The new cure for cranky

It is amazing that my kids seem to know when I am having an off day because they always come up with a way to make me laugh. Take now for instance. I am in the middle of trying to do a very boring research proposal for school involving an experiment I am supposed to conduct next week, but I am tired. And cranky. I think I may have gotten 2-3 hours of sleep last night and my boys did not trade up to take Mark Ingram in the draft and let my husband's team take him which I will never hear the end of so I am a little short with my fuse today. How do my kids respond to this? They bring their musical toys into the living room and start playing with them and then they begin dancing. It starts with them just standing their moving their bodies back and forth from one foot to the other with very exaggerated head swaying. Left. Right. Left. Right. After a couple of minutes of this I am almost smiling, but these kids are smart and know that it is not enough. They then move to the middle of the room and begin dancing with jerky almost violent looking motions with their arms up in the air all the while spinning circles. There is no way this can end well, but miraculously, they do not run into each other. When they notice one another they start laughing and then try upstaging the other. Stitch begins jumping while spinning and dancing and possible even convulsing while Trouble put his hands out to the side and starts flings them up to the left, down in the middle, and then up and to the right. He looks like a marionette that a child is playing with because he then tries to involve his legs. How can you not laugh watching these two. Thankfully my two goof balls have chased away mommy's sour mood and I can begin to really enjoy my day! 

There is no finish line, until there's a cure

Sabrina and I were in math class and trying to cheat on the test as usual without getting caught. We had developed a system of using sign language between our desks to help each other with the answers that we couldn't figure out by ourselves. Once the test was completed we were supposed to go to the next room and begin working on our homework. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Instead we began talking about the weekend and our plans. I was going to a friend’s house if her mom ungrounded her and Sabrina was going to the Relay for Life.

I had never heard of it and Sabrina said I should come by and check it out given that I lived just right across the street. It turned out that Debbie was still grounded and since I had nothing else to do, I decided to head over and see what was going on.

Sabrina met me at the entrance to Zaepfel Stadium and took me inside. It was a sea of white, blue, and purple and finding anything was going to be next to impossible. In fact, it took us more than an hour to find our campsite. There were actually two teams sharing our site. One was for the adults and the other was for the teenagers. We settled in, had dinner, and then listened to the adults go over what was going to be expected of us. The teenagers were at one side of the campsite and the adults were at the other. If anyone was found in a tent belonging to anyone of the opposite sex, their parent’s would be receiving a phone call regardless of how late the infraction occurred. 

Back then, the threat actually held water as most parents still punished their children. There was no doubt in my mind that my father would have tanned my hide if he received a phone call in the middle of the night notifying him that I was trying to sneak into a boy’s tent. Sabrina’s dad was the one who informed us of the rules and I have to tell you that he was a very big and very intimidating man. I got the distinct impression that no one ever crossed him and if they did, their bodies were likely snack food for the fish in the Yakima River. He let it be known that if he even suspected that there were thoughts of not following this rule, the only person they would find themselves sleeping next to would be him. Not a picture I wanted in my head then and one that still makes me shudder today.

After we got settled in we headed over to the stage for the opening ceremonies. Songs were sung, poems were read, the usual thank you for coming speeches were given, and then there was a call for survivors to come to the stage. What were they talking about? Survivors of what? I was trying to figure out what they meant by the survivor comment when the stage began filing with people. There must have been more to 100 people and they were all wearing purple shirts. All of the other participants were wearing white so why did these people have purple shirts. Sabrina had told me the white shirts were to show unity so what did the purple shirts mean? Surely they stood for something, but I had no idea what it could have been until a little girl was wheeled over to the microphone and began to talk to the crowd. She was 6 years old and she was a cancer survivor. That is what the shirts were for. It was to signify the people who had beaten cancer and those who were still mounting daily battles against it. The crowd got very quiet as this little girl told her story.

She was on her third round of chemotherapy, but the cancer was still spreading. At the age of 6 she had already undergone 9 surgeries to remove tumors and one surgery to remove her left leg. Doctors were hopeful that removal of the leg would help to slow the overly-aggressive cancer. Her hope was that the cancer would slow down long enough to allow her to play outside that coming summer instead of spending it in a hospital bed. She was 6 years old and she had only been able to play outside once in her life. Her story broke my heart. After completing the story, she led what is known as the survivor lap. The first lap of the Relay for Life is walked by cancer survivors to celebrate them. After they complete their lap the rest of the participants join in and the relay kicks off.  

