Done With The Holidays

I am so glad it's all over.
I am just so so glad. Did I tell you how happy I am that the holidays are done?
The girls had a good time and that's what counts.
As for the rest of it, there was a dark cloud over my house. A bad attitude among us. Oh, there were times I could have been nicer, but all in all, I would have to say when one person is MISERABLE, they tend to cast that on everyone.
I will NEVER NEVER NEVER spend my holidays again, the way I did this year. I am so disgusted at a grown persons behavior. Bridges were burned. They next time I have this guest in my house will be a longgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg time from now. If ever.
Seriously.
It's just not right.
Seriously.

Peace Out

This is for the Giffy

This blog is for you Mr Gifford....
Do you ever feel like you are on the outside looking in? And when you do feel that way, aren't you glad it's not the other way around?It's never easy to blaze your own trail. You do it well. I am not always such a cool customer. Yet, I have to say being a parent has made me uncool on so many different levels. Mostly, how much shit I will or will not tolerate.
You're a smooth operator and I am gonna try and catch your flow.

Peace Out

My head is a box full of nothing
and that's the way I like it
My garden's a secret compartment
and that's the way I like it
and that's the way I like it
Your body's a dream that turns violent
and that's the way I like it
and that's the way I like it
The winter is long in the city
and that's the way I like it
-Ben Lee

Fate Smiled at Destiny

These two are the product of love. So sweet. So funny.




I believe
fate smiled and destiny
laughed as she came to my cradle
"know this child will be able"
laughed as she came to my mother
"know this child will not suffer"
laughed as my body she lifted
"know this child will be gifted
with love, with patience
and with faith
she'll make her way"
-Natalie Merchant

Moments of Hope

This year we decided to adopt a family from United Way to help them with Christmas.

I have been thinking quite a bit this year about want vs. need. I am blessed blessed blessed that my children NEED nothing. The want part is a whole different story...

I received the letter below from someone at United Way that describes the painful yet wonderful work that she does.

I cannot tell you how it touched me. The impact, for me, is so tangible.

I will not be giving gifts this year (except a few to my girls)

I will not be doing cards.

I will not stretch my families bank account out just to have something in a box for someone to open.

I will not go to the mall and shop like crazy and get stressed out.

BUT...

I will bask in the love of my daughters and my partner.

I will bake some cookies.

I will make phone calls and tell family and friends that I love them and miss them.

I will say my prayers for love, peace and a long life.

I hope you feel the message below as I did.

Peace Out

Moments of Hope and Triumph

My days are spent sitting on the floor of my office (occasionally exchanged for my

official therapist’s chair) providing therapy to children and teenagers who have been the victims of sexual or physical abuse or other traumas. The children I see have endured unspeakable experiences, and it is my job to help them, in some way, to speak of these things, to heal and to move on to a semblance of normal life. There are children who have been forced by a loved one to perform baffling and humiliating sexual acts, sometimes over a period of years; there are children whose bones have been broken by their parents, and there are children who have witnessed the murder of a parent and held that parent’s hand as he lay dying. The range of these children’s experiences is vast, and too varied to recount in detail.

It may seem as though it would be too heartbreaking to endure, listening to the children’s individual stories of trauma. However, the reality is that although children address their issues in therapy, they do not spend all their time in tears or despair. In fact, many of them seem to have in common a wish, even a drive, to appear and be normal. From this wish, there emerges a sort of hopefulness and even optimism, which can help to propel the therapy forward towards healing. In the process, there is much richness – in the children’s expressions of hurt, fear and anger; in their depictions of their traumatic experiences; in their resolutions of existential dilemmas; in their humor, and in their individual personalities and modes of expression.

There are difficulties in this work, but these do not have so much to do with hearing the children’s experiences: I have long since accepted that these things happen in our world. The difficulties have to do with the children who can’t be reached or helped, the children whose home landscapes are so desolate that the help I provide is not enough to sustain them, and the parents who cannot move beyond their own needs in order to help their children. And there are frustrations, such as the endless mounds of unnecessary paperwork, the bane of all mental health agencies these days.

But, in therapy, there are moments of hope and triumph, moments when I realize something is occurring that is both simple and ordinary, and at the same time, profound and beautiful. What sustains me in this work is the sum total of these many moments.

There are the moments when a child and her mother embrace in tears, the child finally understanding that the mother does not blame her for the horrible thing that has happened and changed their lives so drastically. These are spellbinding moments to witness, rendering me awe-struck by the power of the bond between mother and child.

