Fuzzy Chemo Hair

by Christie Perkins

Technically I shouldn’t have wished for it.

You see my brother has this dog. It’s a very sweet dog. However, I’ve never snuggled it because I’m allergic to dogs and cats. But, claiming it was hypoallergenic, I gave in and scratched behind her ear.

And, immediately we became friends… and I fell in love with the dog.

So, here I am, watching the dog with a gamut of kids around it. They are all scratching her belly, behind her ear and neck and her eyes get all droopy, dazed; glazed. I think she is actually smiling.

Poor dog. Has to stand there all adorable looking and the kids are magnetized by her irresistible cuteness.

And that’s where I went wrong. For a brief moment I wished that I could be a dog (minus the dog food, of course). Continue reading

The Power of Pains

by Christie Perkins

Tears at bedtime are not all that uncommon. It’s because there is pain. Hunger pains that is. These hunger pains become the outrageous Water Meter Reader.

And it’s not me crying… it’s my little guy.

Now I’ve learned a thing or two about pain in my cancer journey. Most of the time I’m feeling alright but there are times when I understand good old physical pain. Mostly it is in my hip (prime vacation tumor location). I can admit tho, that most of the time I feel quite normal. In fact I feel great!

But, in the reconstruction phase of my cancer journey there have been moments of intense pain (I’ll save that for another post), so I could relate to this little hunger pain.

Yet, I’m not very compassionate.

I’m not compassionate because I’ve slaved in the kitchen a-fixin’ the meal and all I get is a squeal- “I don’t like it,” he says. Continue reading

Organizing Tip: 100 Item Dash

by Christie Perkins

So I wake up every morning greeted by the mod podge dumpings just beyond the foot of my bed. Some of it is new stuff that needs new places, some of it old. Hello! The pile is a little more chipper than I am at it’s rude awakening.


Hey, I say then run away. I like you and all but my spaces are small, you look comfortable there next to the wall. But, it’s about time I combat my inner brawl.

You (pile of things) have out-stayed your welcome. I keep feeding you more and more things because… because, well, you look hungry. Yeah, that’s it. You eat everything that anyone feeds you, rejecting no offers (Dude! even dilapidated Christmas bows and useless empty boxes that stow… this pile just grows and grows!). You suck my energy then expect me to pick up after you. You are sleeping at the foot of my bed, and though you don’t snore your drooling all over the place. I like you. I do. I just need my own space of sunshine and grace.

And then the solution to the problem I got: you just need your own-grown name-plot spot.

Well. There’s a sunrise moment if you’ve never seen one. (And since I would rather close my eyes to it, it festered like an oozy zit… ok, I’ll stop this rhyming fit.)

Maybe. Continue reading

Just One New Year’s Goal That Packs a Punch!

by Christie Perins

No regrets: It’s the phrase that’s been clinking around in my head for a couple of months now.

Every year a new theme surfaces. I grab hold. It’s as if I have been mixing around all the things I’ve been wanting to focus on this year and the cream for the upcoming year rises to the top. Ooh, I want that! I tell myself. I want something a little more than I had last year.

I want a year of no regrets.

This phrase, of course, stems from regrets. Everyone has them. I think regrets are a tender mercy. It’s a learning moment that bump scoots you to a better road ahead. Or it stop plops you in a muddy path… but that’s not an option we want to choose, right?

I have simple regrets like wishing I spent more time with the kids, that I maximized my efforts, that I was more organized, that I connected better with those close to me; that sugar balls weren’t a food group. Most of the regrets are simple regrets. I even regret not hitting the text books more (yeah, remember I’m boring like that… it’s fine we can still be friends).

Anyway, this phrase surfaced right to the top. Yes, I want of year of no regrets.

I like it. Continue reading

Give Thanks for Fat Pants

by Christie Perkins

give-thanks-for-fat-pantsGood news. Good, good, news.

I fit into my fat pants!

Yeah. I know. It’s not every day that you don’t fit into your pants that you get to laugh about it. But, quite frankly, I was tired of my flubber blubbering all over the edge of my pants. And besides this massive fat globules overhang was shading my feet from the sun.

Hence the white legs. Continue reading

Using the 5 Love Languages to Save Families

by Christie Perkins

I’m a nonfiction junkie. I love reading self help books and text books. Yep, I’m a full on geek. And I also like a light clean romance book. You know the kind, the kind where the discovery of real love is realized…not just that state of the twitterpation station of life.

using-the-5-love-languages-to-save-familiesSo with my atypical spectrum of book likes, my friend gave me the perfect book: The Five Love Languages of Children by Gary Chapman and Ross Campbell. A perfect mix of knowledge and how to discover and express real love to your kids and family. Not just to be infatuated with our fabulous (and crazy driving destination) families but how to show them that we love them.

