"Did I Hear a 'Niner' In There?"

There she is! My nine year-old. This picture is rare because she doesn't sit in my lap very often anymore. She's too old for that. She has moved on to things like: getting braces, doing her own hair, diving into musical theater, and asking theological questions that sometimes I can't answer without research.

This year, to celebrate, she wanted a luau complete with a real pig on a spit and an apple stuffed in its mouth. Seeing as her dad has gone all vegan on us, that wasn't going to happen. But he did take her out shopping for decorations and they found a paper pig with an apple stuffed in its mouth. To say she was delighted would be an understatement. Cayna, in general, is all about OVERstatement.

On the day of her actual birthday, we went out to dinner with grandparents and that's where this photo is taken. I love my daughter. I love that I HAVE a daughter (two, in fact!), and I love seeing life through her eyes. Last year, she proclaimed her birthday with chalk on a park sidewalk. This year, she simply wrote CAYNA surrounded by the number 9 in crayon on a paper doily. I'm saving it. I want to remember this day because she won't let me hold her on my lap much longer.

News on my Neck

I have a funny lump on my neck. Had an ultrasound the other day, and I have two cysts and a nodule on my thyroid. I don't like the word "nodule," nor "cyst." And here's the REALLY fun news: they're going to stick a needle in my neck to biopsy the sucker and drain it. My doctor, who I want to trust, does not think I have cancer at this point. And in the world of words, I'd rather have a nodule than a cancer.

Here is where I do not like being a grown-up: I do not have anyone to hold my hand while they stick a needle in my neck. In middle school, I had a mole removed from my scalp. They stuck a needle in my head (only one step up from a needle in the neck) to numb the area before they cut off the mole. (Who is still reading this? This is totally gross but I gotta talk about it somewhere.) My mom was there. But now I'm the mom and all of my possible hand-holding resources should probably be watching my kids so they don't have to come to the appointment with me and observe everything and ask the questions I know they would ask: "Mom, what are they going to do with that needle?" "Mom, that needle is really long!" "Mom, what are they going to do with the juice once they take it out of your neck?" "Mom, what's a nodule?" "Mom, does that hurt?" "MOM! Wake up!!! MOM! - Oh, there you are, Mom - you were looking white as a ghost!" "All the stuff came out, Mom. We saw it. It looked like coconut milk." "Are you going to have a bandaid on your neck?"

So please say a little prayer for me. And maybe for all those people out there who are getting news that is scarier than a needle to the neck.