There are moments when a child moves from the status of victim to that of victor, exacting metaphoric revenge on someone who has hurt him. One such moment is depicted in an eight year-old’s drawing of his abuser, his uncle, behind bars. The uncle reportedly has an intense fear of spiders, so there are many large, malevolent spiders perching on the webs that festoon the cell. Outside his cell, on a table, rests a bowl of popcorn – his favorite food – forever just out of reach.

There are moments when a child arrives at an answer to the age-old question of why bad things happen in the world. After months of struggling with this dilemma, the son of a murder victim, a religious child, demonstrated his answer in the form of a puppet show. In the show, God says “nice” things like “thank you” and “I love you,” the devil says “mean” things like “stupid” and various unprintable words. The human, who is a combination of the two, says both the nice and the mean words, and we understand together that it is our fate to live in a world where people are capable of both divine good and diabolical evil.

There are moments when I feel privileged beyond description. When a distressed teenager hands me her poems, poems about her innermost feelings, born of anguish and despair, I feel I have been entrusted with something more priceless than a medieval manuscript. When children present me with drawings about the therapy itself, I realize I have been given something important and special. These drawings are sometimes of the two of us – drawings in which we hold hands, or perhaps we are piloting a boat with our fishing poles extended from the stern, cruising through serene, tropical seas in which no sharks will ever live. With all these gestures of trust, I’m not sure what I have done to inspire such an honor, but I suspect it’s as simple as the fact that I have taken the time to listen, to respect, and to support. At these times, I realize I have intersected with a young person at a critical juncture, and I have, for a while, accompanied that person on a life-affirming voyage.

And, finally, there are the ultimate golden moments (tinged with some sadness for me), the moments toward which the trajectory of therapy has been leading, when it becomes apparent a child is ready to leave therapy and move along life’s path, no longer needing me to lead or to follow.

Not Feeling It

Today is the 8th of December and I have yet to put up my Christmas stuff.
I just am not feelin' it this year. I am not looking forward to stress of the next couple of weeks. I am feeling a bit hum buggy about it all.
Maybe I need to listen to a bunch of holiday music and watch every holiday show I can. DVR the ones I miss.
I just don't know.
I'm not feeling it.

Peace Out

To Sir With Love

Dear Sir:
You are on the good vibe wheel today. I will be thinking B9!!!!!!!!!!!

Peace Out

Here Comes Crazy

Ya'll wavin the crazy flag yet? The crazy holiday season flag? The flag that waves and turns folks into freaks. You know the one...
People get incredibly hurried and rude this time of year. Families wait all year to bring up all the crap the hurt their feelings or made them mad some time back in April. Then after being together one too many days, the poo hits the fan.
Don't get me wrong, I am no Scrooge. I love the holiday season. I love doing all the works. But I don't like the crazy.
I also do not like the thought of having to give gifts. It's not that I am cheap or uncaring. It's that I can't stand the thought of buying something to put in a box just to give it because I am supposed to. Hate it. What could anyone in my personal circle need? Why make a list and then KNOW that's what you're getting. The are so many people around us who really do have need. Basic need. Shelter, clothing, food, health care.
My family and I have adopted a family from United Way this year. This family has need. Basic need. I would rather spend my time with my children showing them how to give than get.
Around the middle of March I doubt many folks remember what all the got for Christmas.
Wow reading back over this I really do sound like a scrooge. I may not be explaining myself very well.
But then again maybe I am...

Peace Out

Thankful

What are you thankful for?

Good health?
Family?
Warm house?
Clothes on your back?
Food to eat?

Seems so simple doesn't it? But for some it is not. At least not everyday. We bitch and moan about anything and everything.
Gratitude sometimes comes as a flicker. It leaves as quickly as it comes. Just a little glint of sun through some tree branches on a winter day.

We get stuck in our own story.
I do all the time.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving. I am thankful for too much to even mention, but thankful none the less.

Peace Out

Diamonds and Unicorns

This is for you and you know who you are rockin the side pony. Oh yea, try and act like you only did it for Halloween. I bet you do your hair like this every weekend AND that pretty eyeshadow.
You're the best grrl!!!!

Peace Out

Death

I think about it all the time. I think about it daily. Sometimes I think I obsess about it.
It follows me like a dark cloud trying to rain on me. It's like a deep ocean that I am not willing to drown in.
It scares me.
I hate it.
I worry all the time about every cough I get. I worry I will find a lump or bump somewhere. I worry that I will hear the words..the cancer is back.
I think about my body being a mine field. What will be destroyed next?
When will the other shoe drop?
Did it already drop since I have had cancer twice?
Will my girls have a mom? Will they have to watch something horrific happen to me?
Will A have to raise our girls alone?
Death wants to swallow me and I won't let it.
I think about this all the time Every fucking day and I HATE it.
HATE. IT.

What Did You Do Today?

