So Goes Life

I am supposed to be seeing the plastic surgeon today, in a half an hour to be exact, but he was on call last night and is still in emergency surgery from whatever happened last night. Dang it. I was really looking forward to today's appointment, and now I am just stuck at home all day. So goes life.

Ok, my head is still reeling from this past weekend, and often I find myself wondering if the other women at the retreat are having as hard of a time adjusting back to reality. I will say though that I have not cried in the past 3 days, which is wonderful for my puffy eye problem.

I went out to eat with a friend Tuesday night to try and sort through all that is bouncing off the walls of my head. I have found that there might be a little bit more going on inside that I was allowing myself to see or feel. I know that a tough time is coming with the end of treatment, I have been there before and it sucked. I can only hope that from the books I have read, my previous experiences, etc, that it won't be too bad. I find myself hovering between feeling if it's going to come back it's going to come back, and feeling paranoid of it coming back. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. So where do I go from here? That is the million dollar question.

So the question on the table Tuesday night posed by my friend revolved quite a bit on why I am constantly involved in one project or another. I didn't feel that what I was doing was that big of a deal. The only time that I can get things done is when the girls are asleep, for the most part, which is at night. There is no way that I could do all of the painting that I have done with the girls running around. I am a glutton for punishment, but I'm not dumb. Most of the time. So, why do I have a hard time doing nothing? Let's look at some facts....

Yes, there is a part of me that is rushing to get things done "just in case". But the fact remains that these things have to be done at some point or another. We have lived in this house for 2 years and I was tired of all of the whiteness. So I painted.

I have a strong feeling that if I don't do some things, they just won't get done. Dion will agree with that since I asked him last night what he would do if I just stopped doing some of the stuff I do. Would he notice? Would he do anything? Here was his answer...

"Well, I suppose if the bathroom got really gross I'd clean it."

So in turn, there's my answer. If I lean over to the right, I can peek into the laundry room and see the piles of clothes. Dirty clothes, clean clothes, mystery clothes. I am going on record that I am refusing to fold the clothes that when I was gone last week, were taken out of the dryer and put on the table. This is one of the reasons why I am busy all of the time. I think it just so happens that it does not allow me to think too much about things, which for me, at this point in time, is ok. Apparently the fear is that, if I never confront my brain, everything that is stuffed somewhere in me will eventually explode into a full fledged depression. If it hasn't already. But to be honest, I don't know where to even start with unraveling my thoughts and having them make sense. I think I am still recovering from the retreat, trying to re-group my thoughts, trying to find a way to move on. As Beth said, I am sort of in limbo land. Where do I go from here? How do I pick up the rest of the pieces, put them in my pocket, and keep on walking? How do I live, productively, with the thought of recurrence nibbling at my brain for the next 40 years or so? How do I, in a few years, tell my kids about all of this and encourage them to not be scared, when I am scared myself?

I would like to think that moving on was as simple as mind over matter. I would like to say that I don't live in fear every day, I would like to say that life is what it was before, I would like to say that I am a better person than I once was. I would like to say a lot of things, but the thoughts seemed to be stuck inside of me, just kind of swirling around, waiting for the right moment to knock me over.

Why do I stay busy? I guess to stay alive.

A Smidgin

It is almost 9:30pm on Sunday night, and I have the energy of a sloth, hence the title A Smidgin. That is the amount I will be able to write tonight folks, with the hopes of continuing in the very near future. I mentioned in previous posts that I was spending some time in the Dells for a Breast Cancer Recovery Foundation retreat. And that is exactly what I did.

There were seven of us and four staff members, located in a log home, on a lake, secluded, and ready to rumble. Well, not really rumble, but take the plunge into feelings that we had not been able to share with others, since they really had no idea what we were talking about. It is hard to explain to someone who has not looked death in the eye, what that demon looks like. It is hard to admit to feelings that you have, when you know the general population would look at you and suggest you get some professional help. It is hard to release some of the built up anger, sorrow, frustrations, self-pity, and doubt to others without them telling you to be positive, be positive. Be positive? I am. I am positive that I am pissed, sad, scared, and worried. But that is another story.

