One year and a lifetime ago

Today is Brooklyn's one year cancer-free-iversary.

One year ago, doctors meticulously removed her tumour, diagnosed as stage one neuroblastoma for the mix of benign and malignant cells inside its walls. The cancer had not spread beyond her tumour, a reality I like to call being lucky, as far as unlucky goes.

One year ago we began healing.
All of five of us.

First, Brooklyn's physical body.
Her bravery lines.

Then, mom and dad's physical selves.
Back pain. Acid reflux. Sleep issues.

Now, all five of us are focused on our mental health.
Kicking the nightmares.
Lessening the anger.
Managing the guilt.
Feeling the sadness.

All this and we are the lucky family.
We endured a mere five weeks of treatment.
Quarterly follow ups.
A healthy child.
(This is where my guilt takes hold)

Thankfully Brooklyn is finally speaking about her time in treatment, thanks to an incredible play therapy program offered by Wellspring Niagara, which is led by Liz Christie of Playful Solutions. Just last week she said to Liz that every child with cancer is sad, but that sadness is really just being afraid. She has been able to articulate, through sand tray therapy, that sadness has taken her heart, a crushing reality of childhood cancer and medical trauma.

Her progress is slow but reassuring.
And we are grateful.

Little brother still clings, worries with every doctor's appointment and hugs his sister like a deity.
Big brother still feels jealous of the attention she has received, but we're discovering a level of anguish in his anger which seems to be tied very closely to all that happened last year.

And we were the lucky family.
Our daughter is alive.
NED.

She has grown over 10lbs and 3 inches in the last year.
Her hair, ironically cut as a Wigs for Kids donation two summers ago is growing long and thick.
She expresses her desire to be a dance teacher, play therapist, babysitter and mommy someday.
She reads beyond her grade level and next week will be doing a long first reading of Genesis at her school's monthly mass.

She's a freakin' rockstar.
A Warrior Princess.

So, in honour of this special day, we've decided on morning muffins, pasta day at school and then a meal at the kids' favourite restaurant.

We will laugh, eat and play as a family.
Be together as a family of five.
Tell the guilt of having a healthy child to go away, for a day, so we can celebrate.

Today, our Warrior Princess is one year NED.
And our prayers tonight will be plentiful.

#TeamBrookie #WarriorPrincess

Performance indicators of a life well-lived

Today marks exactly five years since I announced I was leaving an awesome full time job to become a freelance work-at-home mom. It was a very scary decision, but it felt innately comfortable.

Five years and a lifetime ago.

What astounds me about the last five years is that I do not have a single regret.

I do not regret putting my career on the back burner.
I do not regret the late, late work nights.

Not the burn out.
Not the exhaustion.
Not even the lack of 'me time'.

Don't get me wrong, the last five years have been incredibly difficult.
Painful at times, both physically and emotionally.

But my performance indicators were simple.
My decision to leave my career was based on the desire for simple things.

Balance in our home.
Time with our children.
A deeper family love.

I say 'our' in each of those first two statements because this wasn't a decision I made alone. I made it with my greatest cheerleader and best friend in life and parenting. We made this decision together.

To have less vacations.
But more time.

To buy less stuff.
But share more meaningful moments.

The performance indicators of my freelance business were not what a student reads in business texts.

I did not intend to build a large clientele.
I had no desire to work entrepreneurial hours to grow financially.

I chose balance.
I worked some, but less than full time.
I said no to projects, if they threatened my ability to be a mom.
I turned down dozens, dare I say hundreds of networking opportunities.

All to be with my family. At home. Together.
And I regret none of it.

So while a textbook may say that, by growth standards, I have failed, I am proud to have succeeded in business the last five years based on the deeply personal and engaging relationships I have with all three of my children as well as the equally strong and loving relationship I have with my husband.

Life is not always about income.
A position title on a business card.
Professional growth.

For some of us, at one time or for a long time, the performance indicators of a life well-lived are simply based on love, family and balance.