Sounds Like Tomatoes

Keyboard Confessions: the for old times sake edition

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Fri, 15 Nov 2013 17:02:00 +0000

Once upon a time, I used to write these inane and random lists. It was super fun and therapeutic and then life got busy and I lost my blog mojo so I stopped. Today, I'm picking it back up again.

1. I prefer to only wear fun socks. Fun = patterned and wild
2. I haven't touched up my toenail polish in about two months. They are pretty manky looking. However, I wear fun socks so no one knows.
3. The lady at the post office knows me now, or really she knows my "That's Sew Rad" return address label thingies. I feel sort of famousy.
4. Today in homeschool, it's "Home Ec" day, meaning my kids are doing thorough cleaning. You know what? Fractions and finding prepositions can wait. These kids need to learn how to properly vacuum and clean the toilet. Priorities, people.
5. We went to the library and checked out huge stacks of books. My first thought was: how much cash do I have in my wallet to cover the late fees because inevitably, we will lose track of one or two of these.
6. My library is run by thuggy women. Like, they might have shanks in their pockets. They look like they've spent some time in the slammer. It is, after all, Durham.
7. I've given up on giving up Diet Coke. I just don't care anymore, people. Probably you don't care to hear my attempts to give up Liquid Nectar either.
8. I've decided to make peace with dust. It can come and live in my house, I won't mess with it. There's just way more important stuff to do. Also, see #4.
9. My girls received Rainbow Looms from their favorite person. That means there are rubber bands ALL OVER THE PLACE.
10. Also, they've both given me about 14 rainbow loom bracelets. It kind of make me miss jelly bands. And Keds.

Peace out.

I've been making stuff that's sew rad!!

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Fri, 28 Jun 2013 14:07:00 +0000

Ok, so, mildly cheesy blog title. Also the name of my new shop! That's Sew Rad. After all these months, nay- YEARS of saying I'd open an etsy shop, I've finally done it.

It all started with this guy:

It's a camper toaster cover (hence why there is a toaster in the picture) and it's super swell! Definitely a conversation piece. Can be customized for a variety of colors.

There's also these:

iPad sleeves, which are super fun, and continues with the whole camper theme. As if just carrying an iPad around doesn't make you the envy of passersby, this sleeve is guaranteed to make them EVEN MORE JEALOUS. And isn't that the point? No? Hmm. Also can be customized to a variety of colors.

And for those who aren't keen on making ostentatious gestures such as having large campers resting on their countertops, or carrying them around so that others will be jealous, I've got these:

Camper keychains, which are so sweet. Perfectly sized, lightweight. Very fun way to tell the world "THESE ARE MY KEYS." Twelve different colors to choose from. Great gift idea, even if it's just a gift for yourself! To view them, visit my shop!

Addie

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 10:00:00 +0000

Today is my baby's birthday. She's not a baby anymore, as she so huffily reminds me. But, as you parents understand, she's my baby. And today she is 9. She's a sassy britches. She's scary smart. She's also scary air headed at the same time. She's stinking hilarious. She writes stories. She writes songs. Soon, she'll be asking for her own blog and wow everyone with her brilliance and wit. She got it all from her mom, of course.

Anyways, eons ago, I wrote this post when she turned four. And even though that was five years ago, I can't improve on this story. It's all for her. So, without further ado, this is the birth of Addie.

******

It was a quiet night, when suddenly I was awake, gripping my bulging belly.

“I think I’m in labor!” I cried to Lance. I glanced at the clock. A red 3:30 glared at me. I laboriously made my way out of the bed to the phone and called the hospital.

“What do I do?” I asked the nurse. “I’ve never been in natural labor.” I listened to her advice and after thanking her, I hung up. Turning to Lance I repeated what she said.

“I should take some Tylenol and a bath, but since I hate baths I think I’ll take a shower and then I’m going to do the dishes and vacuum the floor.” Lance blinked groggily at me.

“You’re going to what?”

“Shower, dishes, floor.” I was determined as all psycho nesting mothers are.

So after a shower, I washed the dishes and Lance vaccuumed the floor. We sat and timed my contractions. They were only 8 minutes apart, but the pain was getting worse.

Lance called his parents around 5:00 a.m. “You’d better come on, it looks like the baby will be here soon.”

Lance convinced me to lay down again, assuring me the house was clean enough for company. I managed to nap between contractions but the pain was so intense that I had to get up on my hands and knees and breathe through the contractions. My main fear was not getting an epidural.

I convinced Lance to call a lady in our church to come over and stay with Emma so we could go to the hospital. The pain was now taking my breath away. That epidural was my prize now. Sally, a church member, arrived at 7:15 and after showing her Emma’s clothes, breakfast and other pertinent items, we made our way to the car.

I had fancied a Bojangles biscuit before heading to the hospital, but the four times I had to stop my tour of the kitchen with Sally to get on my hands and knees and breathe convinced me to head to the hospital NOW.

We made our way to the delivery ward with me in a wheelchair and my pillow, suitcase and video camera all perched precariously next to my bulging belly contracting all the while. Passing by the Admitting desk, the clerk took one look at me and said, “Go on, honey. Daddy can come back down and fill out the paperwork.” I grunted out a thanks and we were off again.

We made it up to the tiny labor ward and the two nurses sighed as they saw us. Apparently, there were four other women in labor and only the two of them. I glanced at my watch. 7:30 a.m. Lance went to finish my admittance paperwork while I slowly got undressed and put on the sexy gown the nurse handed me. I think I asked her at least four times if I could have an epidural now, please. She called my doctor as the other nurse checked my dilation. I was now dilated 5 centimeters. The nurse on the phone said my doctor was on his way, and that the blessed anesthesiologist was also on his way, that he would be here within the hour. It was now 8:00 and Lance hurriedly rushed into the room. I will never ever ever forget the expression on his face as the nurses checked me again and said, “We have no time for an epidural because you are at a 10 and you need to push.”

I vaguely remember crying, because the idea of natural labor terrified me. I had never prepared for that, never wanted that, didn’t take the stupid classes that taught me how to breathe. This was just all wrong.

The meaner of the two nurses approached me and got right in my face. She told me that she was going to help me bring this baby into the world and would tell me what to do. I think I apologized for the way my breath smelled, I can’t quite remember. But I do know that she was mean and bossy enough to tell me when to breathe and as she was being mean and bossy, the other nurse was getting the room ready for our little girl. We kept glancing at the door, hoping my doctor was going to be there, but it was just us.

Suddenly I felt, horror of horrors, that I was going to poop on myself, the fear of all laboring women. I said, “Um, I think something’s happening…” and suddenly I felt the hot splash of my water breaking.

The next moment, I felt the need to push like never before. My child’s head shot out and the nurses were shouting to me to NOT push. I remember asking, “HOW DO YOU NOT PUSH?!” They said, “Pant like a dog!” So I panted like a dog. I do remember glancing up at Lance who had his mouth hanging open and eyes as big as saucers and shouting “DO SOMETHING!” Poor Lance.

I looked up at that ceiling and panted like a dog. Occasionally animal sounds came out of my mouth and I just HAD to push, y'all ladies know. Finally after this went on FOREVER the nurse said, “Ok, you can push.” And my doctor walked in.

One push later, a squirming, icky baby emerged, much to my relief.

It was 8:32 a.m. and Adelyn Morgan Murphy had just breathed for the first time.

She was a honkin huge baby. 8 lbs 11 ozs. 21 inches long. All natural, not one bit of drugs, not counting the Tylenol from the dingbat nurse who told me that would help.

Addie is now four today. She is the funniest, blondest, wiriest, sweetest, most ornery kid there is. She can make you laugh, make you pull your hair out, make you sit and cuddle with her and try to mentally burn in the moments when she wraps her arms around your neck and squeezes.

