My mom has put up with all my grouchiness this week and shown me support that I cannot fathom. Do you ever have those moments when you look at your parents, spouse, friends, and think, “My God. I don’t know how they are being so nice to me. I’m a total pain!” I realized that yesterday after screaming at her and listening to her say, “Honey, I’m sorry you are stressed. Talk to me. What is going on.”
She should have told me I was being a cranky bitch and hung up, but instead, she found some sort of super-human patience (that maybe comes with parenthood?) and was sweet and caring. It was exactly what I needed and I felt so much better after having her listen to what was going through my mangled, grouchy mind.
I love that woman.

The bad mood has lifted and God knows you don’t come here to read about my annoying complaints in life. Rex is starting chemo today. Thanks for all of your kind thoughts and comments. Today is also his birthday, if you can imagine. Earlier in the week, he mentioned being hungry for an apple pie.

A great apple pie

With a bit of help from my grandma, a couple of hours worth of prep and my teeny home smelling like cinnamon and nutmeg, voila — an apple pie. I’ve never gotten the knack of rolling pie crust. My crusts always seem a bit off. Not this one. For irony’s sake, this one came out just right.

Apple pie

Why ironic? Oh, because Rex cannot eat today. He is on a fast for the chemo. No one told me. So when I showed up this morning to greet him with gifts and his favorite dessert, he begged me to get it out of the room. He couldn’t have water, much less sweets. (Note to self: nice move, dumbass.) The opportunistic and hungry hospital staff, however, loves me and I figure that can’t hurt Rex. So, whatever. Someone will enjoy it.

Another friend’s birthday is tomorrow — the perfect reason to stay up until the wee morning to sew, after a hard swim last night.

First swing bag

I’m not thrilled with the way this looks in the photo, but it is actually quite cute. I used Amy Butler’s swing pattern, minus the bow. I think we all agree — giant bow = fugly.

First swing bag, open

The bag is lined with some fabulous African fabric Jen brought me from Namibia. Speaking of Jen, I get to see her tonight! And have dinner at one of my best friend’s homes. They are sisters-in-law, you see.

I hope you have a peaceful weekend filled with great food and friends!