by Christie Perkins
My taste buds are salivating. Chemo killed my taste buds for Thanksgiving last year. Though chemo had been done for a couple of weeks they were still in slow recovery, numb to my Thanksgiving feast. This year is going to be different.
Much, much different.
And I can’t wait. Last year I was actually grateful for stuffing. I hate stuffing. Toasted buttered bread slopping up water is just glorified floaties, in my opinion. Ok, I’ll stop. Now I’m ruining your appetite.
But I do have a point.
Jelly Bean Hailstorms
by CHristie Perkins
Send someone a Jellybean Hailstorm today. It’s so simple to let someone know that you care.
The bag of jelly beans slumps haphazardly on the top shelf. I reach up on my tippy-top toes. It’s about to fall. A simple touch and it all comes cascading down in a rain of jelly beans. It tinkles and clanks all over the shelves and floor like a marble hailstorm on a tin roof.
I groan. Then, I smile a little. What a mess!
My little guy come running in. “What was that?” he asks before figuring it out on his own. He catches me doing the reverse butterfly stroke in the jelly bean puddle. His sense for candy is so fine-tuned it would have been a tragedy to miss the aftermath of the jelly bean hailstorm.
By now my other boys’ sensors have been activated and they are standing in the doorway begging me with tinsel eyes. I only have to give a nod and they dive in. It’s not the first time they’ve disregarded floor germs in the name of candy.
We are all smiles.
A simple touch creates this amazing, unexpected, result (and honestly a little complaining from the mess). But, it’s not the first time a jellybean hailstorm ends up in sunshine. A simple touch created a similar outcome for an incident that happened years and years ago.
Giving Thanks for Trials
by Christie Perkins
Kicking cancer with chemo…and an amazing support system.
One year ago today I finished my last round of chemo. I don’t miss it at all.
Hibernating taste buds, fiery hands and feet, stolen feminine identity card, constant flu-like symptoms, and commando hairstyle hardly merits any type of thank you card but the perspective I gained from cancer does.
In May of 2013 I was diagnosed with invasive ductile breast cancer with lobular features. In a nutshell, I had two types of cancer where surgery left me with a cancer finger and a fear of return. My lymph nodes also joined the cancer party. Every party has a pooper, right? Chemo and radiation were my attack dogs. I was a 34 year old mother with four boys ranging from the ages of 2-11.
The Holes of Overthinking and Procrastination
Hang a picture today.
I have a confession: I’m a bit of a procrastinator, a perfectionist, and an overthinker. Bad combo, I know. It’s why it took me several years to get pictures on the wall of my first home. I wanted to hang my pictures only once. I didn’t want to leave a little hole if I decided to move it (and yes, I’m fully aware of wall putty…but I’m also a procrastinator). It’s a disease, really.
This disease is why I’ve been only contemplating launching my blog. It’s been well over 5 years. I wanted it to be perfect: no flaws in page-loading , no thinking kinks, no plastered smile on my author picture. Bleh! My posed pictures always look fake. I wanted a masterpiece from the start. Yeah, I know. (You can relax your eyebrows and wipe that smirk off your face.) I didn’t want to leave any little holes. But here’s the problem- contemplation minus action equals life dissatisfaction.
It creates its own ugly hole.