2:30 A.M.- Wake up
3:15 A.M.- Open at Starbucks
7:30 A.M.- Off work
8:40 A.M- Take Elliot to the bus
9:00 A.M.- Laundry, dishes, vacuum. play with Wyatt
11:30 A.M.- Make lunch for me and Wyatt
12:15- Force Wyatt to take a nap so I can take a nap
3:30- Finish laundry
4:30- Get Elliot off the bus
4:45- Make a snack for the girls and start Elliot on her homework and get Wyatt to write her name
5:45- Make dinner
6:30- Do dishes, start girls on a bath
8:00- In bed reading to girls
8:30- Lights off

How was your day?

Peace Out

Pho You!

Until 2 weeks ago, I had never eaten Top Ramen cooked. Yea, I had it uncooked in an Asian type salad but never cooked.
HOLY COW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hit the jack pot to find a package in my pantry that was "Oriental Flavor"
So I cooked it up. Then I put in hoison and red chili sauce. It was gooooood. It tasted just like my favorite soup. Pho. Pho is pronounced fu as in f#*k you. Or rhymes with duh. I love to get Pho'ed up. I Pho'in love it! Traditionally Pho is a Vietnamiese noodle soup. You can have it with beef or chicken or tofu. My family prefers it with beef. My kids love it and often request it.
When I have a cold, it's my go to meal.
You can make it as spicey or unspicey as you like it. We like bean sprouts, raw jalapenos, Thia basil and chili sauce in ours. It's cheap, hot and good.
But now I have discovered my fake Pho. My Oriental flavored Top Ramen. Seven for a dollar. Can't beat that, now can you?
There is a place we like to go here in town called What the Pho. Great name, great Pho.
But now I know if I am really hungry, yet too tired to leave the house I can always have my fake Pho!!
It's Pho'in GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!

Peace the Pho Out

Who is Trixila?

Folks ask me quite often where I came up with the name trixila. I have been using it since I ever got my first email account at Yahoo.
It stems from the name Trixi LaDoux. A fake name I used to use when I wouldn't tell people my real name. You know, for security reasons...
So it got shortened to trixila. See there's nothing really saucy about it or spammish. Just a silly name that has staying power.

Peace Out

House of Cards

I have to say that these last couple of months have been hectic. Elliot started first grade. Wyatt started pre-school. I started working. We're living on one car indefinitely. It's all really small potatoes compared to illness, but still it's been a bit crazy.
I am really liking my job although I get up at the crack of my ass early. I turned a corner last week and seem to be getting a little better at it. It's a lot to remember and with this chemo brain of mine I remember nothing these days. So I take it as a personal challenge to learn my job well enough to be good at it. Never mind that I forget words or the complete meaning of simple phrases. There are days I forget peoples names. People I see everyday.
I will rise to this occasion!!!!
Hmmmm let me see what else....
Just truckin along. Enjoying the arrival of fall. The wind has been blowing like crazy and at this time it feels as though the big bad wolf will blow our house down. But I like the rain and wind and tumbling leaves.
Happy Fall!

Peace Out

This Bitch Was Made For Walking

Tomorrow begins the Seattle 2008 3day walk.
This year feels a bit wonky. My friend Jacqueline was not able to come up from Dallas to walk with me this year.
Anna has had to drop out along with her cousin Angie who has flown in form South Carolina to do the walk.
Now there is a small group of 8. We've worked hard to get here. We've raised money and our glasses. We've broken bones and spent time away from our families all for this weekend. All in hopes of a cure. Elliot asked me last night how many more time would I do the walk. I said as many times as it takes.
Cancer has shaped my children's lives. some days I don't even realize it until they say something about cancer so nonchalantly. Like everyone's mommy has cancer. They really don't know yet that most mommies have their boobs forever. They think it's just what you do. Kinda like making your bed...It's just what you do. It ain't fun but you do it anyway.
So wish me luck. Please don't say break a leg...

Peace Out

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

I have done a lot of dirty deeds in my life and now I am about to cleanse myself right here on my blog...

I clean toilets
I wash clothes
I clean the fish tank
I vacuum the car
I wash dishes
I clean cat litter
I wipe butts
I scrub bath tubs
I change sheets

There you have it. Dirty deeds done dirt cheap.

Here's a little blurb I read today-

(Reuters) -- When Tricia Himawan was a financial analyst, she worked 50 hours a week and earned about $75,000 a year. Now, she works, by her estimation, about 119 hours a week doing 11 different jobs, and, for 10 of them, she makes ... nothing.

"I work nonstop as a mother," says Himawan, of West Orange, New Jersey, as she breast-feeds her nine-month-old son Jonas and watches over 4-year-old Juliana.

