The Most Wonderful Time of the Year !?!

Posted by teambuna

This has been our family this Christmas…off kilter…. crazy. Heck, this is our family every day. Up, down and all around. I’m happy to say, we’re not normal. Who is? We live off-kilter.

After ~~politely asking the children to take a few more pics~~ , err, bribing them with my usual Smarties in my pocket between shots (don’t leave home with out ’em when taking family photos!), we got another wonderful photo shoot at such a very special time in our family’s life. Special thanks to our photographer, Merideth Bennett. We’ll be posting a few updated photos in our BIG FAMILY life blog tab a.s.a.p. for you to check out. Have patience, though… we kinda have a lot going on at the moment. 😉

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But seriously, let’s talk Christmas prep, People. I absolutely love, love, love all things holiday. I mean ANY holiday. I get really into it. I was the kid that drooled over the homes with yards covered with mechanical sleighs and reindeer on their rooftops, dripping with lights that sung songs, Santas that danced, and practically shot fireworks from their chimneys as far as my imagination was concerned. “Tacky” wasn’t in my vocabulary. I had set my mind that I was going to be “that lady”. So, I then married, “Clark Griswold”. We’ve toned down from the original crayon sketched plans I had made, but we have many phases of lights that we intend to add on to each year. Let’s just say, as ol’ “Clark” puts it…. “It ain’t Christmas until the inflatable Jesus/Nativity scene is up in the front yard!” Absolutely real. We both have a problem…

As most parents know, taking family pics, getting cards out, and the buying/hiding/finding where you hid the presents/wrapping/rehiding/unhiding again/refinding/and putting all paraphernalia back under the tree…finally… should truly be an Olympic event! I mean, really. Can I get an “Amen”? Did I mention that I have stairs? This year, I ain’t exactly what I used to be. Just one run up the stairs, and I’m panting. Frustrating.

The truth is. I’m often reminded that, there’s all of this rigmarole about the present; yet, truly, I am supposed to not only be keeping myself focused on “the reason for the season”, but keeping my kids focused, too? Oy vey! All I could think this Advent season was, “Baby, Jesus, I’m so very, very glad it’s your birthday, because, Boy, do I need you right now. More than ever! I’m not being sarcastic. I mean that with every bit of my being. But I’m spent and I’m not sure how I’m gonna pull this one through this year. All I wanna do is wave a magic wand, have presents under the tree, collapse on the couch, watch some Christmas movies, and sing “Silent Night” over and over again for our family night prayers until all fall asleep. Then, I’ll sip wine by the fire, if I’m not already asleep myself. Because, well…

Seriously. This Advent, I started off strong. I had finished my big 6 rounds of chemo and everyone saw me ring the ol’ bell at Mary Bird Perkins center. However, I wasn’t as excited as everyone else was. I didn’t really want to ring that bell. I’m not “done with chemo”. I still return every 3 weeks through the summer for Herceptin, which is one of my “chemo meds” (a targeted chemotherapy particular to my diagnosis). I will also have my Mastectomy and Reconstruction on January 6th which I’m starting to get a little nervous about. Excited, but with all the preop tests and paperwork, I can’t help but get worked up a bit about this new unknown phase of my journey.

So… as my house fills up with “TMK” (Too Many Kids), as Jim Gaffigan references it in his own “Dad is Fat” book (linked below on Amazon) or “Mr.Universe” stand up routine (found on Netflix (highly recommend!!!) referring to his own family (No worries or offenses, He is proudly, and hilariously owns his T.M.K., 5 kiddos of his own.)…. My house is now reminding me that the walls are closing in, and my Christmas hopes and idealisms just might not happen! Eeghad!!

“Dad is Fat” by Jim Gaffigan -on Amazon

Why? Because, one, I ain’t perfect. That’s the first reality we all have to face. I swallow that pill first before any of my other meds each morning, and have been… way before my diagnosis. Those pills are called: “SPAZ” and “Lower the Bar You, Nincompoop, ‘Cuz You Don’t Have You To Do It All & You Ain’t No Martha Stewart or Need to Be A Super Freak- Wonder Mama”. Yes, those are the names of my over the counter, self prescribed meds that I’ve been taking for a very looong time. (Yes, the second one is a little lengthy in title, so the generic form is “Buna”. I can meet you in a back alley somewhere and give it to you in a handy paper bag if you like. It looks a lot like a bottle of wine!) Let me know if you need me to send you a script. 🙂 This particular diagnosis of spastic nature, is both genetic and self-inflicted. Sorry, to my hubbie and kiddos. It is what it is. And, warning, it does rub off. Cheers!