This morning she got out of bed, padded her way across the room to me and tugged on my shirt. “Mama, is it my birthday?” she asked in her raspy morning voice.

I scooped her up, squeezed her tight and said “Yes.”

******

Is it too late to diet?

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 17:59:00 +0000

We're going on a cruise!!

I've never been on a cruise.

I mean, I know people who've been on cruises.

They say they're fun.

I'm hoping I'll be feeling like this:

But because I know me so well, I'm probably going to be like this:

In any case, we're going a cruise and I'm just now starting to pack. Also, I probably should have tried on all my clothes before this week. Oops. I'm hoping the Bahamians, er, Bahamites, um, Bahamamicians won't point and laugh as I walk by. Surely I won't be the only white girl walking by looking like a busted open can of biscuits.

Also, to make things even more complicated, I've begun no-pooing. Not that poo. I'm still a big fan of that. What I mean is only using conditioner when I shower to help my curlz do their thang without...whatever shampoo has to offer. Or something. It can't get any worse, people, so why not try this? Also, I'll let you know when I've come back from the Capitol of Humidity and if I looked like a clown.

Peace out.

Brussels sprouts...the candy of vegetables

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 28 Jan 2013 20:43:00 +0000

So recently The Hubs and I have been keeping a keen eye on our health. Because when we dress in the mornings (or, um, mid afternoons in my case) and we see this great big sack of sludge hanging over our jeans, well, it gets a bit depressing. And whilst we've partaken in just about any and all means of dieting, frankly, we're gluttons and cast the whole endeavor aside so we can enjoy or cake and bacon in peace. Mmm...cake. Anyways, we decided to keep a food log and watch calories. What a drag! you say. I know, my sympathetic friends, it is quite the drag.

Thankfully, we've been using an app on our iPrecious called Lose It, which is a place to log any and all food and drink items so you can see at the end of the day ~~what a fatty you are~~ what you've ingested. It's very handy, this app, very easy to use. You can search for foods found in grocery stores and most restaurants. You can even scan in the bar code on the box or bag your food is in and it will log the calories/serving sizes in your phone. Easy peasy mac and cheesy! Also, you can log exercise, but, um, I've not used this feature too often. Ahem.

This past weekend, Hubs really craved red meat so he bought us some good steaks and marinated those bad boys for a whole day. It was my job to come up with a side item. However. As we had dined at Five Guys earlier in the day I only had a select amount left for my calorie availability left. What was a hungry girl to do?

Enter Brussels sprouts.

Little, dainty, cabbage like veggies. Can be boiled, roasted, steamed or raw. But raw is just ick. Probably there are a billion ways to prepare these guys, but I decided to roast them.

First I washed well. Peeled the outer layer. Cut off tough stem section. Chopped in half. Placed on foil lined cookie sheet and doused with olive oil. Sprinkled with salt n peppa. Placed in 400* oven. Cooked for 15 minutes.

THEY WERE AMAZEBALLS, PEOPLE.

My husband was a bit offended as we ate. We did not rave at his delectable steak with pink oozy juice flooding our plates, speckled with Really Good Meat Seasonings and Such. Nay. Instead, we all sang the praises of our Brussels sprouts. At one point, I raised my arms in a Victory V, in celebration of this tasty masterpiece.

For real, y'all. They were awesome.

Did I get a picture? Heck, no. I was too busy stuffing my face.

In the immortal words of Dr. Dre...WE OUT.

P.S. If you're here visiting from my buddy and pal, Lemonade Makin' Mama- Welcome! Also, I'd offer you some Brussels sprouts but guess what? I ATE THEM ALL.

Oh, I have a blog?

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Sat, 12 Jan 2013 18:31:00 +0000

I'm just going to jump into writing this and act like I haven't ignored this blog for like 17 years, k?

It's Saturday and I'm here in the Apple store, waiting on certain persons (read: my husband) to away with me to the food court to eat convenient and fatty foods with our offspring. To pass the time whilst I wait, howsabout I write you a little bitty list? You know, for old time's sake.

Keyboard Confessions: The My Nails are Really Long and it's Hard to Type Edition

1. It's quite possible that I didn't capitalize something and/or capitilatized something I shouldn't've in that last sentence. So glad I homeschool. I want my kids to lurn guud.

2. I had "the talk" with my daughter last night. I wonder if it helped and/or didn't help that I laughed for most of it. I suppose we'll find out in about thirty years when she's in therapy.

3. But dude. Her face. Reacting to what I was saying. How could I not laugh?

4. Thankfully, she still thinks it's utterly gross and icky and why on earth would anyone do that ever?

5. I'm going to keep her away from HBO, MTV and some of ABC Family for as long as I possibly can.

6. So this summer my high school class will have its 20 year reunion. Firstly, I shall try var hard not to think about how old that makes me and I'm quite possibly in the middle of my life and the depression sinks me down which is surely why I've lost a half an inch according to the doctor on my last checkup. Secondly, I had a panic attack.

7. When one has a panic attack, clearly the best idea is to crack open your yearbook and stare obsessively at what you used to look like and pine for the days when you thought you were "fat".

8. But one bonus- I found a friend whom I have looked around the innernets for years. Who? Whom? Homeschool mom strikes again. Anyways. I stalked her and found her and now we are emailing. It's the little things, people. Also, I'm quite sure that is what other stalkers say to prod on their stalkery behavior.

9. Then, I jumped to here on my blog and read just about every post that these fingers have written and tried to read them through the eyes of peeps I went to high school with and I came to these conclusions:

a) I am drowning in so many colloquials that my 12th grade English teacher would flunk me after reading just three posts. Alas and that sucks. Also, Macbeth is rad. (I wrote that in a paper once. Yes, I did.)

b) I talk way too much about having nostril hair problems. Seriously. Also, I found itty bitty scissors that help with this affliction. So. You fine readers are spared of future nostril hair malady and affliction posts.

c) I talk an awful lot about this mystery novel that I am penning. But really, it just sits here on my computer and I am convinced that all my talk about it keeps me from writing. It's a theory, people. Quite as convincing as the lunar landing being a hoax.

d) I am way over Twilight and Party in the USA but I bet no one would believe me if I said it.

10. I recently went to Walmart, aka Fashion Central, and my oldest daughter told me quite plainly that my headband looked terrible and it would be better for me to take it off and I would just blend in with the people around me.

11. Serious question- have the Hollywood Movie Maker People run out of ideas for movies and that is why we must endure their endless remakes? Just curious.

12. If I stand up really tall then my belly kind of sucks in. I bet you can't guess how I'm standing right now.

13. I just got a weird look from an Apple worker. You don't know my life, lady! Also, I like your intentionally mussy hair.

14. Man I forgot how hard it was to come up with random thoughts that don't include things like, where's the bathroom and I'm hungry.

15. This blog is clearly for the Thinking Man.

16. I suppose it is frivolous that I am proud that my kids know and sing all my indie rock playlist.

17. Or, am I doing them an important service for when they are adults raising children of their own? Yes. That.

18. My husband is so hairy he makes the sheets have lint balls all over his side. Guess which side I placed on my bed when I washed and dried the sheets?

19. I complained. Then we placed them on the bed upside down. Yeah there's a tag flapping near my head, but, no lint balls.

20. Ingenius? That's why I homeskool.

Have an amazing weekend.

Keyboard Nonsense

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 15:28:00 +0000

Once upon a time, I used to write these lists. Sometimes they were confessions, mostly they were just inane nonsense.

1. We put the comforter in our duvet. So, clearly we are ready for fall. Us + squishy duvet = like being in the womb again.

2. I've decided I'm tired of pumpkiny things. I know, that's practically blasphemous as I just said we are ready for fall. Me + pumpkiny things = overrated, like the Twilight books.