If she were paid for her work as a mother, she would be earning almost $140,000 a year.

That is the conclusion of research conducted by Salary.com, a firm based in Waltham, Massachusetts, that specializes in determining compensation. Himawan was one of 40,000 mothers who responded online to Salary.com explaining what their job entailed and how many hours they worked.

The typical mother puts in a 92-hour work week, the company concluded, and works at least 10 jobs. In order of hours spent on them per week, these are: housekeeper, day-care center teacher, cook, computer operator, laundry machine operator, janitor, facilities manager, van driver, chief executive officer and psychologist. By figuring out the median salaries for each position, and calculating the average number of hours worked at each, the firm came up with $138,095 -- three percent higher than last year's results.

Even mothers who work full-time jobs outside the home put in $85,939 worth of work as mothers, according to Salary.com.

"My work is my family right now, and my backbone is about to break," says Himawan, who now also works at home as a real-estate broker."My baby is on my hip 24 hours a day."

CNN's Jonathan Mandell contributed to this report.

So how do you like them apples? I say, HOW. DO.YOU. LIKE. THEM. APPLES?

I have decided to get a job. Actually I got me a job. At Starbucks. Making coffee. Not rocket science. Just good old coffee. My job in no way will affect my children. Their lives will operate as usual. I will be home before they even leave for school. You make ask me, why in the world would you go do something like that? Do you enjoy self torture of waking in the wee hours of the day? Well, I say to you, this is all MINE. It ain't cancer's. It ain't my family's (whom I love more than air) It's all MINE. I will not be talking about chemo, or tits, or soccer classes, or bus schedules. I will smile and say hi and make a steaming beverage that makes folks happy. They will be happy with me. They will think I am the Goddess that has come to deliver them from the sandman. They will look forward to seeing me. They will think I am the shit. And I will be.
I will not tell them how I am going home after my shift to clean shit. I will not tell them that I am in menopause. I will not tell them that my sweet girls need to read for at least 30 minutes every night. I will not tell them anything except that their coffee is now ready.
I will let you know how it goes.
This of course doesn't mean my list of dirty deeds at home will disappear..

Peace Out

Sleep Over

I am trying not to panic.
Both my girls are at my neighbor's house tonight having their first sleep over!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, really their second. The first was at Jason and Amy's house.
They packed their little bags and trotted over like no body's biznazz. The house is quiet. I went grocery shopping ALONE. Anthony and I feel a little lost. We miss them. Do they miss us?
I doubt it.
I am already struggling with the fact that Elliot is going to be in school all day the fall. I have poured six years into that girl. Playdates, classes, preschool, teething, nursing, pottytraining....
And now I am just suppose to let her get on a bus at 8:45 and not see her until 4:08.
AHHHHHHH!
I digress...
So I am waiting to see if I get a call that they want to come home. A watched phone never rings. Anthony is pacing the floor and looking over to the neighbors house. We miss them. Terribly. It's been 5 hours. We are so pathetic.

Peace Out

Got Cancer?

This week there was a big news splash that a celebrity has breast cancer. I thought to myself hmmmmm

So does
Anna Schumacher
Kristin Haugen
Sara Thompson
Colie Taylor
Carol Franco
Coutney Fede
Me
Everyone in Northwest Young Survivors
Everyone on the Young Survivor Coalition boards...

This list goes on and on but I don't see us being on the cover of magazines.
Why does this bother me so much? Cuz it does dammit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cuz it sucks. Cuz cancer has a face when a celebrity has it. We are all in the trenches here. Some folks have gone into financial, emotional, physical, mental ruin over having breast cancer. Some folks have no insurance for treatment. Some have no family support. Some women have to work everyday through chemo. Feeling like pounded shit. Enduring stares of pity. Wondering how they are to explain to their children that mommy just wants to crawl under the covers. Trying to tell their partners/mates they only want to go to a dark room and cry. Explaining to their boss why they are still a vaulable employee even though they can't keep thier head off the desk or out of the trash can.
I know that anyone who must go through any kind of cancer is scared and hurting. There needs to be a cure, not a glamorization of it.

Peace Out




Come out upon my seas,
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure
Or am I part of the disease
-Coldplay

Home Sweet Home

I am home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After a week in the inferno known as Texas I am home where I belong. In the Northwest. It's raining and about 60 degrees. I belong here. Every molecule in my body tells me this. I am like a homing pigeon. My gps points me here. I was meant to live in rain. It just took me a while to get here. Now don't get me wrong a am a Texan. I will spit in your eye if you call me anything else.
I was a flight attendant in a former life and I have free tickets. Free meaning flying standby. Ugh the summer is a nightmare, the flights are full and it was not easy getting home yesterday. But here we are! We had a great time. The girls got to spend time with Poppa and Sittee. We celebrated my dad's birthday.
Now I am back in my nest with my guy. He tried being single guy for the week but to be honest, I think he missed his girls.
School starts in 3 weeks. I have a first grader. Holy Hanna when did that happen? She's already got her first day of school outfit picked out. A dress with jeans. What a hipster. What a fashionista.