Anyway, I sat with these other women, never having to justify what I was feeling or why, not having to be embarrassed for the HUGE amounts of tears that fell from my eyes, being able to compare "new" body parts without feeling odd, just being. I said at one point to the group that it was so nice to feel normal. I was with a group of people just like me fighting the same demon, maybe in a different way, but in the end we were one. And it was exhausting. My eyes were swollen most of the retreat, I was emotionally drained, and yet, I finally felt like the missing piece of my puzzle was found and put into place. I laughed as hard as I cried, and I would not trade this experience for anything. I met some amazing people who will forever be in my heart. You cannot go through what we went through and not be tied somehow forever.

I drove home today, and as I was leaving the retreat center, my heart felt so light. I cried freely as I listened to the songs that were ours for the weekend, I felt like I was hovering home. Floating, really at peace. But the closer I got to home, the more reality set in. Knowing I had to go to work tomorrow, knowing that the girls and Dion need me, knowing that I am back in an environment where I am alone and no one understands. I went from feeling my heart smiling, to it becoming heavy again. I am hoping like hell that the contact I keep with these other young women will bring the smile back into my heart. But what I hope even more is that someday I can reach inside of myself, and be the one to make my heart smile. Someday. It will happen. That is what gets me through.

I know I said I would call people when I got home on Sunday, but I am hoping they understand that I just didn't have the energy to talk to anyone tonight. Tomorrow is a new day.....

A Pause For a Brew

Ahhhhhh....that is the sound I made after taking my first sip of beer. I have stopped for a moment to sit down, write a little, and have a beer. Mmmmm...beer. Anyway, I am packing for my trip to the Dells. It is my Breast Cancer Survivors Under 40 Retreat. To say that I need this break would be an understatement. But like I told Dion, I think emotionally it will be a challenging weekend. So, I am trying to get ready for that, along with packing my bags and hitting the open road tomorrow after taking the girls to daycare. Speaking of, I wish I could be a fly on the wall watching Dion with the girls for 4 days alone. I will say that, almost every time in the past 6 months that Dion has gone out of town, they have been very good, so maybe they will be for him too. Maybe. You never can tell with these girls. I had Nadia say to me,

"I'll be righ back, K? K?!?!"

And no, I did not misspell "right", that is how she says it. I wanted you, the reader, to have the full experience.

But anyway, here I am swimming in a mix of emotions for tomorrow. One of my goals is to sleep in past 8:00AM. That shouldn't be too hard to do, right? Man, I hope not, or I am one sorry person. Another goal is to get some tips from others, who know what I am talking about, dealing with moving on. I swear, just today I thought to myself,

"I had cancer. So what?"

Maybe that is a sign that I am finally moving on in life, that it doesn't have to stay frozen in time when I was 29 and diagnosed, that I can continue to grow as a person, that I can live. Is that what it means?

A Little Green Wheelbarrow

We made a road trip this past weekend to Illinois. I bet you are wondering exactly how many hours that is in the car with a 2 year old and a 3 1/2 year old. 6. It's 6 hours. But with the benefit of our dual screen DVD player, it only felt like about 4. Ok, in all honesty, it wasn't too bad, the girls did pretty well, minus some normal toddler issues. But the fun was in the ride home. An experience like no other, to be cherished for years to come. And it all has to do with a little green wheelbarrow.

We take 90 pretty much all the way there and back. In this case, we were coming back from Illinois. Now, those of you who travel that route, know that there isn't a whole lot to look at, enjoy, get misty eyed over, so we've got to get our kicks from odd things. There was an old run down pick up truck that was ahead of us at one point on 90. It looked like it came out of the movie Outsiders, and in fact, the kids driving the car looked like they could have been in that movie too.

"Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold."

So The Outsiders cast are driving the pick up, hay flying out the back, and I thought to myself,

"Hay!"

I controlled myself though, and did not say this out loud. Dion would wonder what kind of a freak he was dealing with at that moment. If only he knew.....

At that moment I decided that it would be wise to not be behind this guy and his crap flying out of his truck. And actually, the whole trip there and back we had been behind people who were carrying things, and it just didn't feel right. Ever have that feeling? I have, and did, so I changed lanes. That move quite possibly saved my family, because, as you understand, not only was hay flying out of that pick up yesterday, but also a LITTLE GREEN WHEELBARROW!!! Except, it was of average size. It wasn't really little.

Now, you have not lived until you see a green wheelbarrel bouncing down the road, just to the left of you, and cars behind you screeching and swerving to miss the hit. Clunk clunk clunk clunk (you might think that was how the wheelbarrow sounded, but actually that was the sound of the ratty old pick up continuing on it's merry way down 90). A wheelbarrow. Rolling down highway 90. Trying to kill people.

