eatthefrostingfirst

  I can’t sleep. It’s October 31st and ironically this day shares double meaning.  I guess triple meaning if you consider it’s Halloween. Meaning #1 is that this was the date that oldest and his twin brother, Zachary, were due.   Thanks to a shitty pregnancy and more complications than I care to discuss at 1AM, most of you know they arrived 3 months earlier.  The day always reminds me of what should have could have would have been.  It was a long time ago.  18 years to be exact. So the heartache definitely isn’t as raw but you don’t forget that you were supposed to have another child growing up in your house.  Meaning #2 is that 4 years ago I was recovering at Mass General from TRAM flap surgery.  (Taking fat from my stomach and making it into a breast) (Clearly phenomenal and a lot more complicated than that; but that’s the gist) I spent Halloween, 2017, dressed as a recovering cancer patient in a johnny that was 3 sizes too big for me, walking around with an IV pole attached.  Good

 Kristen Dahlgren, from NBC did a piece on the TODAY show this past week about life after breast cancer.  She said what I have been saying since I've first been around the block with this thing.  The hardest part is when it's done.  I know this seems incredibly difficult to understand. Our hair is growing back, surgeries are done, radiation burns have subsided; so explain to me the HARD part? This is when we, as "thrivers", have time to breathe. This is our time to exhale and look back at all that we went through and say HOLY SHIT.  It's not like we didn't say HOLY SHIT in the midst of it all.  Because we did. Often and perhaps multiple times a day.  But afterwards, when we have time to lie in bed and not gear up for our next treatment; we may cry. And maybe a lot. And maybe for days or weeks or months.  And maybe from time to time.  We look at our scars more.  We think back- a lot.  We ache from our meds.  We hate our meds. We hate our bodies for putting us t

  Things I’ve learned since being over the age of  50 1) Invest in a magnifying lighted mirror 2) Good supportive shoes are worth it,  so are supportive bras . 3) You’re a good judge of character.  And trust your gut.  4) You’re done trying to impress people. 5)You’ve turned into your mother. 6) You won’t ever use your china 7) You will always need a fan and a bottle of water near by  8) It’s really important to ask questions.  9) Generic Tylenol and Ibuprofen are as good as the real named brands. 10) You’ve stopped giving a shit about a lot of stuff 

  Wanna know how to feel old?  Go to a Patriots football game and be surrounded by drunk 20 somethings.  Then laugh your ass off remembering that this was (potentially/hypothetically ) you back in the hay day . Then go into full parental mode and hope that they aren’t getting behind the wheel of a car.  Then look at the kid vaping a few rows down and contemplate telling security (because it’s annoying as well as illegal. But more the fact that it’s annoying ) Relax. I didn’t tell.  As you stand in the 25 women deep line for the bathroom, commiserate with said 20 something year old how the guys bathroom line is never that long and then cringe when she tells her friend she had to take off her jacket because she didn’t want to look like a grandmother wearing a jacket to a PATS game.  Slowly move away so she doesn’t see you struggling to read your phone while waiting in said line;  because you forgot your glasses.  Listen to 20 something guys behind you drop f bombs every other word yet fe

   Since we are in the month of pinktober (also known as breast  cancer awareness month ) I thought I’d share a bit of what I’ve learned along the road. I often get asked “what do I say to my friend going through cancer”? I’ve mentioned this before but it bares repeating: Just listen.  Seriously, that’s all. We are scared and sad and angry and worried and anxious and everything in between. We know you mean well by telling us we are strong and can beat this - and yes; we are strong, but our strength often doesn’t beat cancer.  Because that would mean that the  ones that lose their lives to cancer - just aren’t strong enough.  And of course that’s ridiculous.  It’s why I’ve always hated the survivor word.  I did nothing to earn that word other than my body reacted differently than theirs. (And early detection. That; in fact, is the only way I accept being a survivor. Early detection can save lives) Just love us. And listen.  And let us cry if we must. And it’s okay if you don’t know wha

