All you need is love

The boy has a lovey that he loves more than anything else in the whole entire world. It’s a stuffed lion, his name is Leo (as I so imaginatively named him), and he’s been the boy’s best friend in the whole entire universe since he was five months old. Now, as I have extensive experience in the matter, I bought the boy three Leo’s which we’ve been alternating for the past almost three years. Several months ago, however, he totally surprised us by not only being able to tell the Leos apart, he also had a “favorite”. “Favorite” Leo, soon became Leo di Nanna (Bedtime Leo) and was immediately pronounced housebound by yours truly. There was no way that I was going to let Bedtime Leo out of the house, if the Boy wouldn’t sleep without him, what if I lost him?

So the three Leos soon became one housebound Bedtime Leo and two interchangeable “Leo di Fuori” (Outside Leo). Whenever we go out, I am almost maniacally careful about Leo’s whereabouts, I practically check I have Leo before I check whether I’ve got the two kids in tow.  Well, last week I did the unimaginable. I lost one of the Outside Leos (losing Bedtime Leo would’ve resulted in my immediate suicide, or more likely matricide by the boy). I’ve looked for him everywhere. He’s gone. (sniff)

As was predictable, concurrently to the “Day of Great Tragedy” wherein I demonstrated my failure at being a good mother by losing one of my son’s favorite toys, the Girl started showing an interest in Outside Leo. (She’s not allowed near Bedtime Leo, no one is.)
I never managed to get the Girl to bond with a lovey, she decided early on that I was her lovey and no stuffed animal or soft blanket or even binky could replace me, so there. Anyway, now that she’s showing an interest in Outside Leo, I find myself in a bit of a bind, if Outside Leo is to be promoted to the position of the Girl’s Bedtime Leo, then I need to get more Leos to fill in the position of Outside Leos. Following?

Here’s where my life predictably complicates itself beyond what is acceptable for man or beast.  I went online and after much searching I found out the following: the store in Houston where I had bought Bedtime Leo, and successively, Outside Leos 1 and 2 has gone out of business; Ty, the company that produces Leo has discontinued the product; Leo sells used on ebay for $19.99; he sells new on amazon for $61.59 (yeah, I thought it was a typo when I read it the first time too); on another toy store website Leo sells new for $99.99 (so technically Amazon’s price is a total steal).

Oh, I also found out his official name is Ty Lux “Catnap” Lion and as one of the website put it, he’s “retired”. How cute. Now, I bought Outside Leo # 2 last year for $9.99, isn’t selling him for $61.59 a year later pure speculation? Are they just trying to bank off the needs of desperate mothers?? Thankfully Nana saved the day and a replacement Outside Leo is on it’s way to her house from Amazon and then it will be fed-exed across the pond to the waiting arms of her grandkids. No expense is too great for a doting grandmother.

But, I tell you, that Leo is staying in his original box, with all the tags attached until tragedy strikes and I lose another one of the original Leos. Because if I make it a few years with no major mishaps that baby’s being sold for like two hundred bucks.

I mean, seriously, how on earth can they sell a stuffed animal for that much money. As a friend suggested, I probably didn’t even lose Outside Leo, he's just been kidnapped. I’ll be on the lookout for a ransom note. 

Virtual Coffee {3}

Here we are, Tuesday, and it’s coffee time. No long preamble today, I’m going to jump right in. If we were really having coffee, I would tell you that my day got turned around this morning. You hear the tv in the background? Yeah, it’s Madagascar 2, again. The Boy is home with a temperature, not a high temperature, and he’s showing no other signs of illness, but still he won’t eat anything so I decided to keep him home and avoid the whole throwing up in the car scenario that would’ve inevitably ensued had I decided to take him to daycare.

We also decided to try and send the girl to daycare without him, needless to say that lots of drama followed. After several phone calls and two pretty severe crying bouts she seems to have calmed down, but I have to go get her early, so coffee will be brief. Sigh.

I would also tell you that coffee without my usual cookie, or cupcake, or banana bread just isn’t doing anything for me. Why I wasn’t born with an abnormally fast metabolism is simply beyond me. So here’s a picture of what I wish I were eating, if I hadn’t started the stupid diet yesterday.

