April hasn't been a great blog month

So, I've been trying to blog a couple of times a week, on average, but April has pretty much been a craptastic month for me blog-wise. I know I'm not here to bitch, so I'm not going to make excuses for myself. I've lost perspective and haven't made time for something that I know I am benefiting from.
Tonight, I want to talk a little about the men in my life.
My main man is Landon. I think Landon and I knew pretty early on in our relationship that we were meant to be together. We actually talked about getting married after only dating for a month or so. Even though we knew that was a pretty ridiculous idea at that point, and went through a great deal of growing pains together for the six years we dated before getting married, I think we both knew that we were going to spend our lives together. The reason I knew this, I think, was because Landon got to see me at my absolute worse from the very beginning of our relationship and he loved me anyway. I remember once asking him if he loved me. When he said he did, I said, "Good. You're stupid. Let's get married." But he wasn't stupid then and he isn't stupid now. Despite my many flaws, he could see past it all and love me for who I am. Thank goodness he can because there are a whole lot of flaws to see through.
Landon is hard on himself because he knows what he is capable of. He is similarly hard on me. He doesn't pull punches and he doesn't make nice. . . he tells it like it is regardless of who is there to hear it. These traits of Landon have often caused my family to be concerned about the way Landon treats me. The thing is, though, he knows what I am capable of and isn't interested in the many excuses I have readily available to explain why I am just not there yet (or might never be there). In all honesty, the woman I am today is largely due to Landon pushing me to become a better version of myself. It's been difficult and sometimes painful to push through the bs, but I am so grateful that he never gave up on me even though I have often given up on myself. I am incredibly lucky to have a man like Landon for my spouse.
The other man in my life is still a little man. A little dude, as Landon and I like to call him. His name is Mason, and he just turned four. Being Mason's mom is often difficult. I am pretty sure that he is already smarter than I, which is saying something because I'm smarter than most people I know. Unfortunately, he doesn't know nearly as much as he thinks he does. I have no idea where he would get this innate certainty of his own abilities and knowledge (neither of his parents are anything like that), but man, it sure can be frustrating!
Right now, Mason is learning how to read. He really wants to just memorize words, but it is important for him to do it the proper way, building on letter sounds then phonemes and then onto words. A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to teach him how to read a simple book. We were frustrating each other, and I told him that he's only three and doesn't know everything yet. His response? "Being three means that you are really good at books, and also that you know everything." He then added that being four means that too (he knew he would be four soon, so he needed to cover that base). Boy, did that make me giggle. I couldn't contain it!
Mason is difficult, not because he is a brat or because he isn't a nice boy. He's difficult because he's just so danged smart and curious and busy. And although I often feel frustrated by something or another, I need to remember what a blessing it is that he is part of my life. Mason is so funny, usually on purpose even. He is incredibly tender and kind-hearted and sensitive. Even though he can be rather stubborn, he really wants to please me and make me happy. He tells me all the time that he loves me and wants to be with me. He's an amazing boy, and I am beyond lucky that I get to be his mom.
The men in my life are a great blessing. I'm so glad they came to be in my family!

Tragedy Strikes

On the evening of Easter Sunday, I sat down to check my email. I had one from one of my Redwood City mom friends, and I was happy to see her name in the list. I was happy until I saw the subject line: (Forwarded with permission from Allison T) I have cancer.
My heart stopped. Allison T. Another mommy friend. Has cancer. I opened it up immediately, skipping the other two messages that were above it. My friend, Fleur, had prefaced the forwarded message briefly, but I skipped that part and got busy reading the details that Allison had sent out to the parents at her daughter's preschool co-op.
She has breast cancer. A grape-sized lump she found herself. She was still breastfeeding her baby when she discovered the lump. The cancer was invasive and aggressive. She would be undergoing a double mastectomy Monday (the following morning), and will start chemo in May.
As I finished reading the email, with tears streaming down my face, my heart ached. My friend has cancer. My friend who's children are the same age as my own. My friend who is the same age as my sister. My friend who is in amazing shape, who doesn't drink or smoke or eat unhealthy foods. My friend who has no history of breast cancer in her family. My friend who is still too young to get a mammogram. She has cancer. Tomorrow, she will have no breasts. The breasts she used to feed her babies will be gone. And soon she will have no hair.
Still, Allison sounded brave. She sounded ready to fight. Hard. Ready to do what ever it was going to take to fight the cancer growing in her breast. Ready to fight it and win so she could live her life like she had envisioned. Ready to fight so she could help raise her two beautiful daughters together with her husband.
Having just recently watched how cancer and the treatments that go along with fighting it can ravage a body and slowly chip away at the spirit, my heart was breaking for my friend and her young family. I spent the next 48 hours in constant thought about my friend Allison and the battle she was facing. I thought about the abruptness of such a diagnosis. I thought about my own baby, still breastfeeding, and the sorrow I had been feeling about our inevitable weaning. Then I thought about the idea of weaning by mastectomy. I thought about the idea of being forced to cut off part of you own body just to have a chance to live.
The main reason I started blogging was to help me remember my blessings... to help me remember to be grateful every day. There are days when I am able to live with gratitude in my heart. Other days, not so much. And sometimes, something happens that jolts me awake, as if to say, "YOU ARE SO LUCKY! JUST LOOK AT YOUR LIFE! REMEMBER!"
Allison's mastectomy went smoothly, and she seems to be recuperating well. There is no sign of cancer in the surrounding lymph tissue, which indicates that the cancer has not metastasized. She sounds like she is doing well. Still, I know that there is still a long fight ahead. The chemo she faces will cause her to go into immediate menopause in addition to the other side effects normally caused by such treatment. Physically, she faces further surgeries to repair her chest and make her look womanly again. My friend is strong and she is determined, and I think she will beat this thing. I do not look forward to the battles she has to fight. It's a difficult road ahead.
I am so grateful for my health and the health of my family. I am grateful that we are not the ones in the trenches fighting this battle. And I am grateful for the reminders I am given every day to be grateful for my many blessings.

Blessings Everywhere

Last night, Landon told me to go ahead and get a ticket to visit my best friend in Seattle while he stays at home with the kids. He also told me to go ahead and get the ticket that puts me home in the middle of a weekday so I don't have to get up super early in the morning to come home in time for him to go to work at a normal hour. He did all of this after gently carrying our sleeping son upstairs to his bedroom and put him to bed, with a gentle kiss and pat on the forehead. What a blessing to have a husband like Landon.
Today, when I picked up Mason from school, he asked me if I had missed him. I told him that I did, and he assured me that he missed me too while he was at school. Then he told me he loved me. When we got home, he asked if he could watch a show and have a snack before naps. While we watched Dora, he shared his cheese and crackers with his sister without any prompting, then snuggled up next to me and stroked my hair. What a blessing to have a son like Mason.
This evening, as I read stories with Marissa, she cuddled up close to me and smiled. She patted my hair and my arm and gave me kisses. What a blessing to have a baby like Marissa.
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with my sisters and their children. We exchanged stories, commiserated on shared experiences as mothers and wives, and generally enjoyed being together. They watched my kids so I could run my car to get some maintenance completed. Then we all went to dinner and had ice cream afterward, and I paid for nothing me or my kids consumed. What a blessing to have sisters like Caitlin and Meagan.
Everywhere I turn, I find blessings. Sometimes I forget to look for them, but they are there even so. Some of these blessings I really don't deserve, yet I benefit from them all the time. I am so grateful that despite my continued ingratitude and lack of perspective, I am so, so blessed.