Peace Out

Burning Off My Nose Hairs

Holy Inferno!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am in Texas seeing my folks and it's been freaking 105 all week. My nose hairs are singed. Hot hotter than hell. I HATE the heat. I completely hate it. My Father's birthday is in August and it always seems we are here to celebrate. August is the ass time of year hear in Dallas.
We can hardly go outside with out a heat stroke. If you get in a car after it has been in the sun your skin will melt off. I. AM. NOT. EXAGGERATING.
Country road take me home to my dreary rain and clouds. To the place I feel the most at home. I need my soggy ground squishing beneath my feet. Please please no sun for at least a week for recovery. Draw the blinds, pull up the covers.
GET ME OUTTA HERE!

Heat out

Contest

While taking to a friend of mine today, she was commenting how she'd love to hear stories about THE thing that our mates do that makes us homicidally insane. So crazy that you want to hoover over them in the middle of the night with a pillow.
Email me your stories. I would LOVE to hear them. I may blog about my own...
trixila@gmail.com


Peace out

Boobalapooza

It started with a dream and ended with some hang overs. Some of my home gurls and I went on a little vacation. We were in various states of dress and undress all weekend.
We all belong to a club we never wanted to join. Breast cancer survivors. So we make the best of it with lots of drinks and pharmaceuticals and tons of laughs.
We had a weekend with no work, no partners and no kids. I think it's safe to say we all had a blast, but we were ready to get home to our nests and plan the next trip.
As crazy as it seems, I would have never met these gals and their families if it weren't for that asshole cancer.
We made some great memories and wonderful bonds. I am gushing now.

Peace Out

Happy Birthday Rock Star

My baby turned 6! She of course says that she is no longer a baby. Six seems to fit her very well.
For her birthday she wanted a garden party. We planted flowers, ate PBJ's, had cake. Pictured is the cake she designed herself and all the flower we planted.
Happy birthday my little rock star!

I love you more than air,
Mommy

I Hurt My Paw

It's all cancer's fault.
Had I not had breast cancer and had to do a benefit to raise money to walk 60 miles, this would not have happened. I would not of had to dance my ass off and have fun. I would of been sitting on my couch on a Thursday night like any normal mom, with my tits still attached and my hair still long and 30 pounds lighter.
Oh but noooooooooooooooooooo
I had to go and raise money for breast cancer research and dance the night away with the most amazing women that I have ever met. CRAP!!!!!!!!!!
Damn you cancer!
I have to have my foot in a boot for 4 weeks and do crutches for 2 weeks.
I was the happiest girl at the doctors office today. Have you any idea how good it feels to go to the doc and cancer is not the reason?
I happily accept this broken foot. If that's the cross I have to bare then so be it. :)

Peace Out

It's Been a Long Time Since I Rock and Rolled

We put on quite the show. And I do not mean the music bands, I mean me and my merry band of drink swilling, cussing, brassy, almost going home with the po po, breast cancer survivor friends.
We are a scene. I guess after what we've been through we just throw all caution to the wind and show our asses.
It was so fun. So fun. Thanks to all who came out. If I said or did anything that offended anyone, well... I .... Um.....
Hope you had fun too!!!!!!!!!!!

Peace Out




Its been a long time since I rock and rolled,
Its been a long time since I did the stroll.
Ooh, let me get it back, let me get it back,
Let me get it back, baby, where I come from.
Its been a long time, been a long time,
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.
Yes it has.
-Led Zeppelin

Rock-N-Roll Fund Raiser

Dear Friends,
On June 26th, 2008, there is a fund raiser for my 3day Breast Cancer Walk team. One of the members of my team, Anna, and her husband have set this up. They are AWESOME!!!!
Anna's husband Kevin has gathered his band and some other local bands to play for the cause. The venue has also been donated!!!!
All we need now is folks to come and hear some good music and donate to a VERY important cause!
Below is all the info from our press release.
Please let me know if you have any questions.
If you would like to donate to my team directly or myself, please go to:


http://08.the3day.org/goto/mariaewing
http://08.the3day.org/goto/lickitysplits


As ALWAYS, thank you for all the support and love!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please pass this email to anyone you think would be interested!

Love, Peace, & Rock-N-Roll
Maria







Following is the actual press release. Please share our story and
the info about the show with EVERYONE you know. Thank you, thank you,
thank you.




