It's like Disneyland only not.....

So, tomorrow is the day friends.  

Tomorrow. 

 (I know if you were counting down with me you are probably super confused because your countdown says chemo day isn't tomorrow but Wednesday....well rest assured your countdown is not flawed.  The day got switched so that I could actually see my oncologist on treatment days, so Tuesday is the new Wednesday -- kind of like leggings are my new pants since I can't wear any other pants without them falling off -- it's sorta ridiculous).  

Tomorrow -- in my leggings, I will be rocking the first chemo treatment of many.  

I say many, not because I want to do chemo for the rest of my life, but because at this point as many as I can get means that I am alive for that much longer.  

Tomorrow.  It sort of seems like the end -- and at the same time a new beginning.  It's like I have been looking forward to the day, and dreading it all at once.  Looking forward, because I just want to see what this "new life" is going to look like for us and dreading it because I don't really feel ready to face this "new life" and what it is going to look like for us.  

Eric and I were explaining to the girls last night a little bit about how things were going to function this week and what might possibly happen.  Trying to find a way to understand, Lauren said:

 "So, it's sort of like you are going to Disneyland for the first time and you don't really know what it is going to be like, but when you get there it is better than you thought......only, I guess this is like Disneyland without the rides. So, it's like Disneyland, only it's not." 

Well, I guess that's one way to look at it. 

 It's like Disneyland, only it's not.  

Oh, to be a kid again.  

Actually, I don't want to be my kids.  

Truth be told they are really struggling right now.  

Lauren is internalizing EVERYTHING and trying to be perfect and fix everything and do everything and be an 11 year old grown up and not ever show an emotion. She writes in her journal and draws a lot of pictures  She is me 26 years ago.  Literally.  (part of me wants to read what she's writing, but I think it would be kind of selfish of me -- she will share when she's ready, hopefully)

Natalie is angry, and confused and really struggling -- which for her turns into lashing out and shutting down and acting a lot younger than her almost 9 year old self.  She told me tonight that she already decided that for her birthday she just wants me to feel better.  Her birthday is on Halloween (and it just so happens I have chemo on my birthday a week before that, so let's just hope and pray I can give the appearance of feeling better by the 31st).  Maybe I just need to think of a present that will make her forget about me feeling better?! Any suggestions? 

Tess is not even 2 years old.  Not even 2.  She still touches my incision scar and now the chemo port and just says "owie mommy, owie" over and over again, all day long.  Well, unless she is throwing a tantrum or being 2 -- and then she just bangs her head against my chest (where the port is) and it really hurts. But she's hurting more, so I just pretend it doesn't hurt me..  

This is tough stuff for all of us.  It's not Disneyland folks, but you better believe that we will make it back there and celebrate any small amount of progress made.  (I don't actually love Disneyland but if it makes my kids happy then I'm all for it.  If it helps them to forget about what is happening here then for sure -- lets do it.)  

So, I will be sure to report how it goes tomorrow.  

Here's to the first day of a new adventure and looking forward to an actual trip to Disneyland, with rides.  

And just because this blog needs a little happiness, how about pictures of the time last November when we actually did take a trip to Disneyland. 

This was before Tess fell asleep, on the teacups. 

Tess on her first birthday last year at disneyland.