Blog a la Cart

Strawberry Fields Forever

On Sunday, we visited a local farm to indulge in the start of strawberry season! One more reason why I adore life in the country. We had the field almost entirely to ourselves. Auntie Kimmy was visiting, and this was the perfect activity to end a relaxing Vermont weekend of quarry swimming, picnic table dinners, and days spent playing en plein air.

The kids consumed their weight in berries, and as soon as they’d fill their baskets, they’d be promptly emptied, directly into their bellies. Kaki delighted in even eating the most unripe strawberries. She doesn’t discriminate against such yumminess.

It made my heart ache with nostalgia to see Courtland wearing a dress from Sunny’s toddlerhood. Damn that onslaught of time! And yet, I am getting glimpses of how incredible life will also be as the girls get older. Kimmy, Sunny and I shared a special girls’ playdate up in Manchester, VT where we went out to lunch, did a little shopping (can I get a HELL YES for the Marimekko Outlet?! Dangerous, very dangerous indeed), and then lounged and swam at the local quarry. It was such an easy relaxed day without diapers, and wipes, and changes of clothes, and nap schedules, and I see just how liberating and engaging and different (not better or worse, just different) life will be when they both reach that stage of more independence. But I’m still reveling in my needy toddler and all of her endearing bear hugs and snuggles.

And, we’ll be doing this all over again this weekend to fully take advantage of this fleeting season! Non nom nom STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE!

Solstice Bear

Happy 8th Birthday to our Inky Stinky Black Beauty, Ursa Major Solstice.

We are feeling so grateful to have made it to this milestone. We’re baking doggie treats and shall celebrate and shower her with tennis balls this evening. After, of course, insisting that she done the birthday headband of honor, a Cart staple since Sunny’s 1st birthday.

Happy Summer to all! Happy Birthday to Ursa!

J&J

As a going away present to Jen & Josh, I snapped photos of the two of them at one of their favorite places in town (a Universal favorite, I’d wager). They would want me to state that this was in no way an engagement shoot. But dang, are they not the cutest couple you’ve ever seen? I don’t think it’s possible to snap a bad picture of Jen. GORGEOUS! Here are my favorites from our afternoon together.

We miss you two!

Currently Quoting

Yup. One more reason why diets and scales are ancient history chez Cart. I’ve never felt so liberated and happy and content in my own skin than when I kicked the scale to the curb. The number it reflected never adequately captured my overall wellness. It didn’t speak to my body’s level of fitness or the kinds of foods I was feeding it. In fact, often when I was dieting, I was my most unhealthy. A daily regime of diet soda to try to fill that gnawing hunger is by no means healthy. If you know you are feeding your body with nutritious, balanced meals and maintaining some regular semblance of exercise, then your body is at the weight it is supposed to be. You shouldn’t be trying to mold it into something it’s not. If you are truly living a balanced, healthy lifestyle, then there is no need for diets, or extreme exercise, or depravation. Your body is exactly as it should be. And no image in a magazine should ever make you think otherwise. No person should ever make you feel otherwise. I worry about this more than most things when I think about raising two girls. How do I teach them to love and embrace a healthy size for THEIR bodies? It has to start with me. I’m trying to teach by example. Imagine the cultural shift that would happen for women in this country if we all did just that? It shouldn’t be revolutionary, and yet…

Where It Began

It would seem that the past few months of chaos and preparation for my yearly work tour de force have caught up with me. I am currently laid out in bed with the aches. From head to throat to muscle, I’m creaky and weak and only capable of writhing around horizontal. And that’s about it. Our bodies have a way of forcing us to take a pause if we don’t do so on our own volition. So, you win, BIOLOGY.

But a day in bed has granted me permission to indulge in activities that are rarely a part of my daily routine. I just finished rereading Pride & Prejudice for this week’s book club, and I am going to take a moment and say that I had positively no business reading that delicious piece of literature as a sixteen year old. I clearly did not pick up on all the wit and humor and delight that is so at the heart of that novel. What a joy it’s been to revisit. And I fully intend on finally viewing the Keira Knightley movie remake from 2005 later today. After yet another nap, of course.  We’re reading Death Comes to Pemberley as our next book (which was just published this January), so we thought it wise to reread the classic before diving into this new extension on the original. Anyone read it? Any suggestions for our next book? We’re always looking for ideas.