Sabrina and I were slotted to do the first four hours and the last four hours of the relay so we stayed out on the track and kept on walking. About an hour into our shift white bags began lining the track. When I asked her what they were, Sabrina explained to me that they were luminarias. People pay money for the bags and then put the name of a loved one who has cancer, or who has died from cancer. Bags that say In Memory of Jane Doe are for the people who have died from cancer. Bags that say In Honor of Jane Doe are for people who have had or currently have cancer. The longer we walked, the more bags they added. At one point I left Sabrina walking for the both of us and went over and purchased a bag for my grandpa. If these bags are to honor cancer patients, I want to honor him. After I write out his name on the form and hand over my money, I make my way back to Sabrina. We began walking slowly as each of us read every bag. I remember being sad when I realized that more of the bags said "In Memory of" than "In Honor of". As the sun began to set dozens of people knelt in front of the bags and began to light candles that were nestled inside the luminarias.

At 10PM our block of time was done and Sabrina and I head to the main stage for the luminaria ceremony. Where the opening ceremonies were upbeat and encouraging, the luminaria ceremony was subdued and quiet. The speaker said there were many different ways to carry out the ceremony, but the method she felt drove the message home the most was to read each and every name from the bags lining the track. As they began reading I broke off from Sabrina. She went to find her mom and I went to find the bag I had purchased for my grandpa. After about 20 minutes I found it and just stood there. As the names were being read in the background, I was thinking about how much I missed my grandpa and that the last time I had seen him alive, I was sick and couldn’t touch him because his immune system was too weak. It was at that moment that the announcers read out his name.

 I cannot describe how it felt. It was as though something broke inside of me and for the first time since he had died, I grieved. In a way, it helped me to heal because it changed part of me. I think it was the first time in my life I realized the true magnitude of my insignificance. I was a freshman in high school and my life or death moments involved clothing, boys, and gossip. These people represented by the luminarias fought real life or death battles daily. I knew from that moment on I would be different and that every year after that I would take 24 hours of my life to celebrate their lives.

I have participated in 13 other Relay for Life events since then and unfortunately my list of "In Memory of" Luminarias continues to grow. What started out as 1 at my first relay has now turned into more than 10. If you ever get the chance to attend a relay, I urge you to go. If you cannot attend the entire event at least make it for the Luminarias. The beauty held inside those bags becomes tangible at 10pm and ceremony speaks volumes through the quiet. My first relay changed my life and if you let it, it can change yours. 

Three blondes go to get a Christmas Tree

So this night started out like most others. Three people sitting around talking about what they were going to do for the evening. I do not remember now which of us had the brilliant idea to go get a Christmas tree at five in the evening, but knowing my love for Christmas and the fact that we were only about a week into December, I would bet I was the one to suggest it. My mother and sister had no objections to my crazy plan so we decided to go up and get me my Christmas tree.

Now you have to take into account that I am not talking about driving over to Walmart and getting one of the trees from some lot. I was talking about driving to the U-Cut tree farm that was about 30 minutes from where I was living. We loaded up into the car and headed up to the farm. We were almost to the tree farm and we were laughing, talking, and singing in a way that can only be described as painful for anyone who would have been subjected to it, but we were having a great time.

About a mile away from the farm, the skies opened up and rain began to fall. I wasn't all that worried about it though. We would just have to wait it out. After pulling into a space and waiting in the car for 10-15 minutes, we decided to throw caution to the wind and brave the elements. Outside the window of my car and only about 20 feet away from where we sat was MY TREE. Everything inside of me was screaming that this tree was perfect. There were no gaps, it was full and bushy, it was the perfect height for my apartment, and there even appeared to be a golden light illuminating it to really signify that the tree and I were meant to be. Okay, maybe the golden light was from the headlights of the car, but who am I to judge whether or not God was speaking to me or if it was just the shine of headlamps? Obviously I had to act in case it was an omnipresent message meant for me.

After checking in with Santa who was taking time from his busy season to take photos with little kids and hand out tree cutting saws to would-be customers, I was on my way. I walked right over to the embankment above the tree and made eye contact with my . My mom thought I was crazy and she was going to walk all of the way around the lot (maybe 50 feet) to the flat place where you are supposed to enter. I, however, could not risk someone else possibly coming along and taking my tree in the time it would take me to make the trek, so I decided to slide down the very muddy slope on my feet snowboard style. Now, if you know me you are laughing already just thinking of me, the girl who is possibly the most uncoordinated person in the entire world, trying to slide down something while standing up. I cannot even walk down stairs without falling and it sometimes happens when I walk up them. (I still remember you laughing at me Tammy!)