**Perfect example as follows: Me and kiddos doing “The Grinch” impressions, which we tried to keep up throughout entire movie. Don’t recommend it. Holy face cramps, Batman!**

Back to my “Whoa is me pity party”… 😉

…. (sniff sniff) to add to that, I also went in on December 23rd for that described “easy” Herceptin chemo treatment … that hit me like a ton of bricks! I was in good company with my 2 eldest, Sidekick, Sunshine, and my Dad! All first timers in the Infusion Suite, which helped keep my spirits up when heading back there after ringing the bell when everyone else thinks, “You’re done! Congratulations!” When I know I’m not. Kind of a bummer. Very hard to explain. It left me feeling pretty emotional and very, very nauseous. I handled all of my other rounds like a champ, even though my side effects were ridiculous, I knew what to do, but this one, although so much smaller, just defeated my spirits and blind sided me. I wasn’t ready to feel so sick. My days just before Christmas were feeling a bit more like this guy’s…

(Don’t watch if squeamish or if you’re mature at all. I’m a dork and am often not. Do, though, if you love Will Farrell! I’m capable of posting classier humor, but not today. My apologies. Haha!)

Click here: Will Farrel ‘s Most Motion Sickness TIme of the Year (Mark Jensen & Family)

Yup, I had every intention of cruisin’ out of there feelin’ tired, but good. Nope. I was surely caught off-guard. I lost sight of my “no worries attitude”… again. The calls about my surgeries came in the same day, while getting the infusions to go get more tests, mammograms, labs, chest x-rays, PT Scans, echocardiograms, ultrasounds, blah blah blah…, all while I just wanted to go have fun throughout the break with my family. Instead, I wanted to curl up in a ball with a bucket next to me, yet I still hadn’t finished wrapping my last presents. Poopy. Poopy. Poopy.

It hit my body for a good 2 days. I cried and sat in a warm Epsom salt tub while my mama took over the house with my 5 kids all home for the Christmas break, and I cried some more. I couldn’t stop. I was an emotional roller coaster and was running off the tracks! I was either off the tracks or just got stuck on the perpetual loopty-loop and kept dragging my husband and mom right with me. I tried to spare my kids, but I’m pretty sure my care takers got the brunt of it. I was mortified and borderline depressed. This is NOT how Christmas was supposed to be. This was NOT the plan. This is NOT how I intend to spend my “break” between my “big chemo rounds” and my surgery that’s just around the corner. Dang it! Something has GOT to stop. Where’s my faith? Where’s my hope? Where’s my Bob Marley songs that the Big Guy upstairs sings to me in my prayers? … Then it hit me again. I just got scared and plugged my ears at some point. Crapola! I did it again. I was doing all the fighting and worrying and “taking over”, and forgot who was in charge here, really, and who was the spaz (allow me to tip my hat and take a bow).

Then I grabbed my phone, went to my blog’s prayer wall and looked over your intentions, and refocused all the crapola I was feeling and offered it right back to where it needed to go. Thank you for your intentions, I needed them at that moment. Then, I read my daily advent prayers and kicked myself in the butt. Christ was coming for me and for all of you who were asking for prayers. Every little thing was gonna be alright … because He was coming. Jesus was going to be born! That’s what Christmas was all about. The reason for the season. Not my to do list. Not the fun activities I’ve been planning, not the gift wrapping, not the parties, not the outfits, not any of that… the Christ child. I got dressed, and went downstairs to look around at my many blessings. Not just my T.M.K., but my T.M.B. (Too Many Blessings), too many too count! I’m surrounded! I looked at our collection of nativities: some passed on from generations, some as gifts from friends and families, and some homemade by little hands (pics below)… and the warmth of His holy spirit, of the Christ child started breathing in me. Like a warm glow.

Willow Tree Nativity (Wedding Gift from Family Friends); Family Nativity Handed down from Generations (Bottom shelf)

Children’s Framed Art Nativities(Kindergarten Projects)

Homemade/Classmade nativity: Sidekick made holy family in PreK, We added on Wisemen and animals at home with wood blocks and felt

Every toddler’s classic Little People Play Nativity… complete with penmarks and puppy chewed feet

Homemade Toilet Paper Roll Nativity Set… gotta love the cotton ball sheep! (girls used to spend hours doing puppet shows with them!)