3. I'm almost done with the X Files. Mulder is gone now, idk where he went except I miss his nose and those steamy bedroom eyes he's always making at Scully. Mulder + Scully = should just get married already.

4. Quite frankly, I'm tired of watching the X Files, but I'm sticking with it because I will be disappointed with myself for giving up on the last season. Also, it's quite possible my life is utterly boring and meaningless when I'm not gainfully employed. Me + no job = Netflix watching blob snuggled under the duvet.

5. I've learned that my children are complete opposites whilst homeschooling. For instance, we wrote a letter to a pen pal recently and it went something like this:

Emma: How little can I write and it still be a letter? What if I just draw a really big picture of a key at the bottom?

Addie: Do you think these five pages are enough? Gosh, I should add another page, there's nineteen more questions I want to ask. Do you think this girl will be my best friend?

End scene. Emma + school work = meh. Addie + school work = asks for extra assignments.

6. Also, one day I had them write haikus. They thought it was the most pointless exercise in the world. Clearly they are not my children. Haikus + my kids = alien language. Kearsie + haikus = daily talk.

7. Today in school, we will watch the old cartoony version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Because I just read it aloud to them. And we're about to finish The Secret Garden, so we'll watch that, too. School + movies = awesomeness with a side of amazing.

8. I found all my Edward dolls yesterday. And inspiration struck, yet I just couldn't bring myself to bust out the camera and blog the inspiration. Inspiration + laziness = blog death.

9. I tried to help my nephew with Algebra II a week ago. Which pretty much meant I looked at his homework, let my eyes glaze over and then I pointed him toward youtube, where you can find anything. Kearsie + maths = it's not like riding a bike.

10. Man. This duvet is so comfy. It's really hard to bring myself to get out of bed. Duvet + comforter = bed glue.

10-11-12

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Thu, 11 Oct 2012 22:22:00 +0000

That is today's date. You're welcome for pointing out the obvious. I aim to be helpful.

For fun, here are 12 random things, for your eyeballs' enjoyment. Eyeball's? Eyeballs's? Whatever.

1. If I'm really lucky, my daughter will break ALL my dishes.

2. Today I discovered that a butternut squash smells just like a watermelon on the inside.

3. Just down the road from Chez Murphy is a gourmet cupcake shop. Not good, people. Not good.

4. It is not lost on me that the words "milkshake" and "mistake" are similar. Yes they are. And thus, I had a mistake. This is recycled from my fb. I am a responsible recycler.

5. I look more and more Hobbity as the days pass. Soon, I shall make my trek to Mordor, in search of reliable hair care products.

6. For Christmas, I made some really awesome things for certain folks for gifts. But guess what? I can't tell you because some people reading this will be like, Ooh! That's for me! And then when Christmas rolls around they will get something like a knitted scarf and be like, this is lame.

7. So I'll tell you alllll about it in January.

8. For reason undetected, I began watching the X Files on Netflix. All nine hundred bajillion seasons. I'm on season 7 now and all I can think is, will you two just kiss already? Geez.

9. Also, I'm fairly certain that watching the X Files is really just a documentary on the evolution of the cell phone.

10. Also, I'm fairly certain you could make watching the X Files a drinking game. Take a drink whenever Scully asks "You ok, Mulder?" Take another drink every time Mulder uses the words "X File" or "paranormal". I could go on. But I shall not.

11. I sure am glad I chose to homeschool my two children. That way, I get to listen to them fight all day long, as opposed to just the evening. This was also a recycled fb status.

12. I do like being a responsible recycler.

Ch-ch-ch-chia!

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 27 Aug 2012 01:45:00 +0000

Normally I eschew the front side of the camera, but today I asked my awesome Hubs to snap a quick pic of me so you fine readers can see the difference a year makes. Also, I was a wee bit proud that I could finally fit into this shirt again. So clearly I had to document it.

Today my Hubs called me sexy, so, I must've stopped looking like Screech from Saved By the Bell.

Rock on.

Once upon a time...

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 20 Aug 2012 18:19:00 +0000

...there lived a girl with responsibilities. Laundry to wash. Floors to mop. Fresh veggies to chop for that night's supper.

And then she was introduced to Doctor Who.

And she could've cared less about laundry, mopping or fresh veggies.

Excuse me whilst I head back to Netflix.

Reporting live from Durham, NC

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Tue, 07 Aug 2012 15:13:00 +0000

WHAAAAAAT?

You heard me, folks! Assuming there are plural amounts of people reading this!

We are now living in the Carolinas. Specifically of the Northern variety. Also, I haven't had to use a switchblade yet living here in Durham. So.

Let me back up a bit. *insert loud beeping sound reminiscent of large trucks in reverse*

See, the Hubs and I were discussing life and such in late March. And we decided that our time in the Colorados was at an end and that my Hubs' brain needed more info to cram into it and such. And that we should move back to the area with which his scholastic career began- er, continued, which is here in NC. He will pursue his PhD and such. So we began the process of sifting through the earthly possessions we, erm, possessed, and gave away/got rid of/burned in a bonfire of magnificent proportions most of those aforesaid earthly possessions. Also, the aforementioned bonfire did not, in fact, exist. Except in my mind. For I think that arson would've made this whole packing thing way easier.

We purged. Not that kind of purging. The Hoarders kind. It was tough. It was cleansing. I even gave away the first blanket I ever made my daughter. We also donated an entire trunkful of books to the Human Society thrift store. I think they shed a tear or two.

It was tough. Yet we pressed on, and packed many a box of books and clothing and myriads of stuffed animals that my daughters could not part with. And we shoved all those aforesaid boxes into a small Uhaul and we began the trek across country to our future home in NC.

Perhaps I should mention that we had not exactly found a place to live yet. Because we are Chez Murphy and that's how we roll. But my sister in law kindly opened her home to us and after three var var longish days of sitting behind the wheel of my car, staring at the back of Lance's Uhaul, singing each and every song listed in my iPrecious, we found our way here.

Might I also just mention that I have clown hair here in the NC? Yes. I am considering dying it so that I have a polka dot afro. I feel it is culturally relevant to our times. I had forgotten about the humidity here.

And so, after a brief beach interlude with our entire family, we trekked back to Durham and hobbled and minced our way to many apartment homes (hobbling and mincing because of a dreadful sunburn), and finally, we found our home. It is a town home. And while some areas smell suspiciously of cat pee, we have deposited our meager possessions and spread them around.

Then we went to IKEA.

That is a post all by itself.

My entryway is littered with piles of cardboard.

I think I shall stop there. For now.

Shakes dust off my blog

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Wed, 06 Jun 2012 23:51:00 +0000

Let us see. What all has happened since we last chatted? Let me make a list.

1. I finished my breast reconstruction. Yay! No more visits to the plastic surgeon! I'm all done! Also, they told me I'd be all best buddies with them by the end of this process and you know what? They were right.

2. What was the final step, you ask? Tattoos. Strategically placed tattoos. Also, I trolled the googles for an image of nipples on a Barbie. I had to bleach my eyes. I might never recover. You'll just have to imagine it, kind reader. Also, I begged her for stars. Nay. Just regular circles.

3. In preparations for these certain tattoos, I decided on a huge life changing decision. And that was...to get a real tattoo first.

4. Therefore, it was on Sunday I went to my local tattoo parlor (that was highly recommended) and was inked by a young artist. And it is thus:

5. It's little pieces of dandelion fluff, in case you're looking at saying "Huh?"

6. No, it did not hurt.

7. So, that was on Sunday. Then Monday I got my other two tattoos. I feel pretty bada$$. But not bada$$ enough to type bada$$ without the $$.