CONCERT TO BE HELD AT HEAVEN NIGHTCLUB (FORMERLY THE CATWALK) TO RAISE
DONATIONS FOR THE "LICKETYSPLITS," A TEAM ASSEMBLED TO WALK AT THE
BREAST CANCER 3 DAY WALK BENEFITING SUSAN G. KOMEN FOR THE CURE

26 JUNE 2008

Featuring popular local rock bands, Trepan, The Second Academy, and others

Thousands of women and men come together, each raising at least $2,200
for Susan G. Komen for the Cure and the National Philanthropic Trust
Breast Cancer Fund. Then they take their commitment to end breast
cancer one step further and walk 60 miles over the course of three
days. Eighty-five percent of the net proceeds of this event go to
Susan G. Komen for the Cure. Every advancement in breast cancer
research, treatment, education and prevention in the last 25 years has
been touched by a Komen for the Cure grant. The remaining fifteen
percent of net funds goes to the National Philanthropic Trust Breast
Cancer Fund to provide a permanent endowment for ongoing support of
breast cancer initiatives.

The "Licketysplits" are a team of young women in their 30's and 40's.
It is a group made up of mothers, artists, newlyweds, and amateur
oncologists. A majority of this team are young breast cancer
survivors. These women are gathering from the four corners of the
United States, in alliance to help provide funds for breast cancer
research, and ultimately a cure. Young women CAN and DO get breast
cancer. While breast cancer in young women accounts for a small
percentage of all breast cancer cases, the impact of this disease is
widespread: over 11,100 young women will be diagnosed in the next
year. Please attend our benefit concert, listen to some great rock
music, and enjoy the ambiance and spirits of Heaven Nightclub.

Heaven Nightclub is located in the Pioneer District, at 172 S.
Washington, Seattle, WA 98104.

Doors open at 8:00pm. Show starts at 9:00pm. $5.00 cover charge, as
well as any donation you can make.

For additional information please call: 206-622-1863, or Kevin
Schumacher at 206-909-1322.

--
maria e w i n g
(.) (.) find a cure
www.boobalicious-trixila.blogspot.com

3day Breast Cancer Walk

Dear Friends and Family,

Yes, I'm doing it again - I signed up for the 2008 Breast Cancer 3-Day! I had such an incredible experience doing the 3-Day last year that I'm going back for more. I'm so excited about this event, even though this year I really know what I've gotten myself into.

It seems inadequate to try and explain the experience I had last year with words. I was on a rather large team and we had a blast, but there was a core group of us that really bonded.That core group is now going by the name The Lickity Splits. These girls are crazy and fun and passionate about life.

My girlfriend Jacqueline Reid flew up form Texas to walk with me. She will be with me again this year!

Anna Schumacher is completely insane and makes the best hats!

Kristin Haugen (kdawg) is a bruiser. I wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley! Darkly funny.

Courtney Fede is a sweety.

Carol Franco loves nachos and would do anything in the world for you.

Nicole Taylor is on her 5th year as a survivor. GO COLIE!

Angie Kemp is Anna's redneck cousin who is flying in from South Carolina is walk with us.

Diana DuVerger and Angela Rapp are flying all the way from Massachusetts to walk and support Kdawg.

Angela Cough is walking to support Anna.

I send this email to some of you whom I talk to frequently and to some I have not been in contact with for a while.
As most of you know in the summer of 2001 I found out I had a form of breast cancer called DCIS. It was noninvasive. I had it removed and also had radiation treatment. Clean and simple. I thought I was DONE!
For five years, I lived relatively worry free until this last summer of 2006. I found another lump in the same breast. Consequently, I had a double mastectomy and just finished chemotherapy on February 1, 2007. Now almost 2 years after surgery, I am DONE DONE DONE!!!!!!!!!!! Life is now gotten back to "normal" or should I say the new normal.
Here's my quest...
In September of 2007 I walked the Breast Cancer 3 day, 60 mile walk for a cure for breast cancer.
I raised almost $5,500.
ALL net profit went to the Susan G Komen fund. Money raised goes to the fight to find a cure and prevent breast cancer.
Here I am again asking for donations for the 2008 walk. It will take place in September.
I am not a fund raiser by any means. But this is important to me and anyone touched by this insidious disease.
Please consider any amount. It all goes to a good cause.
I walk for those who go before, with, and after me. I walk for my beautiful daughters. I walk to hold my grandchildren.
Please email or call me if you have any questions!! You can go to my webpage- http://08.the3day.org/goto/mariaewing
and donate.

This event isn't easy, but I promise you, I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't believe 100% that it was worth every muscle ache, weary night and training walk.

I need your help.

