With age comes wisdom. And some pouting.

Mama and sisters 1, 4 and 5

I turned 29 yesterday. I had been dreading 29...it feels very old which I know sounds obnoxious. I'm not the type to dread aging. In fact, I've always looked forward to being 40 and having my shit together due to all the wisdom I plan to acquire by then. But 29...eh. It feels more like one of those ages when a status report on life comes in and on paper I'm pulling straight C's. I like to think that what I lack in quantifiable success I more than make up for in raw rationalization. Hopefully this carries me through my thirties too.

Ten years ago, when I turned 19, I spent the day working a double at a restaurant and then drove from NH to Boston to have a little celebration and cake with my sister who had an apartment there and my mom who drove up from RI to meet us. Yesterday, my mom and I started the day off back at the hospital. In order to guard against renal failure, they had her come in the day after chemo to have some blood drawn for immediate reading. If her creatinine levels were too high she would have either needed to get more IV fluid or be admitted to the hospital. When she and I followed Rachel, her oncology nurse, into a small room for the results, the mood was heavy.

"I've never seen labs look this good," Rachel said.

Holla!

She said my mom looked great for the day after chemo and her blood work showed that she was doing great. Rachel attributed this to my mom's attention to keeping hydrated upon going home and my mom has since said that all the healthy food we've been pumping her with boosted her immune system and provided some resilience.

Either way, fucking thrilled would be an understatement. As with her last two chemo treatments, the days directly following do prove to be "up" days for my mom due to the steroidal function of the Decadron. Tomorrow would be when things would start to slip if they're going to.

But it's not tomorrow yet and it wasn't tomorrow yesterday. After almost two hours at the hospital we returned to my parents' home for a visit and lunch with a couple of my sisters out on the back deck. Later, we all headed down to the beach and watched my three-year-old nephew run around while we took pictures of him and each other in front of the river. I told Dan all week that I wasn't sure how I wanted to spend the day since so much would hinge on how my mom was feeling. Turns out, I was the tired one. In an attempt to surprise me Dan made dinner plans behind my back which, if I'm being honest, stressed me out. I just wanted to take the day as it came---no plans and, more specifically, nobody else's plans hinging on fickle me. I wanted to be noncommittal to everyone and everything. After getting pedicures with Cherie (thanks, Chirl!) I decided at the very last minute that I could handle a meal out and Dan had to change the reservation to accommodate my ever-tardy brain. I know it sounds like I was being a spoiled brat---I won't even say that I wasn't---but I just couldn't know if I was going to be able to find the mental energy to bring a fork to my mouth in a public place. As a last-minute thing, Chirl and Pete joined Dan and me for Italian fare at a little BYOB spot. I ate veal. I know... The mental hangover is not worth it, I've decided. We ordered coconut key lime cake for dessert (which was not good) and they all sang to me before I blew out the table candle. I made a big wish.

So 29 is here. My mom is still doing well. Dan and I are about to head out on the kayaks. I'd say a celebration of life is still occurring.



P.S. Here's the story...of a girl named Lola...who was playing with her new compuuuuuter...



This is a picture of 29-year-old maturity. BFF Mattie introduced me to iChat (Mac's version of Skype, I guess) so he and I chatted a la Jetson phone for an hour and a half the other night. I was so nervous about the whole thing at first---I felt like I was on Oprah---but by the end I was like a silly teenager and kept flashing Matt just because I could. Bra on folks, this is a family blog. (No, it's not.) I should also point out that Matt doesn't care much for ta-tas, mine or any other girl's so there was no cheating on the husband involved. (But if you did like them you'd like mine best, right?)

Yours in boundless maturity,
Lola