8. My hair? Today I look like Richard Simmons. Like this:

9. Not even kidding. I might have to start looking for some Afrosheen. And a pick.

10. I am now home with my kiddos for the summer. Guess what? I don't do much here except read and wash the occasional underwears. I accept my laziness and embrace it. *yawn*

11. Also, it's good to make children work, no? Also, please tell me I didn't complain as much as they do when I was their age.

12. I am purging my home. And when I am done, I shall ~~burn~~ give away or sell the pile. Also, I think arson is a perfectly acceptable choice.

13. Also, I am going to place some of my large furniture items on Craigslist. Here's hoping no pervy or weird people respond. I already get enough Viagra spam in my inbox as it is.

14. I gave up on my Pinterest challenge. Perhaps I should shake the dust off my boards and find more things to accomplish over this long and lazy summer.

15. My children have taken ink pens to their body and drawn themselves tattoos. Also, they are planning on what to get the second they turn 18. What have I done?

16. I am reaaaaally considering sewing like mad this summer and selling my wares. I mean. there's already nine hundred million people selling felty foods on Etsy, so why not join the party? Also, I do custom orders, should browsing turn to buying.

17. I think I need to watch Notting Hill again.

18. I wonder how many episodes of Disney channel series will my children force me to watch/listen to this summer.

19. Is it too late to learn how to drink?

20. Just kidding. Sort of.

Happy...what day is today?

Update on cancer and such

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 05:08:00 +0000

Ok. So it's been quite awhile since I shared what's the haps with my cancer and surgeries and junk. Well, let me make amends. Also, I must warn you that I will say quasi naughty words. Like nipples. Be prepared. Also, don't look at me, it's embarrassing.

Well my chemo ended in October. They tell me that it takes several months for chemo to work its way out of your system so therefore, it's only been since this month that I'm probably done with having affects of chemo. I'm not going to lie, they were no fun. When your body is poisoned from the inside out, lots of things go to pot. But cool things are happening. Like, my hair is growing and my nails don't look all weird and ridgy and junk.

I had implants put in at the end of November. They were SO MUCH STINKING BETTER THAN EXPANDERS. Seriously. It's like my boosies are breathing sighs of relief. I'm all nice and healed up and feeling quite perky. The Hubs is a fan.

So the next step: to get *whispers* nipples. I know. So risqué. Now. Let me tell you, this part is optional. I mean, really, having boosies period was optional. But this is super optional. So I'll go in next month for a little outpatient thingy where my awesome plastic surgeon will work his magic and create wee nipples for me. I've no idea how he'll do it and quite frankly, I hope I don't have to watch. He says he'll do something to do with cutting a bird shape and origami and...whatever. I've no idea what he means. I just know I'll wind up with nipples.

Also, I'll keep being poked and prodded and tested and such for any markers that indicate cancers anywhere else in my body. It's weird, people. It's like, my body has so many hiding places, you know? Like, there could be something evil lurking in my liver, or hiding behind my ovaries. It's like, a really really lame game of hide and seek.

At least, this is what I think about in my dark moments.

But mostly, I am full of the positivity. Who knew that deep down I was an optimist? Also, that will probably change. (hahahaah did you get that? What I just did there? hahaahahaha well if I have to explain it to you then it loses it's meaning. So.)

Another awesome thing happened. I got a new job. I was at my cancer center for an appointment in January and boom. The next thing I know, I am working there! I'm a Document Control Tech, Sr. which is a super fancy name for scanner. That's right. I get paid to stand at a copier and scan in gobs of papers. I like it. It's fun. I mean, aside from all the cancer surrounding me and such.

I should probably explain a little tho. I get weird looks and some outright straight forward questions when I talk about working at the facility where I go for treatment of cancer. And you know? I really can't explain it all that well. It's a great environment. I work for a company that works very very hard at making their patients feel at home and safe and comfortable. It's filled with compassion and empathy and kindness. Why would I not want to work there?

I did have a wee moment of ohmyGodgetmeoutofhere the other day when I happened into the infusion room where I used to get my chemo treatments. See, that's where the really good ice machine is. And so, I was filling my Tervis Tumbler full of crunchy ice when I heard some beeps coming from an infusion machine and it was like I couldn't get out of there fast enough. And, I'm not gonna lie. It'll be so bizarre when I come across my own medical record whilst I'm filing paperwork. But, I'm a big girl and I can handle it. So there.

So that's what's up. I'm well. I'm healing. I'm growing hair like a Chia Head. I'm scanning for money.

Happy Wednesday.

Another Pinterest Project! This time, a bleach pen designed t-shirt.

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 02:50:00 +0000

So. It's time to splash about photos again here on The Blog.

One day, I was spending quality hours searching Pinterest for DIY ideas and came across this awesome one: Bleach Pen T-shirts!

So I thunk, I can do this! And so I did.

First, gather your materials.

As you can see, I have a shirt that is 100% cotton (very very important!!) that I found at a thrift store for $1.50, a piece of wax paper, something solid to use as a drawing surface and a Clorox Bleach Pen for Whites (also important!!).

First, some good tips:

1. In order to do this project, you'll definitely need a shirt or fabric that is natural such as cotton. It cannot be a 50/50 blend of cotton/whatever. I'm told it just won't accept the bleach.

2. Use a fresh Clorox Bleach Pen, and make sure it's for whites. Importanty. Also, shake that pen up. Shake it. Shake it. Are you shaking it?

3. This is bleach, people. Use ventilation and don't get into your eyeballs and other logicky stuff.

4. This project takes time. From start to finish, it was a good 2.5 hours. So, clearly you can't just rush this thing. Or, if you do, you'll be shaking your fist at the universe.

Moving on.

So, you've got your stuff all laid out, right? Like so:

What your eyes don't see, unless you've got X-ray vision, is that I've inserted the mat in betwixt the front of the shirt and the back of the shirt (basically I just slipped it inside on the side I wanted my design) and then laid the sheet of wax paper on top of the mat. You could probably use a book or whatever. I just grabbed the first thing I saw. Also, I'm told you can use Freezer Paper and iron it to the inside of the shirt. Whatev. I just used my wax paper because it was handy. The point is, you don't want the bleach to bleed through to the back of your shirt.

Let us begin.

Actually, wait. I forgot a key ingredient to this! You need a design. So, I trolled the Googles and found a dandelion image that looked quasi-easy to recreate using a messy bleach pen.

And thus, I began.

And there is my design. This is in the early stages, very wet and very smelly. I'll tell you that drawing with a bleach pen isn't all that easy. I noticed that some people used chalk first to make their design and then used the bleach pen over it. I like to live on the edge like a rock star, so I just went with it. Some of it looks uber goopy and lumpy, but I figured it would only enhance my design. I let it sit like this for at least 20 minutes, just to make sure that the bleach would do its job. I watched an episode of Monk whilst waiting. You may choose to do something else.

After a chunk of time floated by, I was ready to rinse off the bleach. I just carefully carried my shirt with the wax paper still inside to my kitchen sink and ran cold water over the design. Now, here is where I'll tell you that I experienced that the bleach was hard to rinse off so I used a paper towel to help the process. I tried to work fast so that no residual bleach would land anywhere else. It wasn't too difficult.

Here is the shirt with the bleach rinsed off.

As you can see, it worked! I immediately chucked the shirt into a cold wash cycle and then dried it like normal. I even was bold and daring and just added this shirt to a load that was needing laundering. Needing laundering. Those words sound weird together. Needing laundering. Needing laundering. Weird.

Anyways. Here is the finished product.

BOOM. Also, I know you're thinking the shirt color looks all weird compared to the other pictures- it only looks that way because I took the first set of pictures at night and the last picture was taken during the day. Natural lighting. Way different than light from a lamp.

And there you have it. My bleach pen shirt with dandelions!

Meow. I'm totally copycatting my frenn.

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 23:37:00 +0000

Have I told you about my friend, Sasha from Lemonade Makin Mama? Welp, she's pretty awesome. I'm convinced we'd make excellent neighbors. Anyways, I lovingly borrowed this idea from her today. Here goes!