If you have any questions or want to hear more about what I'm doing, I love talking about the event. Thanks for all of your support. I'm incredibly lucky to have people like you in my life!

Love,
Maria


http://08.the3day.org/goto/mariaewing
http://08.the3day.org/goto/lickitysplits
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maria e w i n g
(.) (.) find a cure
www.boobalicious-trixila.blogspot.com

The UnGift

The other day we received a package at our home. There were books for my daughters in the package. I am reading one of the books to my girls and I see a sticker smack dab in the middle of a sentence. I think to myself, wow that's strange that there's a sticker blocking a word. Under further inspection, I lift the sticker and the word underneath it has been altered by the book sender. You could tell it was not a publisher error. The sender of the "gift" tried to alter a word and then covered it up with a sticker.
The word was HAM. As in ham sandwich. As in PORK. The other white meat.
I know for a fact, the sender of this"gift" does not eat HAM. I am pretty sure the sender doesn't want my children to eat it either. But seeing that they came out of my body, I will be the decision maker here. This is not to exclude their father, my partner. We all eat meat in our home and occasionally pork.
I do digress...
My question here is:
Is a gift really a gift when altered only to the senders liking? Wouldn't you just not buy the gift if there was something you didn't like about it? Are you sending it with a open heart when you change it?
This kind of shit makes me crazy. CCCCCRRRRRRAAAAAAAZZZZZYYYYYYYY
Aren't I as a parent the one to filter what my little sponges soak up?
It does no good to address the sender. They will never admit wrong doing. And yes, I think it was wrong to change the word then hide it. Maybe wrong isn't the right word...
Controlling
Weird
Freaky

Peace Out

The Funniest Damn Thing

This is a real Craigslist ad that some saw and sent to me. It hits home for me and I think it's hilarious. I didn't write it, but I sure could of.

Peace Out

A public service announcement: Please stop asking me if I'm pregnant.

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Date: 2008-03-30, 10:13AM PDT


I'm not.

I know that I seem to be more of child bearing age than cancer producing age, and I know that my newly flat chest due to a recent double mastectomy makes my belly protrude and makes me look preggers.

I'm not.

I know also that, despite eating healthfully and exercising a ton, the roids and the hormone therapy I've had the pleasure to experience are to thank for the nice round tummy growing before my eyes. Hell, even I tend to think I look pregnant.

But I'm not.

Yes, I realize too that I tend to wear a lot of empire waist and babydoll dresses these days, further adding to the "pregnant look". but frankly, since most of my pants hide in fear when I approach them in the closet, these dresses are a much better option.

I'm flattered that maybe you think I'm "glowing". I guess 25 rounds of radiation will do that.

But please, PLEASE, unless you see my water breaking, don't ask me "Is it a boy or a girl?". Um, it's tamoxifen, thanks for asking.

I don't want to have to blurt out the truth any more than you want to hear it. But frankly, I'm tired of trying to make you feel better about your dumb mistake. Now, I just answer, "NOPE. It's cancer. Bellies look bigger when you've had your breasts removed." Sorry. I know you're probably driving home feeling stupid. Good.

And of course, the irony that you'll never know, is that I probably won't EVER be pregnant, thanks to all this lovely crap.

Don't you know that you never, unless you're absolutely sure, ask a woman if she's pregnant? You just don't. Ok, maybe if she's got her legs up in the air, is panting like a race horse, and someone with a surgical mask is yelling "PUSH" at her. But even then, you should really be sure before you ask.

And for god's sake, please, please PLEASE don't pat my belly. It's just fat and it's really embarassing when you do that.

So unless you literally see a baby's head poking out of my vagina, please stop asking me if I'm pregnant.

I kicked cancer's ass. I can certainly kick yours.

Thanks.

PS - To be fair, I should mention that I am somewhat flattered that people think I might actually be having sex.

• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 624032499

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Copyright © 2008 craigslist, inc. terms of use privacy policy feedback forum

Shape Shifting

This blog is for Poppy, Popster, Popstar.

It feels like having tourettes. The feeling that at any given moment we want to blurt out something about cancer. My friend wants to tell folks in her office, at any given time, that her hair is short because of chemo. Some of us work in into conversations.
We aren't who we were, yet we aren't who we're going to be. The image of ourselves is shifting. Never staying in one place. We sometimes don't know what we want to be when we grow up anymore. Some of never really knew. Some of us did, but no longer want to be that.
When I go out now and I have my boobs on and my hair did, I look like every other or any other mom in my town. Driving a mini van with sweats on because I had to get up at 6 AM to work out because I have no time for myself during the day because I am taking my kids to soccer and gymnastics and playdates and the grocery store...
BITTER!!!!!!!!!!!!! Party of one, your table is now ready.
Anyhoo, I am no longer the bald freaky, eyebrowless lady at Target that gets sympathy stares.
You know what, I was a celebrity in my own right. The lady that has cancer with two small kids. The lady with a freezer full of frozen meals and people offering to babysit my kids.
Sometimes I am cancer victim, sometimes I am strong warrior, sometimes I am mom, sometimes I am partner, sometimes I am friend.
At the end of the day, I am still me, no matter how many times my shape has shifted.

