Super Sister

Harrison came from school today scratched, bleeding, and understandably upset. "Look" he said as he unveiled his elbow. "I'm bleeding". After kissing, consoling, and band-aiding, I asked what had happened. Turns out his friend was bugging him the whole walk home from school. This guy was grabbing Harrison's backpack and pushing him and pulling him with it until Harrison finally bit the dust, sacrificing his elbow to protect his handsome little face.

Then Abigail came walking in the door. "Harrison's friend pulled him down on the way home from school". "I know", I said "but he's better now". Abigail then took off her jacket to reveal her cape. "I grabbed that kid by his backpack and got right in his face and yelled at him that he better never touch my brother ever again. I told him to knock it off right then."

Excellent. Our training has paid off. She stood up for and protected her brother. Nice. We watch out for each other around here, I tell you what. You mess with one Brammer, you get us all. And that should strike fear into the heart of any contender, considering how many of us there are.

Super Abigail to the rescue. Our hero. I love her more than any super power would permit.

It's Official

Although the test came back positive months ago, and I have been rudely waking up the bottom of the toilet very early every morning for weeks and weeks, I didn't officially become pregnant until today.

Today I broke out the maternity clothes.

There is one problem with me and maternity clothes. It seems that whenever I'm not expecting, the maternity clothes are cute, fashionable, and cheap. They actually look like something a real person would wear, and in the daylight even. Whenever I am pregnant, however, the maternity clothes turn into big (and I mean BIG) rolls of fabric that some poor 2nd grade class tried to make into a pop-up tent or a big duffel bag to haul the soccer balls out to recess, but failed miserably. They then use these massive failures as the selections for my entire maternity wardrobe. In fact, the uglier the maternity clothes, the more convinced my sisters are that I'm pregnant, even before we have announced it. They'll pull out one of the hideous selections from the rack and say "oh, you're totally pregnant". And low and behold, I am!! I dislike maternity clothes, intensely.

As soon as I begin wearing my maternity clothes, I end the "doesn't my little bulging belly make me feel feminine" feeling, and just feel like a big beer bellied cow. A big cow trying to cover her beer belly with a giant turquoise flowery poncho with sleeves. Usually puffy sleeves. Ugh.

Jeb has even ventured into the way too expensive, uppity, snobbish maternity stores, that usually don't allow us to enter, to see if he can find something that could be considered marginally attractive. He would have paid whatever the price to make me feel better about my homely appearance. He came out empty handed. If, however, we went into those same stores right after I have had a baby, we would stand there open jawed at all the lovely choices.

It has to be some kind of curse. That or a terrible, terrible, extremely mean joke. One more thing to put on my list of why these kids owe me big time. "We had to drive to the hospital in the worst snow storm of the century when I was in labor with you! And then, when we got there, my labor lasted for 197 hours! And the anesthesiologist was busy for 196 1/2 of those hours! And, to top it all off, I had to wear the ugliest clothes you can imagine once my waist disappeared!!" Oh, they will pay, these kids. They will pay.

I Love Boring

No, not Jeb. Although I do, and he is.

The older I get (and some days that feels so very old), the more I appreciate the same old, same old of boring life. Change is not good, exciting is not so exciting, and predictability is the dream.

At mom's appointment today, boring was the answer. All the test results were reported as "stable, stable, no growth, and stable". Those words have never sounded so wonderful. This means our boring old plans of a normal, traditional, exactly the same as last year's holiday. We can plan out the rest of the year with nothing but hope and happiness for the future. Can there be a better blessing than that of knowing exactly what to expect? I can't think of one right now.

Mom does still have to go every 3 weeks for maintenance drugs. Although, they are taking out the bone strengthener. I told you that one was useless, didn't I? Her powers dwarf any old medicinal strengthener. Sometimes those medical people underestimate her. Me, though? Never. I've seen her tackle 9:00 church meetings on Sunday mornings with 3 girls in curlers. I've seen her do an entire birthday party with only a microwave at her disposal (it was a lemon cake, thank you, and it was delicious). I've seen her do Thanksgiving dinner for what felt like a thousand people, and she was wonderful. Just like she will be this Thanksgiving. See? The same old, same old is fantastic.

Good job, mom.

Another Round of Testing for Mom

Hi, all.

Mom's scheduled to have another big day of testing tomorrow, Tuesday the 17th. She has been off of chemo since the end of June, and has been doing so well! These tests are to see if her lungs have been following her good example.

If you could please keep her in your thoughts and prayers, just to give those cute little lungs of hers that extra bump of encouragement they need to keep the tumors at bay. And while you're at it, maybe whisper a word of encouragement for the CT workers who have to hear it from my sainted (but still German blooded) mother for making her drink the pre-CT smoothie. Those poor people just don't get paid enough for that.

We'll have the results hopefully by Wednesday. I'll keep you posted.


Love,

Robyn

Certifiable

I love April. It's one of the best months. It's actually the official start of all the good months, in my opinion. There is a lot to love about April. For your consideration, in chronological order:

- It's the first full month of Spring. Winter doesn't have even one day of April in its bitter frozen hands.

- April holds the best holiday EVAH - Easter. Easter totally has Halloween and Christmas beat around the block and back again. It's got them beat from here until next Tuesday. It's got them beat like the coug's at homecoming. You get the idea.

- April 5th is due to bring the 5th baby Brammer to our crazy, padded walled, straight jacket outfitted family. The day after Easter!!! We couldn't have planned it better.

- April 22nd is Earth Day. Now, I'm no Al Gore or anything, but (and Jeb knew this before he proposed) I am a hippie at heart. If I had been born in a different time period, it would have been yours truly you are always seeing doing the crazy-arms-out-spinning-dance with my long hair and long dress in all the Woodstock video clips. Earth day is groovy and far out.

- April 30th is the loveliest, most fabulous, and all around most remarkable woman's birthday. My sweet mom, of course.


So now you can see why when the weather starts to turn colder, and the leaves begin to change, all my little budding heart can think of is April. Especially this April when our family will finally be complete. I can't wait.