I may possibly be spending altogether too many hours looking at food that I can’t eat. But enough crying over spilled chocolate, if we were having coffee today, I would ask you if you were reading anything good, cause I can’t seem to find anything that captures my fancy. Just so you know, I like series, nothing too sentimental, vampire stories are fine but nothing too gory cause ever since I had kids I can’t read or watch anything violent. I’ve become fainthearted! I’m just looking for something light and fun, possibly funny, ideally well written.

You want to know something shameful about me? Every single time I read, anything, whether it be a book, a blog, a magazine article, a newspaper, I edit in my mind. I edit punctuation (pretty arrogant of me, since you may have noticed my own punctuation is not exactly stellar), I rewrite sentences, I exchange words for synonyms I deem more fitting. I annoy the crap out of myself and yet I cannot stop. It’s a compulsion.

There, now your turn, do you have any thoroughly annoying habits even if you’re only annoying yourself?

Ok all done, see coffee with no treats makes for a poor and quick coffee indeed! Now go visit our hostess Amy, I’m sure she’s got something good to eat.

In the Zone

Recently I realized something astonishing: deciding I’m going to lose weight, thinking about losing weight, and angrily putting back clothes that don’t fit on their hangers is not actually helping me lose weight. Unbelievable, I know! I first started talking about this in October and again in November, it’s now practically April and I’ve managed to gain two more kilos. So my strategy was a resounding success.

At this point, I gave myself a long hard look (as I was trying to even out my eyebrows, cause honestly, who’s got time to just randomly stare in the mirror?) and decided to go to a nutritionist. Those who have known me for any number of years can now pick themselves up off the ground where they fell in total shock. Because, no matter how delusional I often am, at this point I cannot but face the fact that wishing myself skinny is just not having the desired effect. So, after much coaxing from my pilates instructor I saw the infamous (in Italy) Dr Gigliola Braga. She is basically Italy’s Zone diet Guru. I did not know this at the time I made the appointment. Had I known I never would have made the appointment, cause honestly, The Zone Diet has always freaked me out just a little bit.

But anyway, in my total ignorance I went and met this thoroughly delightful lady, who explained the diet to me so comprehensively and so enthusiastically that I honestly couldn’t wait to go home and start it. This happened Friday. Obviously, I spent the entire weekend drinking soda, eating cookies, croissants and starches, because despite all the talk about how balanced the diet is, even I was not deluded enough to think there would be a lot of chocolate chip cookie days. So Monday comes, and I’m all excited about my new diet. I sit down for breakfast and eagerly grab the list of foods I can eat for my two whole blocks (this is a zone thing, if you don’t know what it is, I envy you greatly!) at breakfast, and panic ensues.

It starts out fine, one 40g slice of whole wheat bread is two block of carbs, my green tea doesn’t count, I can eat a few nuts for the fats, but what the hell do I eat for two whole blocks of protein, in the morning? Oh, right, an egg. Ok all perfect, let me check the quantities again, weigh the slice of bread and off I go for breakfast. But then I’ve got to do it again at lunch, and snack, and dinner, and soon another snack before bed, and OMG this is driving me crazy! The counting, the weighing the endless consultation of the list, so tonight I realized why people lose weight on the Zone, they would just rather not eat than have to figure out what in the hell they’re allowed to eat and in what unholy combination.

I’ve been told it gets easier. At this point, I’m highly motivated to have it work because more than looking decent in a bikini this summer I really, really want to beat the Zone. I want to show the Zone that I can totally figure it out, I can tame it, in fact by the end of the week I will be so totally in the Zone that I will own the Zone.

Finally, a diet that appeals to my competitive side.

Buying Time

This week has been an emotional rollercoaster. Well, the whole month’s been an emotional rollercoaster, but this week we seem to have reached and descended from the highest peak. And nobody threw up. So, phew!

On Tuesday, which incidentally feels like it happened about three years ago rather than three days ago, the husband had a bone marrow biopsy. We spent Wednesday with bated breath, jumping every time the phone rang, waiting for the results, which were honestly neither hear nor there, neither fish nor fowl, neither… well, I could go on like this for a while, but I’ll spare you. Basically, the blast cells (i.e. crappy cancer cells) had increased, but by a relatively small percentage. The husband, who is undergoing an alternative treatment that I’m not going to get into now, but I will explain in detail in the near future (not trying to be cryptic, but we do have our reasons, so bear with us!) was hoping that the blasts had decreased. At the same time, we were having some strong doubts as to whether this alternative treatment had had enough time to actually be effective. After long discussions with his doctors, who obviously strongly advised him to start the treatment as planned on Thursday (24th), we decided to take a two-week hiatus and have another BM biopsy before starting the conventional treatment.

