Our very blessed girl...

Guess who turned four?!?!? Brighton J. that's who! I can not believe Daniel and I are parents of a four year old! (and two other little beauties, for that matter.)In the recent past we have had LARGE gatherings for our children's birthdays and while they were fun, we realized that we were missing out on the celebrating. (And footing the bill for a venue and meal for 50+ guests was getting ludicrous.) Mostly, we realized that we were basically carrying on a birthday tradition of our extended families, that doesn't fit the mold of OUR family.

So, Daniel and I decided to scale way back and let Brighton plan the activities, for her day. (genius, eh?) Her requests: we go to the splash pad, to the movies, and out to eat at Applebees. It turned out to be a great idea because her birthday was more meaningful and we were able to afford to get her the things she really wanted. The intimate family gathering helped us to remember that it wasn't just a special day for Brighton, but for us as well. A true celebration filled with gratitude to the Lord for allowing us to care for such a sweet little soul.
Brighton at four is: Smart and sassy.
She loves all things *Rapunzel* which mostly consists of a lot of hair brushing followed by everyone in the vicinity 'witnessing' how long her hair is when it is
A. Wet
B. Just brushed &
C. When she tips her head waaaaay back.


Daniel and I take great pride in raising home grown girls. Girls who have manners, who are kind and smart, who believe in God, have compassion for others, can see the beauty in the world, and can laugh.

Our sweet Brighton girl has raised our every expectation.

She is a girly girl, who loves to get dirty, make art in every form, and dance all over creation. She loves music and has a beautiful singing voice.

She loves the American Flag...don't ask us why, but it makes us proud.

She is fiercely loyal like her father, and loves to make people laugh like her mother.
We could not be prouder to call her our daughter.

....Bullet Hole?

This week waiting on my test results has been agonizing. My mind has drifted to the worst case scenario countless times. Every time my phone rings I run to it, and everyone time I answer it someone is asking me if I got my results back. When I see some of my friends, they give me that look and hug me and say 'hang in there'. Which I really appreciated the first hundred times and now I'm like.....jeez stop treating me like I have cancer! (lol! too soon?)
It has been nearly impossible to get a person with a PHD on the phone, and this morning the receptionist informed me they have no idea where my biopsy results were. So, further instilling confidence that I'm putting my life in the hands of capable people. But they finally called this afternoon and my diagnosis is....*pause for dramatic effect*....

Basal Cell Carcinoma

Which sounds way scary, but in fact it is the most common form of all cancers. Mostly basal cell carcinomas occur on places that receive a lot of sun, but my tumor occurred on my upper inner thigh. Which is partially the reason the doctors were certain it was malignant melanoma, thankfully they were wrong. My cancer grows at a slow rate and can be treated without radiation. But because of the color and depth, and location of my tumor, they have decided to remove it and excise the area around it, the first week of August. The doctor assures me it will look something like a large bullet wound when it heals. Sweet, I guess. This produces cure rates of around 90%. Then, I will have to have regularly bi yearly visits to the dermatologist for the rest of life, because I'm at higher risk for it reoccurring . Basal cell carcinoma rarely metastasizes and rarely is fatal.
Which given what I was lead to believe last week...is a total relief.

My husband and I really just want to thank everyone for the support this last week, and prayers. We feel really grateful to have so many wonderful friends and family members.

Sexy Cancer.

I have had a mark on my leg seemingly since birth, a birth mark if you will. How can something I've had with me my entire life be bad? ....And other thoughts like this have prevented me from getting it looked at, even when it turned black and grew 2x's it's size last year. At my last OBGYN appointment the doctor made me PROMISE emphatically to get it checked out.

I call for an appointment. They can get me in tomorrow. It's too soon. That is too real. I schedule an appointment for a month later. Yesterday.

I brought the kids with me. People with three kids in the waiting room don't get told they have cancer. There is a special needs child in the reception area. About fifteen. He is crying and hitting himself. My kids are scared of him...but I can't think of anything to say. I know how he feels.

I get called in. She asks me about my kids and my pregnancy and then I show her my mark. And she goes and gets someone in a white coat. The white coated person goes and gets someone in scrubs...and he goes and gets someone else in scrubs and...words like scrape, blade, injection, malignant melanoma... biopsy.

I'm trying not to pass out. They cut into my leg. I can't feel it and I'm not watching. Then words the doctors shouldn't use....but they say it because it's an honest reaction. *gasping* "Uh oh", "This doesn't look good", types of words. So, I looked. It's dark black underneath my skin. About the size of a dime. They take pictures and get me a glass of water. They tell me three different results of what this could be. I don't want any of them. But two I can live with. One I can't, maybe literally. It's skin cancer.

They give me a large band aid to go over the wound. And I think...
You just told me I have cancer and I get a glass of water and a band aid?
I can hear that boy in the next room, kicking his wheel chair and screaming. I don't feel so good myself. The doctor says, "don't lose sleep over this, we are sending your sample to a specialized lab and we will call you back in a couple of days." And I say "ok." but I'm thinking....
Is a 'couple' two...or three days....does that count the weekend.... wait...'specialized' lab? Oh my...Jesus....did she just tell me I had skin cancer?

So, I went home and I changed my band aid into a bigger one, because a small band aid shouldn't cover cancer. Then I got this crazy notion that if I can get pretty enough, and look sexy enough this will all go away. So I got in the shower and scrubbed my body. I shaved my legs and painted my nails and did my makeup and put on a dress. Sexy people DO NOT get cancer.
I left the band aid on the entire time, not because the wound isn't supposed to get wet, but because when I look at the unholy black spot on my leg...words like 'Malignant and Melanoma and Cancer' soar into my brain and I forget how to breath. How can one of the whitest women on the planet who has never tanned a day in her life get skin cancer? I'm not a smoker or a drinker, I exercise, I watch what I eat. That's not fair.

So, I am here waiting on my test results. I wasn't sure I wanted anyone to know, but pretending things are normal is not my style. I also did research, which was a terrible idea.

There are two treatments, the first, in layman's terms, for the less aggressive kind of cancer is to determine how far it's spread and cut it out. <---that is what we are hoping for. Doctor said it's about a 60% chance we will be able to do that. The second treatment is unthinkable, so I'm not going to think about it.

There. It's in type. I have skin cancer. But I look good.