Currently loving... sewing. Some days we're BFFs and some days I hate it with the passion of a thousand suns. Lately, we're still friendly. Ask me how I feel about it in a week.
Currently reading... Crossed by Ally Condie. And The Fey on my iPrecious. And soon, Lord of the Rings. Have I mentioned that I lurve reading?
Currently waiting for... the dryer to stop. Because, yet again, the dirty underwears need attention.
Currently excited about... my trip to Florida next week!! Harry Potter, here I come!! Woooot!! Have I mentioned that Butterbeer is the best drink ever??
Currently missing... my sister and her family. She just had a baby. A wee squishy little baby that I'm pretty sure needs to be mine. "I shall call him 'Squishy,' and he shall be mine, and he shall be my Squishy."
Currently trying... to sew a corn on the cob. It is not my BFF.
Currently working at... making smoothies every morning. My blender and I are in the acquaintances phase of our relationship. My goal, to be luhvahs.
Currently enjoying... that my hair is growing!! Have I mentioned I look like a boy?
Currently snacking on... granola mix. There is not much to say about that.
Currently using... "Day at the Spa" goat's milk lotion from my friend, Dawn. She makes it herself! It's awesome!!!!
Currently wearing... a shirt with missing buttons. Have I mentioned I'm not altogether that domesticky?
Currently planning...on sewing a Quiet Book. That someone will pay me for! Have I mentioned I love sewing? Also, ask me in a week how I feel about that.
Currently singing... "Colours" by Grouplove. Yes I am.
Currently needing... a new pair of jeans. Tres hard to find.
Currently learning... how to make smoothies? Ooh, and how to sew puffy corn on the cobs. Have I mentioned I hate the corn on the cobs?
Currently listening to...an airplane flying overhead. It makes me hanker for some canned air and Sky Mall magazines.
Currently wishing... I could squish my squishy nephew. Also, that I would lose 10 pounds, because isn't that what we all wish for?
Currently doing... a look around my messy room. Now I'm back to looking at the computer screen. The screen is much better to look at.
Currently praying for...some new changes about to take place. I shan't tell you now, no I shan't. But soon, I shall. Also, that my corn on the cobs don't suck. And to lose 10 pounds. And for my squishy nephew to be big enough to leave the NICU. And...many things.
Currently dreaming of... a vacation to Disney World. Have I mentioned I'm just a big kid? Nay? Well, I am a colossal big kid. Also, I'm sure that's redundant. Yet, I am not going to change it. Nay.

Happy Thursday.

DIY Onesies, or, the first time I used an iron in like, three years.

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 02:55:00 +0000

So. I said that I would splash about pictures of crafts that I've done that I found on Pinterest. Well, HERE I GO...SPLASHING ABOUT!!

My sister is about to have a baby. Like, literally, she's about to have him any minute now. A boy. A wee babe with testosterone. Thus, I decided to make customized onesies with wittyish sayings. Because that's how I roll here at Chez Murphy. With the wit and the saying of the wit.

Prepare for photo splashing.

What you'll need for this project:

1. Ideas. Or, you can just steal ideas from other people. Dude. It's not like we own the sayings. Steal! Steal away! Also, don't tell anyone I told you to steal.

2. Fabric Transfer Paper. Idk why I capitalized all that. I found my FTP at the Walmarts.

3. Onesies. Also found at the Walmarts. With a coupon. Word.

4. Scissors. For you shall cut and trim and cut some more. And trim.

5. An iron. Which I had to hunt for because I don't do any ironing around these here parts. That's what the dryer is for. Also, I just revealed how great of a housewife I am.

Ok, now to get started on Fabulous Onesies With Wittyish Sayings.

First, go on your compy and create the designs you want to use. Or, get your husband to do it like mine did, because My Hubs is the bestest. Once you've gotten your designs/sayings/pictures/whathaveyou all ready, print them out on your Fabric Transfer Paper. HOWEVER, DON'T FORGET TO DO IT AS A REVERSE IMAGE. OR MIRROR IMAGE. OR WHATEVER OPTION MAKES IT LOOK ALL BACKWARDSY. I forgot to do this the first time around and thus cussed in my mind and sat frantically at the computer until My Hubs took over and figured out what to do. So. Lesson learned - read the instructions in the FTP which clearly state to make your images reversed. Moving on.

So once you have your images printed out and they are backwardsy, cut them out leaving a very small margin. Also, I should mention that I chose the LIGHT Fabric Transfer Paper. Because I was using white onesies. And thus, you shall have a pile of cut out images, like so:

The backwardsy look is confusing, I know. Now you need to get your iron ready. Make sure there is no water in your iron and the steam option is turned off. Now heat up your iron for five minutes on the highest cotton setting. Prepare your surface. For me, that meant sponging off all the crumbs and whatnot stuck to my table. Then I laid a towel on the table as my ironing surface. The instructions say not to use an ironing board. Idk why. It's a mystery.

Now is a good time to get a helper. This is mine.

She got bored pretty quick, though. Not helpful at.all.

Now that your iron is all hotty hot hot, iron your towel. To rid the towel of creases. Now, iron your onesie or tshirt or whathaveyou. Now your surface is ready for Witty Saying Or Image Placement. Like so:

You place your image where it is on the fabric and where it's not showing all backwardsy anymore. Get it? Once all centered and such, iron that bad boy.

Have I told you how difficult it is to iron and take a photo all at the same time? Nay? Well. Take my word for it. Word.

Iron iron iron. The instructions tell you how long. I did it for around 45 seconds. In smooth movements, emphasizing the corners. OOH- I forgot to mention, when you cut out your images, make the edges rounded. This prevents the edges not adhering and whathaveyouandthings. So. Now that your image is all ironed on your fabric, let that cool off for a couple of minutes. While one was cooling, I was repeating all these steps with the next onesie. I am practically as organized as Martha Stewart, I tell you.

Once your fabric is all cooly cooled, you are ready to begin peeling. I just began slowly peeling away one corner of the ironed on image. It's not rocket science.

Slow slow slooooowwww. It's not a race. Also, that scratch on my hand? From a tree at work. Christmas is dangerous, I tell you.

Now, your transfer paper backing is peeled off. Voila.

Boom. You're done.

Here are all my finished onesies.

And there you have it. DIY Customized Baby Onesies With Awesome Wittyish Sayings. Also, can you tell my family is heavily influenced by Apple?

Happy Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 22:36:00 +0000

I left out the NEW on purpose. I'm not sure what the purpose is yet. Give me a few minutes and I'll come up with something smarty pantsy.

So. It's 2012. The year the world will end, according to that movie with John Cusack. I am just full of the hope today.

Also, aren't I supposed to list a whole bunch of things I want to accomplish this year? Well, I love my lists, so I shall play along.

1. Get out of debt completely. We are so close, people. *holds up finger and thumb really close*

2. Figure out what exercise really means and then do it. This is not because the December Fatty Me is writing this. This is the It Keeps Cancer At Bay Me saying this. It's like vitamins. That make you sweat.

3. Finish my little paranormal fiction. I'm like...this close. *spreads finger and thumb a little ways apart*

4. And this is it, people. The big one. The real resolution I have made and plan to keep. Are you ready? I shall, each month, pick and do a DIY craft project that I find on Pinterest and splash it all over this little bloggywog.

SO. PREPARE YOURSELF FOR AWESOMENESSOSITY, PEOPLE. CLEARLY.

And may the rest of the 363 days go smoothly, with no cancer or life threatening diseases, gorgeous hair growing in and smaller dress sizes.

Also, I bought two Christmas presents yesterday for this year. So, clearly I am seizing control of my year already.

Peace out.