So Dion and I decide to catch up to the truck and maybe clue them in to what has happened.

"Get a marker! Do you have a marker? They could read that on paper. What's the international sign for 'wheelbarrow'?"

Ok. International sign for wheelbarrow....I assumed that would be to hold your hands like you were pushing a wheelbarrow, but The Outsiders did not agree. I got a very confused look back at me. I looked at Dion, and suggested that maybe I roll the window down and scream at the guys. Dion did not think they would be able to hear me, but I thought it was worth a shot. I pushed the window button, and watched as Ponyboy, with one hand on the window handle, and the other one forcing the glass down, rolled/pushed his window down.

"WHEELBARROW!!"

Nothing. Blank stares. Not even a "WHAT?!?!" I tried again.

"WHEELBARROW!!!!!!!!"

A look at his friend, a quick turn to look in the back of the truck, and The Outsiders got it. I saw the driver mouth, "Oh sh*t" and slam on the brakes. Zip! We flew right past them, making me think about the scene from Top Gun where they slam on the brakes in the plane and the other guy goes right by. I must be in an 80's movie mood. What other movie could I compare the little green wheelbarrow to? Yeah, I'm not sure.

They guys ended up turning around. I wonder if they ever found their wheelbarrow. I hope so. It was a nice shade of green.

It's Been a While.....

...since I have had a day as crappy as today has been. Crappy really isn't a strong enough word, in fact, if I think long enough about today I could probably cry. Again. That's right folks, I was reduced to tears, and you will love hearing about the straw that broke the camel's back. I literally was literal. I, my friends, cried over spilt milk. Yes, I did. It was me, I am guilty. I literally sobbed after Nadia knocked down her cup of milk, to the point where I went to the couch, rolled up into a little ball and cried uncontrollably. I was pushed to the limit today, and I broke.

I was able to gather myself back up somehow, hoping that I haven't etched a nice warm fuzzy memory into my girls brains. To be honest though, they drove me to the breaking point today. Tag team this, tag team that, "No!!!" "I don't want to!!!" "Leave me alone!!!" These are just a few of the phrase screamed at me today. I just opened a beer, and I can hardly believe that I didn't drink a case during the day. I fear for the teachers that receive Claire. I have no clue what to do with this girl. I thought today to myself, ok, she's 3 1/2.....what the hell will she be like at 15?!? She was completely out of control the whole crappy day, and into the night I might add. Is this normal behavior? I have no clue. All I know is that I really cannot wait until next week for my breast cancer survivors retreat. I will be in the Dells at a lodge with 7 other woman under 40 who have had to deal with this crap too. I think it is a very much needed break from home. Now, excuse me while I finish my beer.....

What's Wrong With You People?!?

Driving. It's not a right, it's a honor! How many times as teens were we told that? It was pounded into our heads. We were told of the importance of careful driving. The importance of following the rules of the road. With a balled up fist we were warned to do the right thing, or else. And that was just from our driver's ed teachers.

So there we were, 16 years old, both hands on the wheel, the music at a moderate level, no distractions....for the first few days. Then it was all about how many people can squeeze into your car, learning how hard you had to press the pedal to beat that yellow light, learning not to tick certain people off with your driving. I did learn through the help of my friend Dana, that when you skip church to go to Burger King for an ice cream sundae, there's a price to pay. God gets even, and He does so in this fashion. If you were to say....oh I don't know...have your sundae fall over and you reach down, just out of reach of your finger tips to try and pick it up, and out of no where jumps a mailbox, and even more out of no where your friend has this ear piercing shrill of a scream (I seriously would have thought I hit a small child based on that scream) and you happen to kind of, slightly, bump the mailbox post, and that mail box would happen to go flying off and into the owners yard. For example. Not that that happened or anything. Anyway, so that's how the driving experience starts.

Fast forward a few years to being an adult driver, and the more I see, the more I cannot believe that the state we live in actually gives us this little card giving us permission to get behind a wheel. Now, I'm sure that you are aware of the different types of drivers out there....slow, over cautious, fast, out of control, PSYCHO! We all have been each of these things, but some of the stuff I saw today, literally made me say, on the comfort of my rad minivan,

"What's wrong with you people?"

And I still don't know exactly how the events happened, but they did. And I sat in wonder and amazement, because that was all I could do.