I also wanted to take this time to transcribe something I’d written back in the spring of 2005 during my Women and Gender Studies senior seminar titled The Politics of the Family. When our basement flooded a few weeks back, James unearthed a series of crates filled with notebooks from our college days, and while flipping through their contents I came across the journal I kept during that semester’s course. A place where I filed my reflections on whatever topic we had covered in class that week. It was wonderful to read the entry I’d written in reaction to our section On Childbirth. It was proof that indeed my thoughts and personal experiences and approach to childbirth began taking shape during that course. If only I could tell Ashley at twenty-two that she would live out much of these thoughts and perspectives only a few years later. It was really so affirming to have that thought process so tangibly revealed and reminded me of why this blog in many respects has been an extension of that journal and that class, lived out “in real life.” Thank you, Prof. Kent, for opening my eyes and teaching me how to put language to the often privatized experiences of womanhood.

I am not at my most eloquent in this entry, but I am sharing regardless:

Oh my – childbirth sounds so painful and, well, scary. Hearing so many stories about how childbirth can go wrong, it makes me understand where this medicalized birthing originated – this great fear due to the rare cases when things don’t go as planned. Reading home birth stories, however, really made me want to experience childbirth in the privacy and comfort of my own home. Clearly, the birthing experience is extremely personal and individual for each woman – some, I’m sure, are not interested in the birthing process whatsoever while others place a very great emphasis on the actually act of birth. I guess I don’t know where I stand just yet – I tend to fluctuate between wanting a midwife at home who has a trusted relationship with me and my partner – who can support me through that process but allow me to take ownership of my experience – to wanting the other extreme – “Drug me up and C-section this baby out! I can’t handle the pain!” I’m sure if/when I’m pregnant, I will educate myself more intensely and figure out where I stand more clearly. I like the idea of having a midwife whether I chose home birth or hospital birth – in either case working with someone who has developed an understanding of my values in regard to pregnancy.

I’ve never thought of birth in a romantic or spiritual sense – but the entire thing seems pretty damn amazing. Just the thought of producing another human being blows my mind. Talking to my mom about her birth story with me, I had this moment when I thought, “OH MY GOD, I WAS INSIDE MY MOM!”  It really is mind blowing. It is an outrageously awe-some ability to bear children, but I realize that every woman is going to respond to it differently. Ultimately, I see the most important thing (after ensuring the health of mom and baby) as the woman’s personal needs/wants. I understand that in some circumstances this will need to be compromised when things “go wrong,” but as a general rule, it’s clear that trying to have the experience as close to how the woman wishes it is SO important!

I know that the medical insurance system limits a doctor’s ability to do this – and that midwifery is carefully monitored and easily susceptible to lawsuits – so women really need to take it upon themselves to educate themselves about pregnancy, childbirth and their own bodies. Women must be empowered to educate themselves about their bodies – to know and understand our bodies so that there is less fear when we are pregnant. I would love to be in a place where I trusted my body to handle childbirth naturally and without intervention. Of course, that’s assuming that all goes well, but I would like to at least go into the birth process assuming it will because I have a strong and empowered understanding of my body and what women’s bodies are thus capable of. 

And how cool that I did indeed get to do just that. Twice.

Jamescapes // 11

It’s been forever since we’ve showcased James’ work, but I had to share this snap because wow.

Fire Pit

Summer on the farm. *swoon!*

We’ve officially broken in our fire pit. Why we didn’t put it to use last year is beyond me, but fortunately, we have remedied that oversight and have filled our bellies with s’mores, beer, and laughter on multiple occasions. Our dear friends Jen and Josh have departed for the west – so we spent one final night basking in the beginnings of a New England summer and leaving them with many a happy memory so that one day they might be lured back to the collegiate motherland.

As we revel in the warmth of our newly christened fire pit, it’s essential to remember the importance of fire safety, even amidst the joyous gatherings and cherished moments. Ensuring a safe distance between the fire and any flammable materials, keeping a watchful eye on the flames, and having a bucket of water or sand nearby for emergencies are simple yet crucial precautions to take.