Soft nativity in a bag.. good to bring to church for little ones

Our latest Magnet Nativity for the Fridge! Snuggles’ and Firecracker’s fave this year

Then we prayed our Jesse tree prayers, as a family, putting each ornament on our homemade felt tree, made years ago when I had a few extra moments on my hand (Ha! What’s that like?). I felt so blessed to hear my children talking about their love and understanding of their faith and excitement of Jesus coming. They really “get it.”

Our Jesse Tree, Thanks to the idea from a friend, Katie Wayert

….BUT THEN THERE WAS CHRISTMAS MORN …

After many human alarm clocks starting at 3 am, and every hour after that, until we finally gave in at 6:30a.m., we all opened our stockings on Mommy and Daddy’s bed (as is tradition) before heading down the stairs to Aaron Neville or Nat King Cole Christmas music playing, Daddy standing at the bottom of the stairs with the video camera rolling and kids ready to run down and rip open presents. But not this year. Nope. This year, they asked if they could spend the first hour each giving their own gifts, one by one, to open that they had either made or spent their own money on at the consignment store for their siblings. My mom had taken them, and they wrapped them on their own. Not what we expected, but It was the cutest, sweetest thing ever!

It gets better.

They appreciated every gift. They took their time, and they paused before their final gift that they each saw, the same size, in the same wrapping paper, under the tree (about the size of a book, they assumed) to go eat our traditional breakfast of powdered donut snowmen and egg muffins while singing Happy b-day to Jesus. Then, it was time.

They casually approached the tree to open their last gift, one by one picking up their last small gift. Sidekick, the first to begin unwrapping her gift marked “From Santa”. Instant screams, shrieks, and tears… no exaggeration… the girl shook with tears of joy! Why? She unwrapped her first ever big “electronic”. Each of our kids then tore open their gifts to see that they’d each gotten Kindles!!! Santa must have spoken to a team of very generous elves to get those under our tree this year, for our kids know that that’s not something we could have ever done before, nor should it be something we could do this year of all the years. They all screamed and cried, literally. I cried watching, and I normally don’t cry tears of joy… I’m a happy laugher, not a happy crier… but this was just overwhelming.

To quote Sidekick: “I guess, Mommy, Santa knew that all those other years that other kids had Kindles and iPads and stuff and we didn’t but would have wanted them, maybe our hearts weren’t in the right place. But this year, we just want to be together. We just want each other and are happy for anything really, and I guess Santa was just waiting for that or something? I guess Christmas really is about being together and about Jesus, because once you get that, St. Nick blessed us for it. God is good! (all her sibs responded “All the Time“) All the Time? (They continued… “God is good!”)

No lie, that’s what she said. I could never have said it better myself. She and all of my kids, for that matter, in every way that they shared and received their presents for and from one another and from Santa, were instruments of the Holy Spirit teaching me this Christmas. Their gratefulness was beyond measure, their patience was beautiful, and their love that morning for one another was so Christ-like. Granted, they are very human, and we are a hot mess on a regular basis. As I said before, we’re up, down, and all around. But this Christmas, we were given a special gift and insight into something that we all really needed, even just for one moment, for one morning. It felt like a glimpse of Heaven to me and something to live for. I needed it. My kids taught ME this time.

And these are the morals of my personal Christmas story:

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Every little thing IS gonna be alright… especially when the littlest gift of this season is a baby, Jesus, who’s come to give us life everlasting!!! I’d say that’s ALRIGHT!!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS, Y’ALL!!!

“Fulton street miracle” in New Orleans… soap snow falls from the sky! 🙂 hilarious to all you Yankees, I’m sure!

Thank you for absolutely everything that every last one of you has done to pray for us and support us in every way , shape, and form. Nothing has gone unnoticed. Thank you from the top of my bald head to the bottom of my toes. My family thanks you, my extended family thanks you, and I know that my doctors and nurses thank you. You have been “our village” this year and we definitely have learned that it takes a village to make it all work. We pray you remain with us in the new year. Have a blessed New Year and…

“God bless us, Everyone!”-Tiny Tim

The Vigil with Grammie

Christmas Morning with Grandaddy and Karen

(Yes, that is a Gingerbread “Oh, Snap!” Christmas Sweater that I’m wearing)

Pickin’ Battles to Win the War: How to Keep Going When “Life” Gets in the Way

Posted by teambuna

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.)

……….

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

………….

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