Imagine, if you will, a four way lighted intersection in the shape of a "t". Well, not like a keyboard "t" because as I look at it now, it really doesn't look like that, but like a "t" you would hand write. Ok. That's settled. Phew! Anyway, I am at the bottom of the "t", waiting for my light to change. Now, if I look to my right, there is a line of cars waiting for the green arrow to turn left. I will add here that it seemed like the lights were pretty long, but I noticed mixed in with the line of cars was a police SUV (you know, in case they have to go off-roading in Red Wing). So let's set this up.....

One car facing me (example C)
l
l
l
V


<------------- waiting to turn traffic(example B)
t r a f f i c (example A)------------------------------>

Me (example...I don't need one, I rock.)



Wow. That was a challenge to plot out in this blog. Ok, so example A decides that at a controlled intersection he will do a U-turn. Shame shame shame....that's illegal. But on top of it, he was towing a boat. Now keep in mind that sitting with the rest of the people in the example B area is a COP! Who does NOTHING! I would put money down that I would have the cherries a flashin' behind me if I had done that. Guaranteed. So I sat in my example I rock area, shaking my head, not really too excited about hings since that does happen all of the time in the state of Minnesota. What followed, blew me away. A mere 5 cars in front of the cop SUV is a person, who at that very moment, had what I imagined to be the following conversation.

"That's it! We have been sitting here for, what now? 2 minutes?!? And the light has not changed. I can see all the cars in example A have a green light, where the hell is ours? How can they expect us to sit here for so long, just waiting for the light to turn the color of snot?!? I have important places to go, and I cannot sit here any longer. Hold on Bertha, I'm gunning it, and I don't care that there is a cop back there. He should write a ticket for whoever controls the lights. This is insane! Here we go!"

Varooooooooooommmmmmm!!!!!

And there went example B. My mouth dropped open as I watched them run a red left turn arrow, without batting an eyelash. But what floored me even more was the fact that the cop, yet again, did NOTHING. Dude! They just ran a light! In front of you! Pretend to care. Make your siren go whoop whoop with warning, flash your headlights, shake your fist, do ANYTHING! Uphold the law, like you promised to do! Fight for what's right damn it, I know you would if I were the one running lights and do other naughty things!

And I watched in horror as the red light runner, slowly made their way up the hill and in the direction of Walmart. For someone who was so impatient they had to run a red light, they sure didn't drive very fast.

So it was at this point in time that I said, out loud, to no one, in my car,

"What's wrong with you people?"

You be the judge....

Nadia or I? Claire or Dion?

After talking with my sister-in-law tonight I decided to post the following. Of course when we talk, it revolves a lot around our kids and what they do, and (tonight) who they look like. So I decided to dig out some old pictures of Dion and I when we were young, just to compare. The results were shocking! Sorry. That was a little dramatic, but I have Idol on TV in the background, and I think that's what they just said. Anyway, I showed the pictures to Claire and she said what I thought she would. She called me Nadia, and she called Dion herself...too funny. So here they are, the famous pictures.....ok, not really famous, but interesting, none the less.

You May Not Know

There are many things that I have learned in my little cancer journey, as I have stated before. But something that you may not know is the following. Well, actually, this applies to not only cancer, but any sort of really big thing that has happened in your life. But since cancer is pretty big for me, I will use that example. Anyway, I have learned this (are you dying to know?!?)....when it has come to MY cancer (I speak only for myself here), I have found two types of people in this world. Angels and a**holes.

"Sue! Whatever do you mean?"

I was hoping you would ask that very questions, so I have come more prepared than I EVER was in college, to answer that very question. To solve the mysteries of the world, to find out what came first: the chicken or the egg, to discover.....nevermind. I'll stick to cancer. So where do we start? Angels or a**holes? Let's dissect the a**holes first, shall we? Come, take my hand. Let me tell you a story or two.

1. The radiologist who asked me, an 8 month pregnant woman, why I was crying about having a biopsy. "It's just a biopsy"-----a**hole.

2. The dentist who said "Wow. You know people die from cancer?" after I told him why I needed the filling done ASAP----a**hole.

3. The telemarketer who said this, after I told him all of our money goes to my cancer, "Well, how about a smaller amount?"----BIG a**hole.

