Ain't no sunshine when there's testing . . .

Daffodils trying hard to bloom in the cold . . .

Wow, April is the month of testing.  Literally and figuratively.  The weather has been miserable.  That's all I'm gonna say 'bout that.  It tests my patience and my sanity.  I NEED to be OUTSIDE after a long, drawn-out winter.  Daffodils are poking through the ground, trees a showing signs of budding, and the grass is even greening up (really green in Spot's favorite places . . .)  I've been outside an hour here and there, raking leaves from the flower beds, raking twigs and branches from the lawn, and even planting trees . . . but what's been lacking from the picture is warmed-by-the-sun-sitting-in-a-lawn-chair-after-working-in-the-yard time.  I wear a sweatshirt and a jacket and work outside because it's getting seriously necessary, not because the weather beckons me to the yard.  Big difference.  Yesterday Steven and I worked on cleaning the border between our yard and the neighbors'.  The poplar trees have shed branches, twigs, leaves, and bark from the winds all winter and spring.  Our neighbors are older, and neither has health that would allow them to clean up the mess that fell from our trees.  We hauled off 5 wheelbarrow loads of stuff!  I was happy to be working outside, and I was even able to remove my jacket and work in just a sweatshirt, but afterwards, the breeze was too chilly to allow enjoyment of being outside unless a person was "working up a sweat."  Don't get me wrong; I'm pretty dang grateful for whatever time I get outside.  OK, I guess I'm not grateful enough, because I still want more!

Forsythia knows the calendar says spring,

even if the weather doesn't!

This morning I woke up to sunshine!  The weather report said it felt warmer than it really was!  Woo-hoo!  Time to get outside and enjoy the day.  But wait . . .oh no, I forgot . . .I'm inside studying for a test.  I signed up to take the Middle School Social Studies Praxis test.  If I pass, it'll allow me to be on the list of "highly qualified social studies teachers" and I'll be legally able to teach social studies in my middle school.  It's not that I'm tired of teaching English/Reading/Language Arts (but I kinda am) it's that I need to have some options.  Our district is feeling the strain of cutting teaching positions and not having enough "highly qualified" people to fill them.  I really do love history and social studies and would love to teach them, so I've signed up to take the test next weekend, and I'm feverishly working to be ready.  (OK, except when I'm writing this blog . . .)  So I'll sit at my computer and gaze outside at the signs of spring and know that soon, very soon, testing will be done and spring will really be here!  Really!

"Cancer Sucks"

That's a sign on the MSTI radiology receptionist's desk.  It does.  Even the "prognosis is good" "not an aggressive type" "we caught it early" kind of cancer sucks.  It's the "C" word, after all.  And it's my mother, after all.  Today I rode with her and my aunt Joan to Mom's first radiology appointment.  I mean, isn't the whole shoot-someone-with-radiation-to-stop-cancer thing kinda counter-intuitive?  Wasn't it radiation that gave everyone who experienced "the bomb" cancer? I guess it's a "good kind" of radiation.  I'm not going to try to explain or figure any of it out; I'm just going to trust that years of treating breast cancer has led to the best ways to do it.  It has taken literally months (~2) to get to the actual treatment, so we're all kinda relieved that we've finally begun.  Now we just go through the daily trips to Twin Falls, 5 days a week, for 33 days and wait to see what happens.  Mom showed no signs of reaction in the 2 hours I spent with her after the initial treatment (the doctor said most people only experience fatigue, and then only after 2-3 weeks into it) but I wondered if her palor and tired eyes were a result.  I think that's the worrisome thing:  Is she just tired because worry over today kept her from sleeping well, or is it the treatments?  For the rest of her life we'll always be wondering, "Is this from the cancer?  Is this normal, or cancer-related?"  Even after it's all done.  Even after she finishes the treatments and they give the "all clear" sign (which we totally expect to get because, after all, "the prognosis is good.")  Everyone is there for support and love and whatever they can do.  The people at MSTI are all so supportive, positive, and enjoyable to be around.  The people at her work are behind her all the way, hoping for some way they can be of help.  The women's center in Twin Falls has offered all kinds of materials and support groups and hotlines.  These things have seemed a blessing as well as a curse.  When you have so many people saying, "Let us help you through this" you wonder if it's worse than you thought.  It IS cancer, after all.  But when I think these scary thoughts, I remember "The Fam."

Mom and her sisters at a cousins' wedding in July.

My mother has the best support system in the world:  her family.  Her sisters and their daughters are always there for each other.  It doesn't matter what, when, or where something's needed, they show up.  When Mom was sent in an ambulance to Boise for heart surgery, some of them beat her to the hospital!  Yes, a call is all it takes.  The rides for the treatment are covered.  The support system is in place.  Bring it on!  We've got an army at the ready!

Ahhh . . . granddaughters

Mary loves painting with her new paints.

 I spent my spring break in the perfect grandma-dream; I was with my two granddaughters (Oh!  My son and daughter-in-law were there, too . . .) Baby Anna arrived a little early, a little scarily, but safe-and-sound, none-the-less.  I went to help with things while mommy and daddy tried to get their lives settled after the great event.  To say it was a wonderful week would be a gross understatement.  If I wasn't holding the baby, I was playing with Mary, the "big sister."  I soon realized why we're blessed with children while we're young:  the amount of energy required for a toddler and a new-born is exponentially multiplied with each child added to the equation. I watched my two sleep-deprived adult children deal patiently with their two time-demanding daughters, and I marveled at the joy they shared about and with their little ones.  Obviously exhausted (think about a baby waking every 2-3 hours at night and a 3-year-old who's feeling unsure about things, so she climbs into bed with Mommy and Daddy no matter how many times she's put back in her own bed . . .) they still found time to share the happy, family moments with each other, spilling love and unity onto the sweet little girls.

Baby Anna asleep in my lap.

In the few quiet moments we were able to experience, I couldn't help but think of the times Corey and I brought new babies into our home.  Each time we added a new member to the family we experienced it as completely new.  Each child brings his or her own personality, and each time we would come home it was the same excitement, same thrill of having another sweet spirit added to our lives, same adjustment for those already living in the home.  I think everyone pretty much experiences the chaos-that-eventually-turns-into-routine with a sense of "this seems like it'll never end, but this, too, will pass (we hope!)  It was a bitter-sweet time for me.  I missed my own small children and our adjustment times.  I feel blessed beyond measure that I got to experience bringing each of my children home as newborns and then raising them to the amazing people they are now.   I empathized with the struggles of my son and daughter-in-law. I remember all to clearly the exhaustion mixed with amazement and joy.  Yes, I missed those feelings, too.  But through all the wishing for the past,  I absolutely loved the time with my granddaughters.  I realize that these will be the memories I will miss when these granddaughters bring home their own little ones.