...I was sitting in our family room when my mom called me to tell me her CT scan had shown a questionable lymph node. Charlie wanted something, Clara was clinging to me. I had been waiting for the call all day, anxiety building with each passing minute. I needed to check out, to listen to what my mom was saying. But I just couldn't, because I am Charlie and Clara's mom. And they need me. And they don't understand. And that is OK. It's the reality. I would be there for every doctor's appointment, every chemo round, every tear my mom cries, but I can't.
The reality is that I have two sick kids.
The reality is that I have a yard full of baby frogs. And a little boy who actually picks them up, as I scream when they hop near me (yes, I am terrified of a baby frog that measures, um, a half of an inch?):
The reality is that I still have pages I want to scrapbook, and that my last pages as a member of the Design Team at Studio Calico went up today:
The reality is that I'm starting to think about scrapbook pages I want to do, with no products I have to use, no deadlines. I'm already planning a bunch of pages about the Little House and did this one to kick it all off:
...the reality is that I have already cried five times while watching the Olympics and they've been on for less than 24 hours. I did not cry once during the Opening Ceremonies because I just don't get it.
...the reality is that it would be easy to get caught in the hole of, "life isn't fair." Because right now it doesn't feel fair. But I don't want to be that person. I will not be that person.