Blogging about life and living it to the fullest. Pretend princess/mermaid. Actual basic southern millennial trophy wife.
Childhood Cancer


Y’all. What in the actual f**k.

This is the phrase that best describes my last 48 hours. Like, it’s been such a bad couple of days, I am sitting in my in-laws’ bathtub (while they are out of town– hope y’all are having fun! Love y’all!!) shoving Reeses down my throat by the handful because those are my go-to’s (Reeses being the stand-in for wine– #preggoproblems) when I am overwhelmed. I have always been a bath girl. Literally nothing compares to the way a good hot bath makes me feel when I’ve had a hard day. And I’ve been living without a good bathtub for two years. It’s been rough, y’all. I know these are total first world problems, but I don’t like old bathtubs. The bathtub in our current house is green, and it’s from the 70’s. Don’t get me wrong– I am so grateful to have a wonderful house to live in, but I long for the day when I have a freaking awesome bathtub. The bathroom is going to be the fanciest part of our house, and I am not even sorry about it.

Anyways, I have had so much on my mind lately, but I haven’t been blogging, and I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry because I need to be blogging. I need to be letting these thoughts and feelings go, or else another today will keep happening. Today, I totally broke down. And I also totally broke down yesterday. Sobbing mess both times. And it happened in public too. Sort of.

I will start with yesterday. Yesterday was a fabulous day. We met a dear friend for lunch at Chick-fil-A, and then we spent the afternoon at EdVenture Children’s Museum. If you are local to South Carolina, and you have children, I highly recommend you get your butts over to this place. It is AWESOME. I cannot believe that I have had kids for three years, and it has taken me this long to get a membership. Years wasted. This place is that cool. It has a million different things for kids to play with– firetrucks, tractors, tires, cars, farm stuff, airplane stuff, a mini golf course, and a giant boy/playground that you can climb inside. The two biggest selling features for me are the fact that it’s air-conditioned (and we all know how hot it gets around here during the summer… #famouslyhot), and it’s enclosed. So if I lose a child, I know that he is somewhere in the building, as opposed to wandering off to God-knows-where. And yes, watching two toddlers at the same time is harder than it looks. Sometimes, one of them runs away (gasp), and since I haven’t gotten around to buying leashes for them (yet– seriously contemplating it though), I can only be so vigilant. I only have two eyeballs and two hands. Being a perfect mom is really damn hard when you have two boys with endless amounts of energy and two formerly athletic parents who’ve obviously passed down the speed genes (which will serve them well when they go out for football– because they’re obviously going to be the most petite ones there. But they’ll be hella fast, I can promise you that). Anyways, my point is, once they become mobile, unless they’re restrained in a stroller, sometimes you’re going to lose a kid. It’s inevitable unless you’re a perfect parent. Which is cool. Props to you. But I’m a mere human, so it’s happened once or twice for me. Here are some of the pics from the million hours we’ve spent there this week. SO FUN!



Anyways, we were wrapping up our time at EdVenture with a round of mini-golf because Colton wanted to play a round oh so badly. And it was adorable, and obviously I can’t say no to that face. Not when he looks like a miniature version of his daddy (who is the best golfer I know– he actually dreamed of going pro when he was in high school, but then we decided medicine would be a more realistic future. But yeah, he’s THAT good. Love ya, babe!). Cole was teeing up at hole one, and Reese just face plants. He busts his lip. Blood everywhere. This is totally normal behavior for him, but now that he has cancer, I PANICKED.


After somehow managing to carry an inconsolable 30lb Cole on one hip and a bleeding, screaming 20lb Reese on the other hip downstairs, through the exit, and across the parking lot to my car at 4:30 on a 107 degree South Carolina afternoon, I freaking lost it. Let’s just disregard the 12lb LV Neverfull I tote around on the reg because that’s just become a constant. The thoughts running through my mind were somewhere in the realm of “do I take him to the ER?” and “do I even have the energy to do that AND go to Publix to pick up some milk and paper towels?” Thank God for Matt. He managed to talk me off the ledge and snap me back to rationality. It was just a cut, and it had stopped bleeding, plus little man had fallen asleep in his carseat. So after stopping by to catch up with one of my sweet mommy friends, to the grocery store we went. Blood on my shirt. And the fact that I wore this shirt either makes me the coolest pregnant mom ever or the worst pregnant mom ever. Y’all can make that call– but it’s not everyday that you find a soft, loose, perfect-fitting white teeshirt with a cold shoulder and your life’s mantra written in your fave color on it. Not like I could pass that up.


Lucky for me, Matt wasn’t on call last night, and he was able to come home at a reasonable hour; and we were able to snag my parents to babysit (thank y’all SO much!!) the boys, so we could run to Nordstrom Rack for a little bit of retail therapy. Sometimes, you just have to.

Then you’ve got today. Today was even worse. It started off with me waking up with a sore throat and two angry red eyes (proof that sleeping in your contacts is bad for you), and it just escalated from there. Cole got ahold of my Bath & Body Works Eucalyptus Spearmint lotion– which is ironically enough supposed to be stress-relieving…HA– and managed to cover himself and my bedroom rug in the stuff. At least it smells really good. Once I cleaned/ de-greased him and changed his clothes, I put Minions on for the umpteenth time, so I could have a couple minutes to get dressed and ready for the day. I get a phone call from the heme/onc clinic letting me know that I was supposed to bring Reese in at 9 this morning to get his caps changed on his broviac (central line) and run labs. Oops. Side note: our last visit was Monday, and I had called this morning to see when his next appointment was, but I reached voicemail. Sigh.


So I’m getting dressed and ready to take these boys to the hospital, and I hear a crash followed by Colton screaming in pain. I run out to the living room half-dressed and see the blinds on the floor. Cole had somehow managed to pull them off the window, and they scraped his ear as they came down. So with all of my experience with wound care (thankfully I’ve got a lot because I am quite the risk-taker), I run to grab the cotton balls and peroxide to clean his little boo-boo. Topped it off with a Finding Dory Band-Aid, and we were finally ready to go to the clinic (after I threw a shirt on, obvi). By now it was 2:00pm, so naps were a no-go, and we still hadn’t eaten lunch. Thank God for McDonalds– I did get them milk, so it was sort of healthy…

We made it to the clinic, and per usual, Reese screamed the entire time the nurse was doing anything relative to his line. He never fusses when I do it, but it’s just something about going to the clinic. He just hates it. Twenty minutes of holding him down and listening to him scream while they drew blood and cleaned his lines/ changed his caps, and we were good to go. All the while, Cole was sitting in the stroller and behaving like an angel I’ve never seen, so I am so thankful for that. And luckily, Matt was at the hospital working anyway, so he was able to come over and meet us to help me wrangle these little devils.



That pretty much wraps it up. I am so looking forward to the end of this rotation. No more on-calls and normal people hours. This rotation has been really hard on us. Matt’s exhausted. I’m exhausted. And there’s just not really any time for us to spend together without the kids. It’s hard, but we’re almost done. So ready for a month of clinic. Just have to keep telling myself it’s only three more years (unless he decides to specialize, in which case it’ll be at least five more years). We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Right now, I’m tired. How much does the universe have to throw at me before I catch a little break? I just wonder how much I can take. Apparently it’s a hell of a lot, but right now, being Lindsey Wilder Mazzola, wife, mother, pregnant lady, boy mom, cancer mom, friend, daughter, sister, homemaker, sane person, decent member of society, and any other things I’ve left out is pretty f*****g exhausting.



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