It's sad that boosies and cancer are all I talk about here on the blog nowadays

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 23:37:00 +0000

Ok. It's been ages and a decade since I last updated. Or, a month. I've been working like a crazy person both at my Mall Job and here at Chez Murphy, where dirty underwears never go away and sewing projects heap up begging for attention. So sadly, you readery peeps don't get to know what's going on with me. I know you're crying.

So what's happening, you ask? Surgery tomorrow morning! This surgery is called an exchange surgery where I'm swapping out my coconutty expanders for perky and plush silicone implants. Also, is it weird to anyone else that I just oh, so casually talk about boosies like it's the weather? Hmm. Anyhow, I'm told by my nurse that I'll feel heaps better after this surgery and be much more comfortable. What I was most excited about was buying a normal bra straight off the rack. I'm practically normal.

Even more normal, my hairs are growing back. It looks like my head is covered in black duck fuzz. Also, I had to shave my legs and pits again for the first time in eons. Sadly, I know that the novelty will wear off this current excitement and I'll again join the ranks of the complaining female masses in regards to shaving woes. And the metrosexual peeps, too.

So, physically, I'm doing well. I'm healing up from all the chemo biz, my poison has waned, I feel like myself again.

Intellectually, I feel like the chemo brain blanket that covered my brain synaptic powers is now gone, so I can think again and don't stand there drooling whilst staring off into oblivion.

Emotionally, well, I had a rough few weeks where I finally let all of my circumstances cascade down and I really felt them. It sucked. But, I am so grateful to the peeps around me who just sat there and let me go on and on about how lame and lousy things were and just nodded sagely when I said I was in a foul mood. One friend even was like, "Well it's about time". And I was like, huh, you're right. I think I kept a smile on my face just so I could survive all these crazy last few months without going bonkers. Anyways, now I feel fine.

Spiritually, me and Jesus are BFFs. So. All is good there.

And that's it, folks. Since June, I've been sliced open and drugged and poked and prodded and bandaged and poisoned and encouraged and lectured and scared and hugged and loved on and dealt with this crazy thing called cancer. It's been a hard but fast ride. It's been scary. It's been life changing. I have scars that will never fade. Some veins are shot for good. But, I'm here. I'm typing this cheesy post with working limbs and a brain and pizza in my belly. My kids came out of this ok, with helpful teachers and family members who talked to them when they needed it. My Hubs has coworkers and friends who have checked in with him and let him know we're being thought about.

We made it.

Did I do what I said I would do in June? Did I "kick cancer's ass"? Well, maybe for now. Cancer is a bully, who might come back to push me around again. My prayer is that all those pink ribbons out there and all those giving folks and all those brilliant scientists and all those cancer foundations find the answer and cure for this scary disease.

I pray that more women kick this straight in the derriere. That more women will do self breast exams and screenings. That more women will take the reins in regards to their own health and not wait for something bad to happen. That more women will be proactive and learn what they can about how to prevent this from happening to them. And, I pray that once women find themselves a victim of this horrid disease, for a good medical team, for strong supporting community to surround them, for financial blessings to pour in. For strong families to bind themselves to these women, to hug when they need a hug, to listen when they need to listen, to do when they need to do.

Because, that's what I had this year, and I seriously do not know what I would have done if I hadn't have had that.

I am truly grateful. I am humbled. I am amazed.

So. Tomorrow. New boosies. Growing hair. Leftover birthday cake.

It'll be a good day.

Keyboard Confessions: The Post Chemo I Have My Life Back Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 04:26:00 +0000

I like lists. So there.

1. Chemo is finally over. That tremor you felt was me jumping for joy.

2. Although, that fact that it's over didn't hit me until today. Let's throw a party.

3. My hairs are growing back. Just a wee bit. Just enough that when I walk really fast, they kind of blow around. I feel like I have a Chia Head.

4. I shall soon be getting rid of these blasted expanders. I shall not cry when they leave my body. Nosirree.

5. For three weeks, my right eye watered constantly. It was a chemo side effect. So I rubbed my eye to remove said water. This means, for three weeks I had no make up on my right eye.

6. I practically reek of class and sex appeal.

7. You know the one benefit to chemo? Besides adding years to my life, of course. I only had to shave my legs once a month. I know. Feel free to be jealous.

8. I met Kiersten White, author of Paranormalcy last weekend. She signed on my copy of her book "You're bleeping awesome", which I'm pretty sure she signed on everyone's copy. But still. I felt pretty bleeping awesome.

9. I have to drive some friends to the airport in a few minutes. It's very late at night. And I am var var tired. Therefore, I shall sing R&B songs var var loudly to stay awake. I'm feeling the TLC "No Scrubs" vibe tonight.

10. NaNoWriMo is coming up. Remember that little novel thingy I'm working on? Well. What if I told you I was going to work on it some more. Would you believe me? Yeah. I wouldn't believe me either. You know me so well, reader.

11. I've made Christmas presents for almost everyone already. Keep feeling jealous, people.

12. I think I need a tattoo.

13. I discovered this week that the lady at the Chick Fil A drive thru window knows who I am now. I was like, 70%/30% proud/embarrassed. Apparently, I eat out a bit too much.

14. A friend of mine emailed me saying she was going to sing at a fundraiser concert for the Susan G. Komen foundation and wanted to know what songs inspired me whilst I dealt with this cancer biz. I was like "Paper Planes by MIA? Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People?" Ok, so I admit my musical tastes are lacking in the inspirational department.

15. I had a milkshake about an hour ago. Which means in about an hour I am going to be hating life. Why do I make these choices, I ask you?

I shall go drink some Diet Coke now, lest I fall asleep driving.

Nighty night, my fine readers.

Welp, it's time for another update from yours truly.

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 23:14:00 +0000

You know, let me aside for a moment before I jump into this long overdue post. "Yours truly". Just what exactly does that mean? What if I'm not being true? "Yours white lyingly" "Yours just kidding" "Yours had you going there".

Also, I talk like I'm cranky because I am cranky. Just call me Cranky McCrankerson. It's because I've not had a Twizzler in (carries the two, divides by soup cans, multiplies by no cable television) A WHOLE MONTH.

Also, I'm so over all this dumb chemo biz.

So, it's with joy that I announce my last chemo will be this next Tuesday. Although, it's hard to look forward to Tuesday knowing how lousy I shall feel once Tuesday comes.

I'm over it all.

I'm over heating pad burns on my arms that take weeks to heal.

I'm over having no hair.

I'm over two week long periods because my girly organs are freaking out.

I'm over runny noses, and mouth sores, and feeling like my stomach hates my guts (get it? hates my guts?).

Let me take a quick break so I can change my lousy attitude.

brb

Ok. Just took some happy pills. Aka, Chewy Chips Ahoy Cookies. Little discs of chocolately pleasure. I was going to save them for my husband, but, clearly I needed them more than he did.

Where were we? Oh yes, all that poison and vitriol spewing from my fingertips.

Tell you what. Why don't I highlight the good? Yes? Ok.

1. I'm back at work. This is nice. My employers work with my crazy, bizarre, erratic chemo schedule. They're way supportive and encouraging. And I get paid. So. It's awesome.

2. I had my last expander fill. I no longer have problems sleeping on my stomach. It's a wee bit weird when I bend over and the liquid sloshes around, but, whatever. This is temporary.

3. I'll have my "exchange" surgery sometime in November. Switching the expanders for silicone implants.

4. Pinterest. The most addictive website ever. Are you on it? Are you a Pinterest Addict?

5. Glee is back on.

6. I'm sewing again. Sewing stuff That's Sew Rad. <--- my future etsy.com shop name is hidden in that sentence. Betcha can't figure out what it is. Also, I bet someone steals my uber cool shop name. Alas.

7. I'm in love with this song:

Such a nice message this song has. Seriously. Yet I lurrrrrve it.

