAITH for support.  For their impressive attitude and COURAGE under fire, these soldiers and survivors are embraced and called “inspirations” and “heroes”.  That, they are.  They are to their families.  They are to each other.

However, if you ask them… most don’t know how to respond to such names.

They don’t know how to react when the battle’s over and the word “HERO” is slapped on there with a “good job” and pat on the back.

Although their endless gratitude for the support, love and prayers for them lives on forever and the genuine love for those who they fought for is ever present in their hearts…

One day, the joy and gratitude is all that they can think about.  Underneath, however, if you really ask them…

it doesn’t feel over.  The battle lives on.

A warrior never forgets.

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In this epic tale, a chosen group of strong, but scarred survivors had been chosen to be honored for their feats in the most unique way, told here as in a very unlikely fairy tale.

Many of these “heroes” became a part of this story willingly, and some were written into it whether they liked it or not.  However,  from beginning to end, the process was necessary for each character.   For each of them, their back story was unique, their journey throughout was different, yet the outcome became powerful for all.

This fairytale began with 20 Women and 2 Men who’d faced the ugliness of cancer and were one day plucked up by a team of Magical Fairy Godmothers for 6 months of transformation and healing from the inside-out until they ended up on … THE RUNWAY!!!

BIBBIDI …. BOBBIDI …  BOO!!!

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I was blessed to be a part of this magical “fairy tale” program called YouNight Empowering Events. I was enthusiastic about the program, as I’d gone to their 2nd event in October 2014 during one of my chemo rounds through the coaxing of both my long time friend, Angelle Albright – of Chemobeanies, and incredible oncologist, Dr. Jay Saux.  (In fact, like it or not, they’d already signed me up as the first model for 2015!)  As I sat in awe of all of the women of that 2014 group rockin’ that runway, knowing they had once been in my shoes, bald as I was in that audience, sick as I was during each break of the show, but looking like a million bucks not only in their outfits, but in their eyes.  They had a look in their eyes that shined brighter than any of the sequins or beading on any of those gowns.  They felt amazing and we all knew it.  You could see in the way they walked out there that they actually felt… ALIVE!

I wanted that.  BAD.

When I left the show that night,  I had no doubt in my mind that I was doing this thing. It was just one more goal to kick this whole “cancer thing”!

Although I’m mostly a barefoot kinda gal, I couldn’t wait to get up there one day and strut my stuff with other “role models” (as they’ve so honorably named them).  To make it to that runway one day and twirl around in a pair of stilettos didn’t mean I was playing some kind of “look at me” center-of -attention game; rather, it would mean that I’d made it.  I’d stared death in the face and showed cancer who’s boss.  It would give my family and friends  (who’d seen me slumped in an infusion chair, or sick on the bathroom floor, or asleep AGAIN when my kids came home from school, bald and patchy as my hair fell out or grew back, or too weak to pick up my toddler because I was post op from so many surgeries)… the chance to see me on a RUNWAY in a pair of STILETTOS, looking HEALTHIER than they’d seen me in a LOOOOOONG LOOOOONG time.  We ALL needed that.  I needed to feel it and THEY needed to see it.  Those 3 and 4 inch heels (Yes, that’s how high my shoes were, no exaggeration. Just check out my pics)  had a whole lot of meaning.  It may sound ridiculous to some, but to us, that’s enough to make a grown man cry.  Just ask my husband, my brothers, …. and my DAD!

Our first kick off event began while I was still in the hospital from one of my surgeries, and for a few of us, our training started while we still had other surgeries and/or infusions continuing.  Yet, when we began to get together more and get to know one another, we started to let our guards down and notice how much this whole experience meant … These meetings were becoming just as important as all of our other medical appointments.

YouNight was our treatment after treatment.