Just as we carefully tend to the flames to create unforgettable evenings with friends, let us also tend to the safety measures that protect both our property and loved ones. With a mindful approach and a sprinkle of caution, we can continue to enjoy the magic of our fire pit gatherings for years to come, creating lasting memories and strengthening the bonds of friendship under the starlit sky. And for added peace of mind, consider enlisting the expertise of Texas Fire Watch Services, ensuring professional oversight and adherence to safety protocols during your outdoor gatherings.

*hinthintWEMISSYOUhinthint*

24/52

“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013.”

Sunny: A pause during Father’s Day brunch at our favorite cafe to pose for the camera. An unusual moment of acquiescence.
Kaki: Moments before a yogurt bath.

More details about The 52 Project here. To view all the portraits in the series visit here.

Happy Papa’s Day

To the guy that taught me confidence through example and cheerleading. Thanks for being my number one fan, Doda. And for championing Momar and believing in her so that I might learn what kind of partner I deserved.

And to the guy who lived up to those expectations. And who holds his own and holds us together in this household full of females.

Happy Father’s Day.

Malignant Histiocytosis

Nearly six weeks ago, we were told that Ursa had (probably) 4-6 weeks left to live.

She is currently lounging (like the Queen of Sheba) on our Victorian sofa, thumping her tail feverishly whenever I look over and give her a hint of attention, gauging whether or not to leap down and retrieve her tennis ball. Hedging her beats, always in the name of that dang ball.

So much for 4-6 weeks! We’re feeling beyond lucky that she has blown all of our expectations out of the water.

Yesterday, we took her to the vet to do a chest scan and see what was happening internally. Six weeks ago, when the tumor where her left leg once stood reappeared, we discovered 3 masses (mets) on her lungs (in addition to the superficial tumor on her shoulder). This is what prompted the 4-6 prognosis. Typically, once the cancer has spread to the lungs, the mortality rate is not good. 4-6 weeks is typical.

I’m going to rewind a minute to take you back to the beginning of our journey with Ursa’s cancer, as I know that many people find this blog now due to their own struggles with canine cancer. If you are one of them, welcome and I am so so sorry that that is what has brought you here. If nothing else, trust that this experience will bring you that much closer to your pet and make you that much more appreciative and acutely aware of your best friend’s presence and love. You’ll learn to cherish every extra tail wag and butt rub.

Ursa began limping in December of 2011. She was born June 21, 2005 and is a purebred Flat-Coated Retriever, so she was 6.5 years old when the problems first manifested. When the limp lasted for more than a week, we took her to the vet, and they determined that she probably just had a strained muscle from a run in with Hanna (i.e. The Brick Wall). The limp persisted, even after “crate rest,” so we brought her back in and were told she had tendinitis in her bicep. After hour long car trips to a special veterinary physical therapist for appointments walking in an underwater treadmill, and an absurd amount of money later, the limp STILL persisted, and she was already functioning as a 3-legged beast (she couldn’t use that left leg at all at this point). I kept saying to James that something much more serious was wrong. Why weren’t we just taking the leg off?

Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. And SO EXTREME to even suggest amputation, but I had this terrible feeling in my gut that something else was amiss.

Over Addison’s birthday weekend in May of 2012, a distinct tennis ball sized mass appeared on her upper left shoulder seemingly over night. One day it wasn’t there, the next it was undeniable. We brought her in and almost instantly were told it was cancer when a blood draw pulled up cancer cells, and then a biopsy confirmed that the leg needed to come off, like yesterday.

Many people were surprised when we opted for amputation, somehow thinking it cruel or inhumane. Our vet explained, however, that given Ursa’s athleticism, age, and general spunk and vigor, that she was an ideal candidate for such a surgery and would be just as happy and energetic and capable on three legs as she was on four. She said that canine amputation was not at all like when a human being loses a limb, and that a dog is none the wiser when they lose an appendage. She explained that amputation was not a cure, but a way of relieving the extreme amounts of pain that Ursa was in and was a way to help prolong life if paired with chemotherapy. For validation, I took to Google and landed on the Tripawds site. That community confirmed our decision to amputate and gave us so many resources, so much guidance, and so much support as we prepared for her surgery. We chose amputation as a pain management and quality of life measure. And we don’t regret that decision for a second.