With my resolve set and Jessica snickering in the background, I planted my feet, and then grabbed onto Jessica. As we began to slide down the hill, we realized we were actually going to make it. Filled with elation, I looked back at Jess and we lost it. Literally. Turning around made me lose my balance and as I slipped, I grabbed Jessie for dear life who in turn grabbed my mom. I only fell down onto my hands and knees and I believe Jess fell the same way. My mom on the other hand was not so lucky and ended up on her backside…in the mud. So there we were, the three of us sitting in mud. It must have been a sight and I think we all realized it at the same time because all three of us suddenly broke out in our silent Muttley laughs.

Once we were able to compose ourselves, I set out to harvest my tree. I took off my hoodie and laid it on the ground so that my shirt would not get muddy. I then laid on top of that and stretched my arm out under the tree with the saw in hand. I began sawing. There was very little room for my hand and the saw under this tree and absolutely no room for my face, so I was looking up at my mom and sister rather than looking at what i was doing. When I was certain I had cut through the tree’s trunk to a point that we would only have to push it over, I pulled the saw out. We then pushed. The tree shook and then stayed exactly the way it had been. It did not topple over as it should have. I was perplexed. I crawled back down onto my sweater and had my sister lift the branches up and out of my way so that I could see under the tree. I had been cutting for what must have been 5 or 6 minutes, but I had cut approximately an inch into the trunk. So I hunkered down to try again. This time I stayed there until I knew the saw had cut through the tree. This took about 30 minutes and during this time, my brilliant plan to use the sweater as a buffer between my body and the mud had failed horribly. I was completely covered in mud and the rain had picked up so that it was now a torrential downpour. I had sap and dirt and bugs in my hair. My arms were covered in Christmas tree droppings of a wide and disgusting variety and I was cold. I hate being cold.

My thrill over finding the perfect tree had quickly diminished and I was left feeling dejected and a little broken. My first Christmas by myself was slowly turning out to be something I wanted over and done with. After we knocked the tree down, some teenage boys came over and asked if I wanted all of the debris shaken out of the tree. I did. After they shook the tree, they netted it and tied it to the top of the car. One of the guys got snarky and then asked if I wanted them to shake the debris off of me. I did not laugh though my mother and sister seemed to think it was the funniest thing ever. We drove the tree home and set out to carry it inside my house and begin decorating. Unfortunately when I got inside, I saw that it was almost 9PM and I had to get up for work at 4AM. Tree decorating would have to wait.

We untied the tree and rolled it off of the car. I took the bottom of the trunk with my mom and Jessica took the top of the tree. 1. 2. 3. Lift. The tree raised about 6 inches and then dropped. We dropped with the tree. How was it that the tree weighed more than the car that brought it home? It was impossible to carry it up the stairs and into the house so we rolled it to the bottom of the stairs. We then drug it into the house. After battling with the tree that somehow resulted in a broken picture frame and me with a black eye, we were able to wrestle it into the tree stand. Apparently when I was cutting the tree, my arm grew weary and the tree trunk was not cut in a straight line therefore allowing the tree to stand the way it should. Instead it leaned, kind of like this. 

I didn’t care at this point however and I just left it. My mom and sister went home and I took a shower. I scrubbed and rubbed and picked and loofah’d every inch of my skin. Some of it was bleeding though I do not know if this was from the battle with the tree or from the scrubbing. After removing as much of the sticky sappy goop as I could, I decided I was as clean as I was going to get and I got ready for bed.

I like to unwind by reading before sleeping and I picked up my book. I opened the cover and turned the page. I did not let go of the page. The sap had glued my fingers to the pages. I then used my other hand to peel the paper from my skin. I ripped off the corner of the page. It also happened to be stuck to my other hand now. Think Chevy Chase in National Lampoons Christmas Vacation.  I can tell you from experience they did not exaggerate that scene. At all. The more I tried to remove the paper, the smaller the bits became and I eventually ended up with 34 tiny pieces of paper stuck to me rather than the 1 I started with. I gave up and slept. Fitfully. Every time I rolled over, my sheet came with me. Sometime around 2AM I finally dozed off and I dreamt….of Christmas trees.