8. NaNoWriMo is just a couple of months away. My wee novel is demanding attention. Remember the excerpt I posted? Well, I got lots mores to writes, yo. <--- an excellent example of grammar and elocution. Is it any wonder I tries to be a writer, yo?

9. I still have eyebrows. *High fives*

10. I've been organizing Chez Murphy. *Low fives* Also, ask me how The Hubs feels about me organizing Chez Murphy? Soon I shall highlight all my mad skillz of organization. Also, I stole some ideas from Pinterest. That's the way I roll.

Peace out, people of the innernets.

On losing my hair

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 16:15:00 +0000

So the day appeared. The day I knew was coming. The day I'd lose my hair.

It was a Tuesday. Just a normal Tuesday. I ran my fingers through my hair and a wad of strands lay in my hand.

It was about durn time.

Seriously. From the moment I was unhooked from the chemo needle I've been waiting for this. I was beginning to think I was an anomaly, that maybe my hair would just stick there. Because, word, I have got some thick hair.

No really. I make hairdressers earn their money. Every single one of them tells me how thick my hair is.

However, thick hair does not mean good hair.

No, it doesn't.

So yesterday morning, whilst showering, I happened to look down at the floor of the tub and saw copious amounts of blackish strands circling the drain. That's when I knew. It was time. Time to shave it off.

I've had some time to think about it. I admit, I was pretty emotional sitting in the oncologist's office, discussing the effects of chemo and hair loss being the most prominent. I cried. I won't lie. It turns out I am very vain. And whilst I complain about my ever chronic bad hair days, I had hair. Hair is normal. Bad hair is normal.

But then, my Hubs reminded me that I get the very rare opportunity to see myself bald. I mean, who didn't wonder what they looked like sans hair when Sinead O'Connor came on the scene? So, in that regard, I'm pretty lucky. I also know what I look like sans nipples.

But that's another story.

So, here it is, Thursday night, and I'm perched on a chair in the middle of my bathroom, a towel draped around my shoulders to prevent hairs from attaching themselves to me. Yeah, that really didn't work, but whatever.

My Hubs is sniffling and holding his electric shaver. My oldest daughter, Emma, perched on the side of the tub to take pictures of me with her Daddy's iPrecious. (Really, I think she just was there to play on the iPhone, but whatever. She said supportive and nice things.) My youngest daughter, Addie, fled the room. I think watching me being scalped was upsetting to her. I can't say I blame her.

We got the before picture, good advice from others who went through this process. Lance discovered soon that my uber thick hair was a true match for his electric razor so he grabbed my good craft scissors and went to work. Snip snip snip. Many snips later, he went back to the razor. Buzz buzz buzz. Dang, I have a lot of hair, y'all.

Pretty soon, it was done. There's still stubble up there, in fact, there's quite a bit of it left. But if I run my hand along my scalp, little stubbles come away with it, so I'm pretty sure in a few weeks, I'll resemble a cue ball. I think that'll be way better than the rough side of Velcro feel I've got going on right now.

I didn't cry. I think it's because I did it on *my* terms. I didn't wait for chemo to snatch my hair out from under me.

This feels empowering. I can handle it.

And because I know that all of you will wonder what I look like, I'm going to be an awesome friend to you and share with you what I look like now.

I've even got a wand.

Chemo. The gift that keeps on giving.

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 15:25:00 +0000

So, since so many of you were clamoring for an update on Kearsie Healthwatch 2011, I thought I'd jot down a quick bloggyblog. Ok, so there was only really one of you clamoring, but I aim to please. So.

Chemo has begun. I'm having my "good" week. Which basically means that this week, all my side effects go away and I feel normal for just long enough to forget how lousy chemo is before I have to start the vicious cycle all over again. I know. It's kind of like menstruation.

Chemo is absolutely, 100% no fun. I've only had one cycle thus far. My next will be the 23rd.

Here's a quick rundown on what I went through whilst doing chemo:

*I am strapped up to the IV. Two different nurses have to tackle this because apparently I have super strong veins that don't like to be pierced and as a result of their poking, I still have a bruise. But that's ok because the other option is to get a port. Poke away, nurses. Bruises fade.

*I don't have allergic reaction to the two different chemo drugs selected for my torture: Taxotere and Cytoxan. But they go super slow at first, watching to see if I turn bright red or quit breathing. This means that I sat with an IV for four hours. No, I'm really not exaggerating. I am glad I brought a book.

*My mouth tastes funny. I try chewing gum and sucking on Jolly Ranchers but no dice. Yep, this is my first side effect- my taste buds rebel against me. This I will have to endure for 1 and 1/2 weeks.

*I am super tired. Enter second side effect- extreme fatigue. I go home and sleep the rest of the day. And then half of the next day. I will feel tired for many days.

*Nausea. Because my name is Kearsie and this is how I roll. Lots of nausea. No vomiting, but many days of popping any and all nausea meds given to me in hopes that the stomach roiling goes away. I will endure this for a week. But I expected this, so I am not surprised.

*FIERCE HEADACHE. It feels like ice picks are being driven through my temples. No pain reliever completely takes it away, but thankfully, the headache fades around day 5 following chemo. I am tough, I can take this, oh man thiskillswhereisthetylenol.....

*Hunger despite no taste. Because of the steroids, I am starving. I am nauseas, and have no taste buds, but I want to eat everything in sight. Because of this, I gain 5 pounds. I was told this could happen. So therefore, I let myself eat ice cream straight from the carton. The streroids are to keep me from getting a nasty rash on my arms and face.

*I break out all over my face. It's not the rash. It's just the regular hormones coursing through my body doing their monthly thing, only I seem to be super sensitive and respond by getting fierce acne. Nice. I feel 15 again.

*Joint pain, specifically in my lower back and pelvis. This is because the day after chemo, I get a shot to boost my white blood cell count and it manifests the pain where the most bone marrow is. I no longer feel 15, instead I feel 85.

And then, by around day 6, I feel better. Not great, but better. Soon, the nausea and headache and joint pain become a faded memory, and I do things like put on make up again, and clean my bathroom. I even begin to cook again. My face no longer holds my "I feel sick to my stomach" expression and I start walking upright again, not clutching my lower back whilst hobbling around the house.

I feel normal again.

Normal is very nice.

I'm very pleased that my phase of normal fell in the month coinciding with my two girls returning to school. Today was their first day. I still have my hair. I did not stand out amongst the eighty bazillion other mothers there at school today dropping off their kids, meeting their teachers. I feel very proud of my ability to blend in.

I will lose my hair this week. It takes somewhere between 10-21 days to lose your hair following chemo. And both of the medicines I have to take have hair loss as a side effect. So I bought a hat. No wig, because I've yet to find a place that my insurance pays for. But it's hot outside, so maybe I won't want a wig anyway.

I also had a big talk with my girls, explaining to them that some kids might ask them questions why I am bald, or even make fun of me. I tried to help them know what to think and say. Here's hoping that was just a precautionary measure that won't be needed.

I was also very pleased that Emma's teacher is a two year cancer survivor, that she understands what our family is going through and will be a source of help for Emma, should she need it.

Survivors? Are everywhere. This is pretty cool.

So there you have it. I'll be doing this chemo biz until mid October and then I'm done. My IV bruises will fade. My hair and nails will go back to growing normally. I'll drink copious amounts of water to flush my kidneys. I'll be ok.

It's so hot outside, it might be good to lose my hair.

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 22:30:00 +0000

At least it's not the middle of winter, yo.

So. Chemo starts tomorrow. I'll have four treatments. Staggered by three weeks. So, this sister is going to party down come mid-October. Like, buy myself a whole bag of caramels and stash them in my underwear drawer so my kids can't have them. Is that selfish? Also, I did that last year so it really doesn't matter if it's selfish. Also, the caramels will be a nice break from all the Twizzlers I've been downing. Cannot.get.enough.Twizzlers.