This decision was taken neither lightly nor recklessly. We are perfectly conscious of the fact that we have two small children and our first and foremost responsibility is towards them. That said, the rate at which these cells are multiplying suggest that in two weeks time they should/could have increased by about 10 – 15%, after much thought we decided that this calculated risk was acceptable.

When talking about cancer, alternative therapies can be considered a load of hooey, or not. I’m not going to get into this now, but I will say that both the husband and I strongly believe that when fighting an illness of this magnitude medicine will only get you so far. The patient’s attitude, his outlook, his optimism, his strength and desire to get better are just as, if not more, important than all the chemo in the world. So, for the naysayers, whom I wish to exhort now to please keep their opinions to themselves for the time being, let’s just say he’s taking these two weeks to spend some quality time with his wife and kids before being shut up in a sterile room for several months, and leave it at that. He is taking supplements, and he has changed his diet, he is resting, so that his body will be better prepared for the onslaught of chemicals that may come. He’s recharging his batteries, creating memories to cling to, and enjoying the start of spring, so that, if he does have to go through the conventional treatment, he will at least be more prepared physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Our belief is, of course, that he won’t have to go through the conventional treatment because, as I said, the mind is a powerful thing, and stranger things have happened. Prayers and positive thoughts and energy help too, so will be expecting loads of good vibes from our readers! ;-)

Virtual Coffee {2}

As I quite enjoyed having coffee with you last week, I’ve decided to give it another shot and, who knows, maybe I’ll get it together enough to do it weekly. After all, shouldn’t a girl get to have coffee with friends at least once a week?

Plus, I realized that it’s actually quite nice to have a coffee date where I get to direct the entire conversation. It’s a bit self-centered, sure, but hey, I’m a great conversationalist so, lucky you! Although, I’m not sure I want to delve too deeply into what it says about my mental health that I’m looking forward to having weekly pretend coffee with imaginary friends (or, you know, real friends who are nevertheless not actually here). In any case, here we are in front of our respective screens, me with my coffee, cream and sugar and you with… well, whatever you enjoy. 
So, if we were really having coffee today, I would tell you that it seems as though our schizophrenic weather has finally started taking its medication and it appears to have settled on spring as the season of choice. This makes us all very happy as we hope to be able to put the snow shovels away to be replaced by our lawnmower and fertilizer and new plants. I would admit, as you look at me skeptically, that no, I don’t actually take care of the yard myself, there’s a nice retired gentleman that does not have two plant assassins for hands who actually makes things grow quite beautifully.

I would tell you that we’re all longing to put our heavy down jackets away in their mothballs not to be looked at again for months, but I fear I’m jumping the gun a bit as it often snows in April here. So we’re just enjoying the balmy weather for now and not planning too far into the future. I would also tell you that this is our entire plan for now. Who knows what the future holds, because despite our best intentions life is all about uncertainty.

As I sip my coffee, the sun on my back from the slightly open window, I would tell you that I’m just trying to count my blessings for now, and there are many. In the end, despite all of our doubts and tribulations (I love that word!) life is truly a wonderful thing, at least, mine is, and I have to remind myself of this daily.

Though to be honest, I’m pretty irritated by the smell that’s coming from the open window, here let me shut it. Yes it does smell like cow shit. Why, you ask? Because it’s Spring dammit, and we live out in the country, and for the next month and a half none of us will be able to take a clear breath of fresh air cause everyone and their mother are going to be fertilizing their stupid fields. Poetic isn’t it?

Living with Leukemia. Part 6. Anger

Honestly, I was really hoping to be done with the whole Living with Leukemia series. I thought I would do a post in April about what life was like a year after the transplant and then I’d be able to forget the whole sad ordeal. Why is it that nothing ever goes according to plan?