It was just what the doctor ordered.  During each phase of our major treatments (chemotherapy, radiation, surgeries), we have nurses, techs, doctors, therapists, and nutritionists walking us through every leg of our medical needs.  They explain what to expect before beginning each new medicine or procedure and talk us through any new side effects we might experience that we didn’t expect.  However, when we walk out of that cancer center or surgical center for the last time (other than your next 3 or 6 month follow up),  you feel much like you’re on your own now.   Any new emotions,  effects in your body, etc., are muddled into what could be just “you” or possibly what’s to be expected “after cancer”.  You’re just not sure.  Thankfully, I’ve got some amazing docs that I trust enough to talk to and give a shout out.  Yet, ya just never quite know what to ask and when.  No one wants to be “that patient” that just won’t go away with the questions, like some kind of annoying ex-girlfriend! ( Oy vey! )

Being in the room with all of these (good lookin’, I might add) guys and gals who totally  “GOT IT” was such a relief!  Whew!  Our Wednesday night “rehearsals” became so much more than “practice”.  We got to know each other.  We heard each others’ stories.  We were there for one another.   We formed real friendships.  We goofed off! (Allow me to tip my hat. 😉 Imagine that!)  With our team of THE MOST CREATIVE photographers on the planet (Candra and Dylan… WOW… just wow!) , absolutely gorgeous (and oh so hot and slinky) modeling coaches/choreographers(Celeste and her team, Can I just be like you when I ever decide to grow up? #PeterPanSyndrome), the generous and fun loving boutiques and stylists  that understood this experience to be so much more than just getting dressed up – but a true metamorphosis from inside out (Shout out to my personal ladies at #TheVilla, #Hemline, #TheMix, Rhonda Cavaretta & Felicia Cary at #ParisParker… Nothin’ but love!!!), our loving and personable ministers (their prayers and words were without fail- always on point!) , selfless volunteer team members (Couldn’t do this without you ladies, really!),  the selfless and sleepless Eloise Early, and two of the most innovative-creative-fun loving-absolutely beautiful inside and out founders EVER (Susan Bopp and Lisa McKenzie)… we were bound for greatness.  This team, mind you, make up our…

FAIRY GOD MOTHERS!

With the wave of their wand, and A LOT of rehearsing, they took us from a motley crew of some shy, some goofy, some indifferent, and most spewing with what was wrong with us and what would need to be “fixed” for pictures.   However, by the time our Fairy Godmothers at Creating U Modeling had only just begun to teach us how to “pose” we couldn’t believe our eyes when Candra George of My Creative Reality showed us a beauty that she saw with her camera lens, that we (on our own) could no longer see… especially after cancer had taken its toll on us.  She saw something different. She saw something strong and beautiful in each of us.  These magical women made us feel like we could do this.

And we did.

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The rest of the fairy tale I will tell in pictures.  They speak for themselves.  On October 22nd, 2015,  the 4th class of YouNight (“THE FIGHT CLUB”) hit the longest runway of this program yet (over 70 feet in length!  And we gave it a knock out punch!  20 Cinderellas and 2 Prince Charmings in flashy clothes and boxing robes (literally) took the Mandeville Castine Center by storm in one very magical evening that we will never forget.  Our story isn’t over, I cannot tell you our ending because it isn’t finished. “Happily ever after…” wouldn’t be appropriate here because that’s not what we expect, hope, or guarantee for survivors.  However, “Grateful and empowered forever more” may be a better fitting “slipper” for our “class” and hopefully for the many, many, MANY classes of YouNight to come!

**For info on how YOU or a friend can sign up or how you can SUPPORT You Night, click on the hyperlink above!  Be a fairy godmother and keep the magic alive!**

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Without further adieu… the CLASS OF 2015 “FIGHT CLUB”:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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**PLEASE, I beg of you all to click on the links below to see FAR BETTER pictures, and videos of ALL of the MODELS, SPONSORS, VOLUNTEERS, TEAM, and GUESTS, that attended this amazing event! It was a truly EPIC event!**

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Meet The Class of 2015 “Fight Club” Boxing Video Montage

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YouNight Facebook Page

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YouNight Website