4. When I was told not to use cancer as an excuse----a**hole.

5. When my husband was asked why I had cut my hair SO short when it was finally growing back---ok, not an a**hole, just not so smart.

6. The people who decided not to come around much these past 2 years for what I assume was because they couldn't deal with my cancer----again, not really a**holes, I can't say I totally blame them. I didn't like seeing me all bald, bleeding, weak, and sick, but there are times when you need to do the right thing and you need to put your own feeling aside. I will get off of my soap box now...

There. That wasn't too bad, was it? Only 6 that I could think of, right off the bat (Dang it! You caught me. Just like in college, I appeared to be prepared, but I really wasn't). Ok, on to the angels, which you should know, overpower those a**holes ten times over.

1. All the people who put meals together for us---angels.

2. All the donations given to us---angels.

3. My friend, my surgeon----angel, she saved my life in ways she'll never know.

4. Bill at Mayo who brings me a Diet Coke from his private stash every week because I hate Pepsi--- HUGE angel!

5. Most of the nurses I have come in contact with have been wonderful----angels.

6. SIS, my online support group---angels.

7. The friends who traveled to see me, and those in town who bent over backwards to help us
out----angels.

8. My family---angels.

9. The hairdresser who agreed to shave my head before my hair fell out---angel.

10. My Mayo oncologist----funny angel.

11. My neighbors who didn't react to my reflective head when I ran outside without my
bandana on---angels

12. The anethesiologists---angels in "high" places (I couldn't resist!).

13. The people who have taken the time to actually read this and post a comment or two---
angels.

14. My husband---there's not enough space here to site examples on why he has been an angel
through all of this crap.

So you see? I said the angels reined over the party poopers, and they still do. Every once in a while I have to deal with an a**hole or two, but I try to keep things in perspective now a days. I still get worked up about some things, life would be dull if I didn't, but it's all about moderation people! Mod-er-a-tion!

Here Kitty Kitty Kitty

Cats. I never thought that I would invest in them. Especially since we are dog people. But we did it. And now we have two of them, Tater & Cotton. They are awesome, as far as cats go. They are friendly, and all about the lovin'. But now we enter the world of Wild Kingdom, and the fun begins.

Keep in mind here that I have had, in the past, issues with sleeping through the night. We can place the blame on stress, or the hot flashes from hell, but either way, I had a hard time sleeping through the night. Until recently. I have thrown away my sleeping pills (ok, not really, but I don't use them anymore), I sleep all the way through the night, enjoying every comatose minute. Until recently.

Now, I sleep with two pillows, I'm not sure why, but I do. I, in fact, think that two pillows is part of my back problems, but we need to prioritize here. Focus people, focus! So sometimes one pillow pushes up and in reality I am only sleeping on one pillow, which brings into question why I have two. But that's another story. There I am sleeping soundly, something I treasure now a days, and I hear this God awful noise, and something is pulling on my hair. Damned if Tater isn't CHEWING on my hair and sitting on the pillow that has escaped my head. Chewing. He's chewing my hair! What is wrong with that cat? Then again, what is wrong with me letting all of the wild kingdom animals in our bedroom? Why? Because they are our pets, and as humans, we are dumb. That's why. Plain and simple. What more could I say?

Not So Kwik

Last night we went to another one of our favorite comics, Lewis Black, there's more to come about that later. Now, I will step up to the plate here and tell you right off the bat that I was wrong. From other posts you will remember that I have been wrong in the past, and I sure as hell will be wrong in the future, but in this case, I think I was mislead. I will find out where I exactly went wrong, because I am border-line psychotic and need to know. Anyway, back to my mistake, I thought the show was at 6:30 PM at Mystic Lake Casino, which is an hour away from here. We were hauling to get there in time, and of course got lost and had to call our friend Jeff for help. Murphy's Law. He sneaks that law into my life over and over, but that's another story.

Anyway, Dion had the idea that I stop at Old McDonald's (as Claire calls it), but his co-worker Charlie had the better idea that we just snack on the way there and then eat at the buffet after the show. Sounded good to me. It was up to me to stop and get some snacky foods, with the added pressure of Dion's "Surprise me" in answer to what snacks he wanted. I have a lot of pressure in my life, you know, in general. To add the pressure of finding just the right snack for the both of us was too much. I left a half an hour early to find just the right tastey treats for the both of us. Now, keep in mind the limitations I had right as I walked in the door of Kwik Trip. Well, limitations for the average person, I myself find their food rather tastey, but you knew that already. So, I had to steer clear of the gas station food, and hit the pre-packaged things, and maybe something from the bakery.