Peace Out

Hypocrisy

Pronunciation:

\hi-ˈpä-krə-sē also hī-\

Function:

noun

Inflected Form(s):

plural hy·poc·ri·sies

Etymology:

Middle English ypocrisie, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin hypocrisis, from Greek hypokrisis act of playing a part on the stage, hypocrisy, from hypokrinesthai to answer, act on the stage, from hypo- + krinein to decide — more at certain

Date:

13th century

1: a feigning to be what one is not or to believe what one does not; especially : the false assumption of an appearance of virtue or religion2: an act or instance of hypocrisy

This word has been on my mind a lot lately. I have been rolling it around in my head. Like a marble in a jar, it keeps clanging on the side because it's the only thing in the jar. A few instances have come up in conversations for me this week that have led me to write about the subject.
We are all hypocrites in some form or another. Some folks more than others, some folks less.
I do not, for the most part write about my religious views on this blog. That's not the purpose of this blog is for me. BUT, big but here, I am going to mention a few views I have on religion, and how it makes me crazy that there are folks here on earth who think they have the right to tell others what to do.
I feel that hypocrisy and judgment go hand in hand. Christians seem to have the view at times that they have the upper hand with God on other Christians according to what day the go to church, or when the pray, how they pray, etc...
If I have this right, I think the whole gig is accepting Jesus as your Savior and asking forgiveness for your sins is deal. From what I hear, there was only one person ever on this earth that was not a sinner or hypocrite. Jesus Christ. If you are a Christian, that is what you believe.
My family and I have been attending a rockin' church for almost a year now. I love it. It's a great fit for ALL FOUR OF US. But do you know that someone had the audacity to ask my guy if he still believed in the Sabbath. (He was raised SDA) As if that was our barrier to salvation. Instead of being happy that we have found a church home and family, they were more concerned with their agenda. It blows my freakin mind. WOW! Do you have the bat line to God? Do you think he's pissed we're going to church on Sunday? Well, if he is, let's let him worry about that, not you.
This seems to be a constant in our lives. Nothing is ever good enough.
Stop, stop, stop the madness. The more people push up on me or my loved ones, the more I will push back. Now there's some anger you can judge! And I'll tell you what, it feels so good to get mad at something other than cancer. Honestly, cancer has ignored all my requests to go to hell.
I am a sinner. I am no more churchy than the next gal. I struggle, I get angry. I rebel against the forces of unfairness. I gossip, I cuss, I drink, I eat red meat. Pray for me if you think you need to.
But do not judge me for you are no better.

Peace Out

Ugly Stick

Dude,
I feel like I have been beat with an ugly stick.
I look like I fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.
UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
My hair is in a really funky way these days. Not to mention my entire body. I feel like a frickin mess.
This fro I got is not doing me any favors.
I am having some ugly days that are turning into weeks, that are turning into months.
Since when did I worry so much about my outward appearance? I feel like a train wreck. My hair and body betraying me. I was never the purdiest girl in the room nor did I howl at the moon. But these days I am looking like a before shot all the time.
Do I just not have enough to worry about (cancer) these days. so I focus on all the surface shit?


Peace Out

Fini

January 25, 2008. My last day of vitamin H. My last day of treatment. I am done. I am finished. I am happy. I am a bit scared. Flying without a net. I don't think I will really realize it until a couple of months have gone by and I didn't have to arrange child care and get my self to the hospital only to get a couple of hours of rest while I get juiced up.
And now I get to heal. For the first time in almost 18 months I will not be pumping any poison into my body. Hopefully all the swelling and weight gain and creaky joints will slowly dissipate and I can be my self again...what ever that is.
It has been such a busy time around our house. I have let my blogging go by the way side. I feel like all the holidays and birthdays are over and we can get back to a routine of some sort. There is comfort in routine.

Peace Out

Happy Birthday Wyatt

January 6, 2008. Wyatt's third birthday.
Happy Birthday my little piece of glitter.
You're a funny girl. You have an instant smile for those you meet every day. You're a great sister to Elliot.
I find it hard to believe that three years have gone by. I remember the day I found out I was pregnant with you. I knew that very instant that you were brought here to complete our family.
I love you more than air.

Mommy