So geek it up with me.

Families need a little more love, a little more connections with one another, and a lot more work. So, no matter your situation: divorced, separated, happily married, existing in the same room with a legalized paper that indicates your married, single, with kids… or without, take a look at what Gary and Ross have to say. I’ll get to the details of that in a minute. But, I have tried a few of these simple techniques and have found a little more cohesion in our family. I liked the results.

Because no family is exempt from attack and every family is worth saving, no matter, no what! Continue reading

Because the Little Efforts Count

by Christie Perkins

So the easy way out was not to write today. But, a little something keeps coming to mybecause-the-little-efforts-count head.

I’ll get to that in a minute.

But, today I want the easy way out. The easy way out means I get to crawl in bed and smile about doing nothing. Ah… nothing sounds nice. The smile is only external though because I feel a responsibility to do something that I told myself I would do.

And that is to post a blog every week.

Every hurried, flurried, and scurried week. Even if the paper piles are flapping, the kids aren’t quite napping, and the crumbs are succumbing to faux sandcastle sculptures. I still have to post. Continue reading

How To Cross the Bridges of Tomorrow With Confidence

by Christie Perkins

she-turned-to-the-sunlight-and-shook-her-yellow-headand-whispered-to-her-neighbor_-_winter-is-dead-4So let’s be honest here.

I woke up the day I was to take my chemo pill with dread. I felt my chemo creepy crawlies coming on the few days before. The anticipation of the unknown was blown up in my mind. The list of possible side effects haunted and taunted me. And I knew that my life was crossing onto new and permanent territory.

I had to cross this bridge.

You see, up until this point the perks of my current life were highlighted and blaring in neon signs in my mind. They were good signs. Which of those signs would burn out when I crossed the bridge? Continue reading

Ride the Wave of Goodness

by christie Perkins

Life is not a constant tumultuous wave of trials, as it sometimes appears to be. Even in a life with stage 4 cancer. Every once in a while there’s a splash wave of goodness that comes your way.

You have to be watching for it.

Ride the Wave of GoodnessLast month was tough for us. We currently babysit this cancer by periodically popping our head in on what is going on. We expect good behavior. But sometimes we find a mess we have to clean up. And sometimes, with some assistance, these messes resolve themselves.

I head into my cat scan a little concerned. My hip has been hurting much more within the last month and my legs are going numb. It’s all a strange sensation- these playdough legs. I wasn’t quiet ready to eyeball my current situation but here I was facing the day. Slight tightness constricted my chest as I waited for the CAT scan to pop it’s head in on me. My breath quickens. My mind tosses around the “what ifs” in my head.

So I pull out my handy back-up plan: I pray. Continue reading

Are You Up To The Out-y 500 Challenge?

by Christie Perkins

So I woke up with bags under my eyes. You know when you can feel the droopiness in your muscles and and thighs (yeah, because my thighs are flabby fat not muscles… something like that. Moving on). Well I was in this state when I hit the floor running.

You see, I was so excited the night before that I just couldn’t sleep. I night plotted about all of the things I wanted to purge my house of. It all started with the recent return of a big family vacation. It was a vacation that I lived on 6 outfits (and underwear and socks of course), a dumbed down but sufficient makeup bag, and a deck of cards.

And I was happy. So stinkin’ happy.

Are You Up To TheOUT-Y 500 CHALLENGE_ _Winter is dead.”When I got home the first thing I was repulsed at was the amount of clothes that stood there decorating the vertical space in my closet. They didn’t even look happy to be there. I was suddenly weighed down by all these little things that didn’t matter. I didn’t even miss them a smidge. And I ate half the month in vacation plans on six outfits (which was a very good choice by the way).

Wow. You know, it was time to change some things because I was suddenly tired of all the little insignificant things in life that weighed me down. I suddenly recognized all my energy that pooled into the things that didn’t matter. Things like unhappy vertical decorations on hangers.

Over the course of the last 3 years cancer has taught me this great truth. Things don’t matter. And if it is gobbling your energy and time and it is not building anyone up, it’s time to ditch the task… or item. So, I have started what I call The Out-y 500.


I can’t resist. It’s just too much joy I’m going to burst. Continue reading