Beverages first....I knew from the get go that Dion would enjoy whole milk, because well, he does. Whole milk....check! I ventured out and got strawberry milk (I had a rather bad experience with tequila Rose so you can understand the risk I took in getting strawberry milk). Now for eateries...I knew Twinkies would be a hit, so I got some of those. Then I thought, well, what if he's in the mood for brownies or cookies or something? So I got some mini-bite brownies from the "bakery". Then I thought, well, that's great for Dion, but what about me? So I go to the pre-packaged snack isle and come across a super duper deal of, 3 Nabisco bags of deliciousness for $2.00! Not just any bags, but the Big Grab bags that normally cost $.99 EACH! What a steal! I picked out 3 bags and with my arms full, I headed to the cashier. Now for a split second I wondered how I was appearing to other people. My arms full of, well, just pure junk. I didn't think the milk could pass as being healthy because one was whole and one was some sort of artificial flavor, and I don't think that's all healthy stuff. I quickly went to the cashier and piled all of my stuff on the counter and mumbled, "No gas" which is even worse. That statement right there confirms that the only reason I walked into the gas station, was to do just what I was doing. I felt a little like Winona Rider in the movie Realty Bites, except My Sharona wasn't playing on the radio. Oh, and it was MY credit card, not my dad's.

So here's where the fun starts. The cashier looks down and says, "So are we in the mood for snackin' or is this for someone else?" Uhhhhh.....

Then for some reason I felt the need to go into detail on why I was buying all of the crap food I was buying, and what we were doing that night, and where we were going, and even (sigh) the whole story on how we were going to eat at the buffet. Keep in mind the whole time I was stuttering and acting like I was just caught stealing a Twix bar. I had to get out of there. And fast. And I did. And we ate our snacks, and we made it to the show on time, because you see, it started at 7:30PM, not 6:30PM (I will find where I read that it started at 6:30PM. Mark my words...). and, as I am sure you are all wondering, we went to the buffet after the show, and it was ok. I like our local casinos better, maybe because I am more familiar with it, I don't know.

Either way, I think next time I will go to the store and not a gas station for tastey treats because for some reason, I don't think I would be quizzed on why I was buying what I was buying. Plus I could get a shirt or something too, and who wouldn't want that?!?

The Pause

At 31, I have become a hunter. My victim, like others, is speechless, but mocks me none the less. I zig, he zags. I spend a lot of time just trying to locate my prey, like a deer hunter in a tree stand. If I lose sight of him, I know I just have to be patient....he'll be back.... mocking me in his mean-spirited mockery.

I squint as to try and see him better....where the hell did he go? I can feel him, but I can't see him. I don't even like hunting, and there I sat, waiting. And waiting. And looking. Where the hell is it?!? I try to look from different angles, at no avail. I try to rely on the light to help me see him, and sometimes, at the right angle, I see the punk. Then quick as a flash, he's gone. Again. I lost him again!

Sigh. Well, I guess I will just have to give up for now. I know I will have another opportunity in the near future. I know that I will be able to hear Dion say, "What the hell is that? Is that a hickey?" I know that I will be able to explain to him again that with my chemically induced menopause comes some rather prickly unwanted facial hair. I know that next time my tweezers won't fail me and I will pull that punk out from the root, hold it up in the air and produce a victory scream for all to hear. Until the punk grows back.

Claire & her cousin Kaitlyn

The four buddies!

Mark & Claire

Nadia & Liza

The kids watching Monsters Inc

Who's two?!?

A happy little girl!

Nadia's Birthday

Technically, it's today, but we celebrated with friends and family yesterday. A huge huge thanks to all that made it, we hope you had a good time. I totally enjoyed watching all of the kids run around our house, screaming, laughing, and playing. The ages of kids were 8 weeks to almost 4 years old.

Anyway, we had a good time. I can't remember the last time I ate so much food, but dang it was good! Toot toot (that's be tooting my own horn, and one for Dion too)! Claire had some issues watching Nadia open gifts. She kept saying that she wanted to share with Nadia, even if Nadia wasn't ready to share. I will say though that all in all, the kids were really good with sharing and such.

So, I thought I would post some pictures of the days events for all to enjoy. And you will enjoy them, won't you? Won't you?