My treatments are crazy long. Like, over two hours long. So this sister went to the library today and stocked up on young adult literature/romanctic drivels/sci-fi filled books. Also, when I call myself "sister" I feel nunish. Nunnish? Nunlike? One of those. But like, the Whoopie Goldburg kind of nun. As opposed to the "Climb Every Mountain" kind of nun. Also, I hope I've not offended any nuns.

I got a phone call from an oncology nurse giving me the run down on all that will happen whilst I am on the chemo needle. Basically? It's this:

My body will rebel against me and everything that functions normally will not function henceforth normally and my eyesight might get fuzzy and my hearing might go dim and my joints might hurt and there might be fevers and insomnia and nausea out the wahoo and cats and dogs might marry each other and maybe California will, indeed, drop into the Pacific Ocean and maybe the Breaking Dawn movie will be as steamy as the previews go and anyways, I need to drink a lot of water to prevent urinary tract infections.

I know. I'm so glad she called or else I wouldn't've known what to do when my body fell apart.

Meanwhile, I am applying for small loans to buy school supplies for my kids. For real, people, as much as I love and adore buying school supplies, I'm pretty sure those kids are eating all those glue sticks for snacks and that's why I have to buy so many. Also, I recycled that joke. For all the new people who have just now happened upon me. All two of you.

The squirrel keeps coming back to mock me. So I stopped watering my plants just to spite him. Actually, I stopped watering my plants because it was clear that:

a) these plants are never going to produce anything edible, except to the aphids
b) the squirrel will just eat everything out there and
c) I'm supremely lazy.

Also the squirrel pooped it's little squirrel poops all over my patio.

Not happy.

One might even say, unhappy.

I like not happy better.

That last sentence reads weird.

I did not find a wig yet. Also, is it just me or is shopping for a wig as bizarre as shopping for, let's say, a new foot? "Ooh I like this foot, it makes my leg look longer. Maybe I'll go with the foot with the blue toenail polish. Blue reminds me of Katy Perry. But does it make my other foot look funny? Also, what if it's too hot for this foot? Alas, maybe I'll just buy a new sock."

And that's why I bought a hat.

I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts...dee del dee dee

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 16:24:00 +0000

Ok. Mildly inappropriate. Seeing as how I'm referring to my boosies.

So. Shall I give you a glimpse into Chez Murphy and all it's glorious goings on? Well, if you insist...

I shall type it in a list format. For I miss my lists.

1. I've had two "fills" in my expanders and it feels like I'm wearing a coconut bra. Seriously. These things are hard as rocks. Well, rocks covered in flesh. And I still have a billion more fills to go.

2. A few days ago I discovered how to lay on my side in bed at night. This was a joyous occasion seeing as how I was using borderline profanity at night, trying to find a comfortable position. It only takes me five, maybe six pillows. It's like I made a nest. But I can sleep, so, I shall nest away.

3. I amend that previous statement- I can sleep...if I take sleeping pills. I am beginning to feel like a junkie.

4. I have to start chemotherapy. Whoa! I just dropped that bomb in there! That's the way I roll here at Chez Murphy. Dropping bombs. And participles.

I was unprepared for that little snippet of news. But, given my age (35) and what they now think is the size of my tumor (2.7 cm), chemo is a no-brainer. It makes the chance of reoccurrence from being 37% to 13%. And I'm here to tell you, I will do practically anything to avoid going through this again.

Because my good attitude? Has practically dried up. I admit it. I am borderline surly now. Thank goodness you only have to read my drivels, let alone sit in the same room as me whilst I stew on my immediate future.

Also, bonus! I will lose my hair!

Yes, that was said with smidgens of surliness. I admit it. I've not come to grips with being bald. Or being eyebrowless. Or eyelashless. Also, my spell checker thingy is hating me.

There is something very strange in knowing you're allowing literal poison into your body, which will kill all fast growing cells, all for the hope that if any remaining cancer lingers in some tiny corner or closet in my liver, it will be killed. It's a very bizarre reality.

5. We had family here. There were 12 peoples in my apartment. I'm happy to say the floor remained intact and didn't cave in on the folks living downstairs. We had a great time, driving through the national parks of The Coloradoes, eating at just about every restaurant here, watching the five Tim Hawkins videos my besties on FB sent me, to keep me from slitting a wrist whilst recovering from my copious surgeries. They were excellent therapy.

6. A squirrel ate my strawberry plant. We'd only harvested 6 berries from it. Which means I paid approximately $10 for 6 strawberries. I pretty much hate any and all squirrels and wish for their immediate death.

7. We saw Harry Potter. My brain was mostly drug free and I didn't trip out, as opposed to seeing the new Transformers right after taking a narcotic. THAT was a Woodstock experience, I'm pretty sure. I kept staring at the screen and thinking, is this real? Trippy. But back to HP. There was only one scene that bothered me, which I smugly turned to my Hubs and said haughtily, "THAT'S not in the book." And he called me out on my book purist pride. I don't care, I was busy eating my smuggled in Twizzlers.

8. Someone turned up the thermostat outside. Hence why I shall not be buying a wig. It is dadgummed hot outside.

9. IKEA opens in two days. We are so there. If nothing else but for the meatballs. Because this sister is craving meat.

10. I did my own laundry the other day. It felt so normal. To think I used to complain about doing laundry. And tonight? I shall cook my first meal in practically a month. Normalcy feels very good.

Eat a popsicle for me, so I can feel cool. Also, that is a double meaning. Also, I'm pretty sure it's worthless as I had to explain it. Alas.

A surgery-less Friday is a great Friday, especially when Harry Potter is on the agenda

noreply@blogger.com (Kearsie) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 15:34:00 +0000

I've done what I can to prepare myself for the awesome eye-filling wonderous event called Harry Potter.

I plodded through Book 7 this week, despite the copious amounts of narcotics filling my brain. I watched the DVD, including missing scenes, even tho the DVD makes tiny departures from the actual book. I've got my movie outfit all lined up. I might even buy some Twizzlers and smuggle them in. Because I must have Twizzlers.

Today is also the day when, God willing, I'll get my final set of drains removed and therefore allowed to sleep in a horizontal position for the first time in (carries the one, divides by Ibuprofen, multiplies by bandaids) over two weeks. Sleeping sitting up is the pits. I'm fairly certain there's bad grammar in there somewhere.

Speaking of pits, I showered by myself for the first time in two weeks. My pits? Might never recover. I tried to shave them. But alas, a dull razor and lots of armpit hair are not friendly. This is more than you want to know, isn't it. Alas.

I miss my sheets. I miss my comfy bed. I even miss the hole in the egg crate pad by my left foot where I tugged on it too hard and ripped a chunk off.

I also aim to fold and put away some laundry and then...wait for it...CLEAN THE BATHROOM.

It's like hiking Mt. Fuji. Is that a real mountain? My drugs are meddling with my brain synapses. That bathroom is so dirty I'm sure one of those TLC programs could come in and film it. It's sicknasty.

Also, my kitchen counter looks like a pharmacy, so I really must consolidate and put away all those thingies...what are they called? The things pills come in?

*shakes head to clear the fuzzies*

I also really must apply lotion. I put the lotion on my skin or else I gets the hose again.

No seriously. I really need lotion. I am like, flaking away. Remember that sunburn I had a few weeks ago. Well. No more.

My in-laws drove up to help us and then last week my poor mother in law fell and broke her foot. Have I mentioned our last name is Murphy and there's a law written about us? Yes. So this week I've been on my own. With my seven year old to take care of me. She makes a mean pb&j.

I think I shall stop here. Before The Drugs cause me to say something embarrassing.

Peace out.