So here we are again, talking about chemo and transplants and what not, and my strongest feeling right now is anger. I’m angry. I’m so royally pissed off that there are no words to describe it. And I don’t want to talk about it, which is why I’m writing about it.

So first things first, don’t ask me how we’re doing, and more than anything don’t ask me how the husband’s doing. We’ve got two blogs, we’ll be writing about it, I promise, but I cannot, I simply cannot spend another year talking about how he’s doing, how the chemo is making him feel like shit, speculating about what could or could not happen and what the next move is. Ask me how I am, ask me about the kids, but don’t expect me to talk about the cancer cause I just can’t. Sorry.

Now that I got that off my chest… we can move on to the anger and anxiety, which much like Jack and Jill, go hand in hand until they both go tumbling down.

As I mentioned in previous posts, I’m a little stressed. I’m stressed because life was finally going back to normal, the husband is feeling good again, he’s got energy, he can play with the kids, he goes to work, we were making plans for our future… And two weeks ago it literally came tumbling down. Because, and this is what nobody talks about as “it’s just not done”, when you’ve got a very resistant type of leukemia, you have a BM transplant after three rounds of extremely aggressive chemo and radiation therapy so strong that your body could not withstand another round, and the fucking leukemia comes back after less than a year the undertone to every single conversion with your doctor becomes if you survive.

This time around we know what we’re going to be going through, the husband knows exactly how shitty he’s going to feel, I have to watch him go through the whole damn process again, the kids won’t see him for at least a month and when he comes home he won’t have the strength and energy to be with us like he does now. And we don’t know how it’s going to go. Of course, we had no guarantees the first time around either, but then again the first time around we weren’t told, and I quote “if you had gone to another hospital they would have told you there was nothing else to do.”

So this is why I’m angry. Because after the year we just had shouldn’t we be given a break? I mean, really, fate or whatever else manages the events in our lives, the happiness and suffering allotted to us, couldn’t just have diverted its attention from us for a little while? Horrible things happen daily to all manner of people, just turn on the news. But I’m still mad. I just wanted to have a few years of calm, and planning for the future and raising our kids with no major drama. Is that really too much to expect?

Breathe

I can’t sleep. If I wake up at night, and I’m doing an awful lot of that cause the kids seem to have picked up on the tension and call me two or three times a night, I can’t go back to sleep. I think of all the things we could’ve done or should’ve done or need to do before the husband goes back into the hospital (sometime next week). 
Saturday we met up with some good friends from Milan. We decided to have a picnic at the beach. And I started stressing about it Friday. I hope it’s sunny, the husband needs some sun before he gets shut up in the sterile room, I hope the kids are good, he needs to relax, I hope everything goes well… Basically a recipe for disaster, I worked myself up to such a state of agitation that I spent the entire day feeling sick, my stomach in knots, angry at the weather for being crappy, wondering if maybe we should go somewhere else where it was more sunny, and generally not enjoying a minute of the outing.

All for absolutely no reason, cause I can’t control the weather and other people and the husband would probably have had a much more enjoyable time if his wife had been a little less neurotic and sleep deprived.

The fact is there’s a clock ticking above my head, counting down to Thursday or Friday when he has to be admitted in the hospital. The doctor’s keep moving the dates up, he was supposed to do the biopsy on Wednesday but now they’re saying Tuesday’s better and it’s driving me insane because I feel like there’s no time. It’s good that they’re on top of the ball, trying to get everything done as soon as possible, they’ve been telling us from the start how important it is to get in there as quickly as possible, but at the same time I want to say, no stop, we need more time why are you rushing like this, is there something you haven’t told us?

The husband turns to me, more and more often, and says:  breathe. Because apparently I hold my breath, constantly, like that will somehow stop time: oh, I’m not breathing hence time isn’t passing. Totally ridiculous, I know, and yet at times it’s just easier to not breathe.

Grammatical Pet Peeves

Just in case you needed more proof of how neurotic I am, I decided to occasionally post on something that drives me completely bananas: Bad Grammar. Now, I concede that my own grammar is not always perfect, I’m a victim to run on sentences like the majority of Italian speakers, but I do know what a run on sentence is. Sure, sometimes I make mistakes too, who doesn’t? I could certainly proofread more, but I believe I do have the basics of grammar and spelling down. Incidentally, a great proofreading tip I got back in my translating days was to change the font, size and even color of the draft often while proofreading, it helps the eye catch mistakes.

