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