Sometimes you just have to start. That is where I am right now. Somewhere in the craziness of life, I lost touch with this blog over the last few weeks. My computer was broken. I have a new baby. I have four kids. We are all sick now. I spend literally all day in the kitchen making, eating and cleaning up food (because eating real food is a lot of work!).
The reasons go on and on. I have had so many ideas swirling in my head and when I couldn’t find time to execute them–to get the craft finished or the perfect room shots or the perfect words together on a particular topic, I did nothing.
Actually, I did worse than nothing. I did that thing where even though you aren’t doing anything about said thing, you’re continuously obsessing over, thinking about and feeling guilty about said thing. It needed to stop, so I started.
While that most likely isn’t a blog for you, whatever that thing is, just start. It doesn’t have to be perfect, pretty or groundbreaking–it just has to be done. And the more that IT is done, the more room there is to stumble upon perfect, pretty and ground-breaking. With each thing we do, with each step we take we are getting closer and the more we put out into the world, the more we get back.
I turned 33 in January and then somehow it magically became February and I’m not sure how that happened. It was a very odd birthday. While my family went out of their way to make me feel special, it was an entirely ordinary in so many ways. It was a weekday, the husband had work, the kids had school and mom-duties NEVER take a break.
Our dermatology department shut down, which left me without a dermatologist. While I was pregnant with Fiona, my dear friend’s sister was diagnosed with melanoma. That was the wake-up call I needed to get my butt to the dermatologist. I promised myself when Fiona was out, I would get myself checked.
At my six-week appointment I asked my dermatologist if he had a recommendation and he directed me to someone. I went in for a full skin check. Talk about intimate!
She biopsied a spot on my back and was pretty certain it was cancer. Basal Cell Carcinoma to be exact. So the biopsy came back, and it was. I had cancer.
Which is completely odd when you still think of yourself as 25 and invincible. In the world of cancer this is nothing, but who wants that kind of news ever.
Ironically, on my 33rd birthday, I went in to have my biopsy stitches removed and scheduled the removal of the basal cell carcinoma. Happy birthday to me!
While doing regular mom stuff, getting stitches out and scheduling cancer removal hardly sounds like a fun birthday, because it wasn’t, it was still a good birthday.
Doing those things made me realize how grateful I am for my health and the ordinary. Every minuted of every day there is someone out there wishing for ordinary. Wishing for days of…
Find your coat. Get your shoes. Stop bothering your sister. loading kids in minivans. toddler meltdowns. snuggles. endless nursing. making meals. cleaning up meals. changing diapers. one more bedtime story. collapsing on the couch with the husband and Netflix.
Because life happens and people get news that rocks their world and changes their life. This was a reminder to enjoy those seemingly ordinary moments that add up to ordinary days that make our life.
If you have made it this far in my ramblings I hope you took these things away. Just start. Get your skin checked. Be thankful for the ordinary.
Starting, birthdays & cancer. How is that for a come back?
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