So, back to grammar et al. most of the time I mis-grammaticize on purpose, and I make up words on purpose, I know what I’m doing is wrong and I do it for a reason, even though often that reason is apparent only to me. Mostly I do it because I want the writing on my blog to be more colloquial, more spontaneous. So what on earth am I going on about?
 There are mistakes being made all over the ether that are neither justified nor voluntary, they are quite simply the result of bad grammar and laziness. And that’s what drives me nuts. (fragment) So occasionally I’ll post on one such error that particularly irritates me, thus exorcising it, so it no longer bothers me. In this manner I’m hoping to achieve the zen-like calm that appeals to me yet eludes me completely.

Today’s pet peeve is: WOULD OF. What you actually meant to write is WOULD HAVE, in fact word just went all apeshit on me trying to correct it. What I’m talking about here is the third conditional and you use it when you want to talk about something that could have happened, but didn’t, in the past. For example: If I had won the lottery, I would HAVE left my job. (You can use the contraction would've)

In any case, there is no reason on God’s green earth to write “would of”. Ever. So don’t, just don’t.

Gosh, I feel so much better now!

Stuff that drives me nuts

I am a creature of habit, when I become attached to something it stays with me for a really long time; case in point, I have a stuffed bunny that’s been sleeping in my bed for thirty-five years. I am a faithful consumer. If I like a product, I’ll keep buying it. I have the exact same gap t-shirt in 45 different colors, I’ll be very upset if they decide to stop producing it. 

I’ve been a loving and ardent windows user for most of my technological life. I remember when I got my first notebook, I was a junior in high school. I needed something to write essays and opted for a Toshiba notebook rather than a word processor (yes, I’m that old) this is how long I’ve been using windows, practically since before windows became “Windows”. Of course, I should have known something was amiss in my life because my very first computer was an apple, back when apple’s logo was cute and multicolored. I was ten years old, it was a desktop, it probably cost more than a car and had less functionality than a toaster. It used floppy disks. My brother and I used it solely to play a game based on the Olympics, all I remember is the characters were almost stick-like figures and you had to slalom down a ski slope, or throw javelins, or pole-vault, stuff like that. So this week, after being a faithful windows user for nigh on two decades, I have gone back to my roots and bought myself a MacBook Air. 

It’s light as, well, air (aptly named) and thin as paper (almost). It’s pretty user friendly and I’m not noticing any major differences or difficulties. I was already in love with the iphone and ipad so it seemed like a logical next step. I haven’t yet transferred everything from my pc, so I get to say a long and heartfelt goodbye. There is just one thing that consistently drives me bananas, the lack of a “canc” key. In place of the “canc” key they put the computers on/off key. I use the “canc” key A LOT, so I really miss it, and I see no earthly reason not to put it in. So, Steve, before stepping down, can you do something about that please? Cause I keep turning off my damn computer as I’m typing this. Thanks.

Virtual Coffee {1}

I’m trying something new today…. Amy over at Lucky number 13 has a weekly linkup called Virtual Coffee, and this week I decided to give it a shot. So for today, let’s pretend we’re meeting up for coffee…

If we were really having coffee today, I’d tell you that I’ve been so tired lately, though the kids are finally sleeping through the night most nights. I’d tell you that I think I’m tired all the time cause I can’t make my brain shut up for even five minutes. I’m always thinking, thinking, thinking but it’s like a dog chasing its tail cause I’m not getting anywhere. If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I just need to relax, but I don’t know how anymore. The anxiety is always there, the undercurrent of my life.

But then I’d shake it off, and I’d ask you how you like this banana bread I made today, it’s nice and moist isn’t it? The secret is to add sour cream, you know. And then we’d sip our coffee quietly for a minute and I’d start thinking that life is what it is and there’s no point in worrying about what may or may not happen, all we can do is live the life we’re given. If we were having coffee today, I’d ask you how you’re doing, what’s new with you? And you’d tell me about your life lately, even the unimportant things, because you know that sometimes we just need to be allowed to sit quietly and listen to others. And I’d finish my coffee, and reach for the pot and I’d let your voice soothe me as I start on my second cup.