A few of you have written to ask where I’ve gone, and the answer is: everywhere.  Arlington National Cemetery rescheduled Pop Pop’s military services on Greg’s birthday.  I’ve seen some lovely goodbyes, but nothing like a full military funeral in our Nation’s Capital.  The day of GG’s services in Arlington welcomed us with a tsunami like rain that I thought might blow us, soaking wet, right off the sidewalk.  Our first trip to Pop Pop’s services landed us smack in the middle of the great DC Blizzard of 2010.  Last week?  94 degrees and about 1500% humidity.  I carried Sara for a mile behind the horse drawn carriage in heels, and hands down, that was the worst work-out of my life.  I hope I won’t be attending any Arlington services in the near future, because the only weather left to bear are locusts.

We returned home, spent a few days doing mountains of laundry, packed it all back up again, and made our first trek with Grandma, Aunt Jenny, and Cousin Avery to the American Girl Doll store in Chicago.  My Mom has been planning this trip for a year, and it was a destination indeed.  Each girl got to pick out their very own American Girl Doll, despite Kelly’s initial confusion as to the meaning of “pick one out” (she thought she was to pick every single doll out of every single box in the store).  Oh precious joyful day, if I were to translate Sara’s mood into words.  She has yet to let go of Felicity, her Colonial Williamsburg doll.  We ate lunch with their dolls at the American Girl Cafe, and I must say, that event alone rivals anything Disney can offer.

We are happily home, where I can hopefully crawl through my last 9 doses of chemo, which is not going well, hence my lack of presence in this space.  I won’t bore you with my complaints, and only say the side effects are no longer confined to itchy skin.  I’m no longer telling people to wear sunscreen.  I’m just walking around with a can of Neutrogena sunscreen in my hand, randomly spraying strangers with helioplex, yelling behind me, “Thank me later!”  Don’t travel while taking chemo of any kind…another piece of wisdom you can thank me for later.

We had an extraordinarily comfortable and pleasant dinner with friends last night, and as the kids ran through the sprinklers and invented a series of silly games, I felt a wave of relief come over me: home.  We are home.  We are staying here for a spell.  Thanks for waiting.  I will return us to our inconveniently creative lifestyle ASAP, if not sooner.