Saturday, April 15, 2006


Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sport! The thrill of victory...and the agony of defeat! The human drama of athletic competition! This is Byron, Georgia’s: Wide World of Sports!

The always-tricky balancing a ball on a spoon race. I think it's supposed to be eggs on a spoon, but thank goodness it wasn't. As many times as those kids dropped the balls, that field would have reeked like Sulpher City by the end of the day.

I guess this is good practice for when they start stealing street cones in their teen age years????

Kendrie told me the night before she hated this event, the "Kangaroo Hop". Now I understand why. With all those short little kindergarten legs, it took almost fifteen minutes for all those kids to hop down the lanes!

The hurdle relay. One of the trickier events for kids who (unfortunately) get their Athletic Gene from their uncoordinated mom.

Ah, yes. A true test of athletic prowess --- the Beanbag on the Head relay.

And of course, the scene that took place repeatedly throughout the day, Kendrie doing whatever event was taking place, always, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth.


OK, believe it or not….. (wait, I have to throw some salt over my left shoulder with my right hand) …. Believe it or not, I think I have some good ……. (hang on, I need to find my lucky four-leaf clover before I say anything out loud and jinx myself) ….. some good news ….. (hold it, where is my unicorn horn? My leprechaun broach? My Aladdin’s lamp?) I really want to tell you what has happened, but I’m afraid if I don’t rub my rabbit’s foot, nail a horseshoe over my door, step over the cracks in the sidewalk, find a heads-up penny, break the long half of the wishbone, drop an eyelash onto my cheek, sight a shooting star, blow out an entire dandelion, coerce a ladybug to land on me, cross my fingers, and knock on my wooden computer desk in juuuuuuuuuuuuuust the right way, then it will all blow up in my face.

Yesterday was NOT Friday the 13th. It was Friday the 14th. And apparently the planets aligned, the prayers and good wishes of all of you were heard, and the Gods of Diving Timing smiled down upon us, because believe it or not, I think Blaine’s unexpected tooth extraction will wind up being a blessing in disguise! (OK, so maybe *he’s* not feeling that way, eating mashed potatoes for the last six meals in a row, but I sure am!)

We got a call from the radiation department at the University of Washington last night, and taking a “better safe than sorry” approach, they want to delay Blaine’s radiation by an entire two weeks. So instead of starting this Tuesday, he won’t go until the beginning of May. Which means, if you drag out your pocket calendar and count out the days, like I immediately did, his final two weeks of radiation, when they predict he will start to need help, are the two weeks AFTER the baby is due to be born! So I can pop out this kid, then hop a flight to Washington and help him myself, instead of sending my (completely willing but slightly overwhelmed) mother to do it. Instead, she will come here to be with me for the delivery, then stay with the kids while I go to Washington. I mean really, had I scheduled it myself, the timing couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.

Blaine is not happy about the delay, just because he had his mind wrapped around the treatments and was in his “mental happy place” and prepared. Now, he’s got to wait; unpack his suitcase (and his worries and concerns) only to re-pack in a few weeks. Plus, like he keeps telling me, “I’m walking around with cancer in my head. Excuuuuuuse ME if I want to get it out of there as soon as possible!” Yeah, ok, whatever. It’s all about ME, and this works out perfectly!!!!

Things we specifically need to go right (so those of you in the kneeling position, please keep right on slinging the happy thoughts upstairs):

1. That my body cooperate so the baby can show up on the 19th. Due to a previous c-section, I can’t be induced if I’m not physically “ready”.

2. That the delivery be uncomplicated. I need to be out of the hospital in time to catch a flight three days later.

3. That the baby be born healthy, beautiful, and happy. Wait, this should be moved up to the number one spot. It’s the most important.

4. That I immediately drop fifty pounds after the delivery. (Ok, so technically this is more of a vanity request than a legitimate prayer request …. But if I’m asking, I might as well ask for everything I want, right?!)

I realize the timing of everything leaves us with a very small window for error, and the way things seem to go for us, plans will change two or three times between now and then. But for TODAY, I feel huge relief. Seriously. Like someone has taken Stonehenge off my shoulders.

I wanted my mom here for the delivery; looks like I’m getting it. *I* wanted to be the one in Seattle helping Blaine, looks like I’m getting it. I’m like the spoiled rotten Paris Hilton of the cancer world, getting everything she wanted! The only thing I’ll miss is the kids' last week of school, but since Grandma will be here to cater to their every whim help out, they won’t miss me one bit.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, for all your good thoughts and concern. It worked!

Well, I better go fix some more mashed potatoes for Mr. Crabby McHole in the Mouth. I guess I should feel sorrier for him. I mean, I like mashed potatoes, also, but I suppose after two solid days it **would** get a little old. He started our grocery list this week with the following items: oatmeal, ice cream, yogurt. That’s just sad, isn’t it?

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