So it's my last week before another round of chemo, and I'm on the tail end of the recovery from my last round, which means ... feeling not too bad. Just tired sometimes, but the mouth sores are gone, and my appetite is back. And I'm getting used to having no hair. (Got it all shaved off last Saturday so I could really get started on the wigs, scarves, hats, etc.)
I did a lot of ordinary things this week. Went to the mall with the boys and our nanny to buy some summer clothes and pajamas for Daniel. I hadn't been to a mall since January. It was almost like old times, except it was a double stroller this time. And I was walking with a cane and wearing a wig and didn't feel quite like the other mall moms. (Did I ever?) But still. It was fun to buy a coffee at Caribou and walk around looking at baby clothes.
Got a bikini wax for the first time since before Ben was born. Because, no, not all the hair is falling out. I broke down crying when I told Anne Marie about my cancer, though. I've been going to her for years — longer than I've known Steve, I think. She's seen me through quite a few life changes.
Spent a lot of time sitting outside on the front steps watching Daniel play. It's been so sunny — I'd be crazy not to take advantage of the nice weather. Some friends came over today, and we sat out there for a little while and watched our boys play with scooters and toy dump trucks and rocks and dirt and other boy things. Thanks to some babysitting help Sunday, Steve and I got to go to the garden store and buy some annuals to fill spaces in our perennial gardens. So now I go for little walks around the yard to see how everything is growing. My hip has been hurting a lot more this week, though. I don't know if I overdid the mall walking or if the fracture is getting worse or if the cancer is coming back in. I just don't know.
Made some leek and potato soup and added bacon this time. Not too bad.
Ben laughed for the first time this week. It's like an enhanced coo with a big wide smile. He just takes an extra breath in, and there it is — the sweetest giggle in the world!
Daniel does not like bugs. A large fly got into the house the other day, and Daniel freaked out when it got too close to his head. Freaked out big time — Steve said his face reminded him of the picture of the little Cuban boy, Elián González, when the troops stormed his relatives' house in Miami and pulled him out of the closet. The same thing happened the next day when he saw a big ant. Our nanny said he screamed and ran to her and would not let go. Later, when I was putting Daniel down for his nap, he was lying there looking at the ceiling, and he turned to me and said, "Ant." (He pronounced it with a British accent — "ont." Just like he says "Amelie" when he says my name. So cute!) Then, when I asked him what happened with the ant, "Finger. Window." The most I can gather was that he saw an ant on his finger, freaked out and shook his hand and knocked the ant onto the window, which is where it was when the nanny found it (and disposed of it). Poor little boy. He's so sensitive. I don't blame him, though; I hate ants.