Grey is not gorgeous

I try not to brag, but I've been sporting a new accessory.

I deserve it!  It celebrates two births, a million sleepless nights, and approximately 50 courses of Ari on steroids.  It reminds me of the stress and the sad from the last year and a half.  It signifies maturity and womanhood.  And it is a sign of the deep love in my life.

This new accessory of mine is lush and plentiful!  And it's sparkles and shines and glistens and glimmers.  It is colorless and flawless.  In the sunshine, it reflects light.  With the snow covered ground and the bright winter sun, it's actually blinding. 

And I can't wait to get rid of it.  Push present?  More like, push penalty.

Adios grey hair.
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A quick update - Ari is halfway through a steroid course.  In a few weeks, he will have another steroid/chemo course, a lumbar puncture, some time to recover, and then... we leave for Disney World!

When we return home, he will have 4 more months of treatment.  Excited?  Nope.  I'm petrified. (See this blog post for the exact way I feel about the end of treatment)

Back to Disney... I'm pumped.  We have park tickets, hotel reservations, and a rental car reserved.  We have summer clothes and swim suits and a whole lot of sunscreen.  We need dining reservations and tips (anyone?) and a crash diet or a juice cleanse and some new sandals.  And then we're off to the Happiest Place on Earth.  I may even shave my legs for the occasion!

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Love letter

Dear Josephine,

I found the present you left in Ari's school bag. 

Ari tried to hide it from me, but I knew something was up.  First, he hung his own backpack on the hook.  Then, he told me he did not leave any half-eaten food products in the zippered pouches (which never happens).  And finally, the give-a-way, he shrieked with rosy-cheeked embarrassment "noooo mommmmmy" when I tried to look through the bag myself. 

What could he be hiding in there?  A live animal?  A dirty diaper?  A stolen pack of gum?

But oh my god little girl.  It was the last thing I expected to see. 

I saw it neatly folded in the very bottom of his bag.  I opened it up, studied it closely, and smiled.  My first thought?  That's cute.  Then I nervously chuckled and pondered how this could happen at such a young age.  And after a few minutes, smiles turned to sadness and laughter to lament.

Your little gift was much more than an innocent picture.  It was, in fact, the very first sign of his loss of innocence.

So listen up sweetie.  You are a nice girl and you come from a good family.  Your long blonde curls may bounce in the wind and your beautiful blue eyes may sparkle in the sunshine.  I see the way he holds your hand and walks by your side.  And I am the first to admit he is a catch.  My Ari is special and smart and funny and caring and damn good looking. 

But you're only 3.  And I'm not ready to be a grandma.

Hands off my man.  Cool?

Love,
Ari's Mommy

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