 These facebook memories are killing me. You know what I complained about 10 years ago? Required nightly reading?! OMG! Do you know what I wouldnt do to have required nightly reading be my biggest angst right now? So today I am here to tell you this... what seems horrific today, very well may not be horrific next year.  Or maybe even next month. Or tomorrow. We got through the nightly reading struggles.  Potty training stress?  Check. Kids now pee in toilets. 3rd grade recorder? I somehow survived 365 days of hot cross buns. I know in the moment it seems like you will never make it through but I'm here to tell you that you actually do. And so do your kids. And someday you will look back and laugh at yourself for thinking that school science fairs are your biggest family crises. So at the end of the day when you are pulling your hair out and crying alone in the bathroom and begging for a time when you can go out without needing a babysitter, just remember that  day will come ... and

I’m so angry I had to log on and vent to 552 of my closest village peeps. I blogged recently of a “pretty woman”moment I had in Charleston when a fancy boutique store didn’t acknowledge me. Perhaps it was because I was a sweaty mess non size 0 person but I walked away angry. Because this was not my first run in with snooty store people. I’m now here to tell you it happened to me again and I’m practically in tears: Because today I wasn’t a hot mess. I looked cute in Capri jeans and Birkenstock sandals. My hair was blown dry and I had on makeup and everything. And I lost 2 lbs and was feeling happy with myself. I was in a slightly snootier shopping area perhaps but walked into a store a friend had recently told me about. I entered said store and immediately knew I was in for it. Maybe it’s me feeling self conscious and my 18 year old self (25,35 and 53 year old self) came out thinking I’m not this skinny or glam for this store but i can walk where I please! I browsed anyway and was neve

  My first blog post ever published was on Scary Mommy.  My kids were much younger- maybe 8ish- and I wrote about how I was dreading summer vacation.  They had been out of school only a couple of days and were already driving me bonkers.   I joked about needing a glass of wine and how I don’t understand the people who look forward to summer. I got reamed out on social media. REAMED. I was devastated.  People called me an alcoholic and an unfit mother. How could I possibly not want to spend summer vacation with my kiddos?  Lesson learned. 1) My kids were young and I was blogging about them without permission.  Although I didn’t write anything hurtful - I don’t know how they would perceive it years to come. And as we know- once out in the internet; always out there.  Thankfully my kids are fine with what I wrote but I always now ask them for permission to post about them. 2) I’m bi-lingual. I speak fluent English as well as fluent sarcasm. Apparently this is hard to understand through th

 My Facebook memory popped up today about me not understanding 6th grade math.  That kids is now junior in HS now and taking physics  there’s not a word I understood while looking at his homework.  Not. A. Word. So just to give everyone a holy shit moment today.. There actually does come a time when your kid may know more than you.

   If you’re following along you know that oldest is a senior in hs.  There is no right path that he needs to follow but his wish and hope is to go to college so that means in a year from now, he will not be sleeping  in the room down the hall from me.  If I think about this for any amount of time I admit, I get a little ill.  I wish my mom was around to ask how she managed this. I come from a line of worriers so I’m sure this crossed her mind once or a thousand times.  Actually, she used to tell me her biggest fear was that I would get roped into joining a cult.  Which is somewhat humorous because cults weren’t known around my neck of the woods. She meant, however, that she felt I was susceptible to being a follower. And that was a realistic fear to be honest because I wasn’t very self confident at the time.  So the fact that I will not know what my kid is doing every day feels foreign. Im sure I’ll get used to this but it will be new territory. A new chapter. I’ve spoken to parents

 Oh hey ,  Good morning pinktober. I hate the color pink. It makes me look pale.  But it's everywhere this month and therefore a sign to remind us all- check your breasts. As I've said many a time, I dont need October to remind me; but maybe you do.  And if that's the case; then I'm all for pinktober.  However, I cant stand the pink paraphanelia that they sell thinking your saving breast cancer patients.  It's not. Research saves breast cancer patients so if you're going to donate; donate wisely. That being said, I am now 4 years out from my second cancer diagnoses which means 365 more days on the damn cancer pills.  Which also means I have now been a NEDer for 4 years (no evidence of disease). If it's your first time around here (welcome!) but you will learn I hate the term survivor.   Why? Because I survived but that means others didnt. I did nothing less than they did other than have less invasive cancer.  Their green smoothies and vegan diet did not save