Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

Nothing spells uncomfortable quite like heat and the rhea. The chemo meds and ozempic have given my stomach a run for it’s money. I’m trying to enjoy nature. The first night was a beautiful quiet. My photo did not do it justice but the air was cool and it was silent (we’re also right next to the camp host and the entrance). Note to self: Not a location to repeat. Chad yelled at J because he couldn’t see J cooking on the other side of the RV and thought our fire was unattended. Then yelled at J again that the speed limit is 10mph and that goes for bikers too. At some point J or I may loose our sh*t. For now I haven’t experienced it first hand but that is not required for me to fly off the handle and loose my sh*t. (There is sufficient repressed anger that I hold on to. I just try NOT to release it.)

That anger is not Baba Yaga. She’s a very different beast and we have lived together for as long as I can remember. I get along well with this monster – she doesn’t make me feel the way Baba Yaga does. I consider naming her a long time ago and only Beast was simple enough. Beast protects my heart and turns sadness into rage. When I feel rage, I don’t have room for weak sadness. She takes over and I’m Hulked out without the powers.

Chad wasn’t up our as* today – surprised. I finally got to see dreadlock Karen who looks like a meth addict. It’s definitely a special look. If that’s your look, you do you. Most of my first day of camping was spent very close to the toilet and sleeping when it was at it most miserable heat wise. The nights cool which makes sleeping far more comfortable. Once the camping ends it’s about be be a rough couple of months so this is a YOLO before the storm. I’m scared of what’s to come. Picc, another round of chemo, potential transplant…radiation. All that makes me anxious but J said he feels good about it so I go into it with more confidence. We have always been brutally honest with each other, brutally! If he thinks I’m fat, he’ll tell me I’m fat. If I think he smells foul, we are direct. Whether it be foul odors from the mouth or body, weight gain, checking each others voicemails or emails even if we find someone attractive – we’ve been brutally honest. This gives me comfort that he doesn’t have to make up stuff to make me feel better. He is direct. Very typical of an a*shole…and he is unapologetic about it. I don’t love that he’s an a*shole but I appreciate his completely honesty. So when he says he feels good about this, I am comforted.

Speaking of that brutal honesty; I woke up last night and was furious. The smell was just dreadful. It was thick, hot and putrid. I was deep asleep when the smell hit my nostril and when I woke up I was going to go straight for the jugular. What did you eat?!?! What died in your stomach to release that level of abomination? What’s wrong with you? Who does that? Who just farts like that? As I raised my pillow to waffle stomp his face, I farted and OMG it was the same horrific smell. The person who farted the first time. The person who’s smell woke me up for a deep sleep was ME. I immediately turned the little battery fan on so blow the smell away from him and I. J stayed asleep, he literally ate my stench of a fart …twice. Bless his heart.

J’s alarm woke me up at 4:30am…thanks babe. We are headed to the lake this morning to do some fishing and give the an opportunity to go play and splash at the lake. It’s beautiful but lacks trees to offer shade so we scoped out a few shadier spot at noon which we will head to after breakfast. Though thanks to the alarm I’m already up though I’m incredibly tired still. Back to sleep (at least attempt).