Running, parties and hugs

We have had a busy few days!  I left you with my weekend plans and a promised update on the Ugly Yellow Handbag amongst other things.  I am sitting here with coffee and my favourite Hotel Chocolat chocs (others are available but not as delicious in my humble opinion) so will update...

Sunday was the Newcastle Race for Life and little miss h'ss birthday party.  I was determined to go and wave the lovely babywearing ladies off at the start especially as they were wearing my name. Thanks to it being my week off I was feeling really well so I was able to go.  In fact, I took my lovely new bike and eldest master Hunter came too.  It is not often I spend time with him on his own so thought this would be a great opportunity.  We both cycled to the park and met up with the ladies, who were every bit as fantastic as I imagined, I particularly loved seeing the lovely little baby cuddled up next to her mummy.  Reminded me of wearing the boys when they were tiny, brought back a flood of new mum emotions which mingled immediately with the remembering of what is happening and what cancer will take away from our children.  I have to admit to having never ran the Race for Life or even attended one in the past.  I have thought often on this since my diagnosis, my previous lack of real engagement with any cancer charity barring the odd donation I made to my random charity each month.  I feel ashamed of myself and guilty that only now am I really understanding what raising money for cancer research actually really means to those affected.  I felt a massive rush of gratitude to all those running including those brave people themselves who took part even though clearly they were struggling with their own battle.  This has to be rectified, it is on my to do list.  In the words of a certain miser 'There are a great many back payments due'.  I shed a few tears at the amazing atmosphere, it is tangible in the air the sense of bravery and determination by all who take part.  I also met another lady who has breast cancer.  She was lovely and quietly determined to fight with all the strength she has in her body and will not let it beat her, people's bravery in this situation humbles me constantly.  I hugged older master H a lot while we were standing there waiting for the start.  He didn't used to let me hug him much until recently, so now I take advantage and squeeze in as many as I think I can get away with!

A had organised a play bus for little Miss H for later, they did the food and the children played on so no mess in the house or much effort required from us.  Perfect.  I heartily recommend it.  The children were so excited when they saw the bus and Izzy was made up with it.  Older Master T even enjoyed himself, despite him feeling he was 'too old'... Some of the parents and I sat in the sunshine in the garden and chatted over coffee and cake which was incredibly civilised and I got the chance to thank them for helping us in person.  Many of the parents at the school have overwhelmed us with their generosity of time and practical things and we are eternally grateful to them.  They have helped make a really rotten time that bit easier.  I managed not to shed a tear all afternoon.  I had been doing so well.  Then when everyone had gone Izzy brought me a new book to read, The Singing Mermaid, a new Julia Donaldson book.  I adore her stories and have read most of them over and over again to the children as they grow up.  In fact, these are the books I am videoing myself reading for the children to watch when I am no longer here.  We cuddled up on our bed and read the book, then Izzy gave me a huge cuddle and said I love you Mummy, I don't want you to die.  I just dissolved, really full on burst into tears, that kind of snot everywhere deep breath snatching crying that physically hurts. I held her so hard that I soaked her hair but she didn't let go or move away.  Fuck You Cancer.  How dare you take me away from my children?  I am welling up now telling you about this in fact.  That night, Izzy and Ruairidh slept in our bed.  A slept on the much smaller than him sofa.  How wonderful is he?

Monday was quiet but good.  Friends had the boys so A and I could go wig and ring shopping then go for some lunch.  Can't remember the last time we did anything like that.  Shame it takes terminal illness to push you to do it.  Do it often, take the time out to spend with each other, you are both important.  You never know.  The wig shop was tucked away, hidden, in fact you had to be let in and were locked in.  I felt like I was in a really naughty sex shop.  Not shopping for my new 'appliance'.  You have to laugh.  The lovely assistant was fantastic though, really kind and understanding, she immediately got to work trying to find me a wig similar to my own hair in colour and style.  I said I would quite like a different one, if I have to have a wig why not take the opportunity to try something completely different?  So I got a red stripey bob and a lovely long one still to come on order...think I will have that in blond...go all Farrah Fawcett Major's...why not eh?  We also chose a new wedding band to replace the stolen one.  I adore it.  Izzy will love it even more when she receives it.  As she will in due time.

This week I have also been busy pushing the Ugly Yellow Handbag, my charity auction for Team Verrico, this handbag has been raising money for small unknown charities before but landed in my possession for me to auction off.  I have been so busy talking to regional BBC radio shows and even Radio 4's PM programme.  We knew in order to get a decent amount of money we needed to get this to go viral on social media and to make use of the media.  I don't want to court sensationalist media to benefit personally from my story.  It feels very wrong to do so plus we do value our privacy, yes I appreciate I am blogging about my deepest personal feelings but to me there still seems to be a sense of privacy about that daft as it sounds.  Going widespread in popular publications affords no privacy and would open us as a family up to the full public gaze and all that brings with it be that for good or ill.  What I will do though is talk to the media for Team Verrico to benefit financially and to raise their profile.  We spanked the backside out of that little bag and spent an enjoyable evening watching the auction with excitement as the total gradually rose to the eventual sale of just over £1000.  How fantastic eh?  I think people are amazing!  The company who won the bag have gone even further than I had even hoped to believe in that they are also raising money for Team Verrico.  This made me cry again.  So glad I keep two boxes of tissues in handy reach.  The auction and the incredible kindness of the bags new owner made me smile so much yesterday.  That is no mean feat lately either so I thank all of you who shared, bid or followed the bag from the bottom of my heart.

Today we both attended Little Miss H's reception year celebration.  I have been looking forward to this but worried about crying too much.  Only when I got to school did I realise I forgot the tissues.  D'oh.  A mum came to the rescue though and as suspected they were required, though I wasn't the only one thankfully.  I had Ruairidh on my knee and we danced and clapped along with children as they sang and danced their way through the talent show.  Then they sang 'Every Little Thing Going to Be Alright'.  Blub.  Okay.  Got me.  Wasn't ready for the emotion that my little girl singing that song with great gusto would have on me.  On the plus side was pleased to note that one thing she won't be suffering from when I am gone is a lack of confidence.  That fills me with pride.

I will leave it there, chemo on Thursday, will be on my own though as my buddy can't be here.  I will miss her.  I will take my Facebook buddies with me though.  Seven yawning hours to fill, the chemo project will get some hammering and might even do my weekly shop, I pay for the wifi so might as well get value for money.

Take care for now x