She recovered from her surgery beautifully, and just two weeks post-op began a six month round of chemotherapy. We were fortunate that James’ Godfather is a veterinary pathologist, so he did the analysis of Ursa’s limb and cancer and determined that it was not osteosarcoma (bone cancer, and an aggressive and nasty one at that, the kind that is most typical in her breed and very swiftly deadly), but malignant histiocytosis. This cancer is less common in Flat-Coats and attacks important bodily tissues (i.e. the immune system, i.e. the lungs, lymph nodes, etc.). Pete told us that dogs on average live 400 days from the time of diagnosis (Ursa is currently right around that time frame, so we were not completely shocked when the tumor reappeared last month). With this information, we drove to Boston for a consultation with NEVOG (a veterinary oncology group) and they recommended the treatment plan that our vet was able to administer from home. We began her treatments in late June of 2012 and continued administering them monthly (literally, James gave it to her at home – man, chemo for dogs is SO different than with humans). For those interested in the specifics, she alternated oral doses every four weeks of the chemotherapeutics CCNU (Lomustine) and Cytoxan (Cyclophosphamide). We had to take her in for regular white blood cell count checks after each administration and before beginning the next round of treatment each month. Fortunately, she did very very well. She never slowed down or showed signs that the treatments gave her any discomfort whatsoever. Up until six weeks ago, she was completely energetic, active, and full of life.

Then the tumor, once again, seemingly overnight, reappeared. When I think back in retrospect, her appetite had been waning and she had slowed down a bit on our walks. Again, we shouldn’t have been surprised given all that we knew about this cancer’s presentation and the one year timeline that had been predicted. When we brought her to the vet, we discovered the mets on her lungs and began preparing to say goodbye. The tumor on her shoulder doubled in size in mere days and literally cracked open leaving a gaping, oozing, nasty wound. Ursa refused to eat, even human food, and could barely get up from her bed. I thought we were going to have to put her down exactly one week from when the tumor reappeared given her rapid decline.

But our vet, and the doctors at NEVOG, looked at her scans and her chart and thought it was worth trying more chemotherapy coupled with daily rounds of Eastern herbal medicine to help direct and target the mets.

The chemo, this time, seemed to disable Ursa more than ever (we used the same treatment plan), and I was beside myself feeling like we’d only added suffering to an already dying animal. James stayed unwaveringly optimistic. Ursa had a great energy and spirit for life, he trusted our vet and wanted to see what the Eastern medicine could do. We began the following combination of supplements a few days after the chemo:

1.5g twice a day of Lily Combination for her lungs

1.5g twice a day of Wei Qi Booster for her immune system and to boost her appetite

1.5 g twice a day of Conc Stasis Breaker to target the tumors

Yep, that’s nine pills, twice a day. Girl eats a jar of peanut butter a week and doesn’t seem to mind in the least. It was after we’d started these supplements that her tumor wound began to heal, and once fully recovered, the mass itself completely disappeared. Her appetite came back with a vengeance, as did her tennis ball addiction. Ever since, she’s been herself. An immature, happy, glorious furry black ball of energy and spunk. Our Ursa.

Yesterday, the vet confirmed that two of the three mets in her lungs had completely disappeared. Sadly, the third has grown in size. A reminder that while we may have more time with her than initially predicted, the cancer is still very much present and looming. Right now, Ursa is back to her old tricks, but we’ll be watching for signs of decline. If we’ve been able to buy her one final summer of play, and see her through to her 8th birthday next weekend, I am grateful. And I am happy to spend the money and endure a twice daily peanut butter bath to maintain this quality of life and joy for our family.

Who knows if it’s the chemo, or the Eastern supplements, or a combination thereof that has given us these extra days/weeks. But it doesn’t matter to us. What matters is that Ursa is back to flourishing, and we want to maintain that for as long as she is able. Our house will not be the same without her ever-constant spark, so we’re basking it in it while we can.

Photo: Courtesy of Amanda Jones