Moving on . . . .

Last night and today have been interesting. Poor L. got the stomach bug that's been going around, and so last night I stayed up with her, holding hair and wiping mouth. Washing my hands more times than any manicurist would condone. And as of 4:30 today, we're both still in jammies, recovering. She's eaten, and is now asleep on the shag rug in the kitchen t.v. nook. I'm wondering if I'm coming down with what she's had or just reeling from the ikitude of vomit. I cannot STAND vomit.

But here's what I realized today. On the brink of feeling sorry for myself (. . . my productive day is shot to hell, I can't go get fitted for the new bras I desperately want and need, I feel like crap from being up most of the night . . . ), I re-framed and realized that this is EXACTLY where I want to be. Just a normal mother who's home with a barfing child. This is my WORST PROBLEM today. And that is just so frickin' great. How's that for re-framing finesse?

And to add to my good mood, an email came from the folks at the Cancer Knowledge Network. They've published an essay I wrote on how I learned to meditate during Cancer Round I. And they want more. I have a schedule of their upcoming topics and they want to do a series. Someone wants to hear what I have to say about living with cancer for the last decade?! You can see my latest here. And don't worry, I won't hesitate to shamelessly self-promote here when new stuff comes out.

So here's to sick days and cancer . . . and to good moods in spite of them.

xo,

Sarah