Wife, mother, blogger, writer, homeschooler, desmoid tumor patient, all around smartass, and Skittles enthusiast, not necessarily in that order.
Author: SickChristine
My Body: The Struggle Within
I homeschool my son, which works very well for me because a lot of my time is spent in my pajamas. Occasionally, though, we actually venture outside and go places. The other day we visited our local science museum to see their latest exhibit. Our Body: …
My Head Cold In Eleven Tweets
I am a self professed Twitter neophyte. I’ve tried it before, but Twitter and I just never clicked. When I started this blog, I vowed that I would reach into uncomfortable territory and try to stretch myself as a writer. I recently read and was …
Relationship Status: It’s Complicated
That cat right there, the one peering into your very soul, that’s Jojo and Jojo is a jerk. I doubt you looked at that photo and decided otherwise, but I felt I had to make it really, really clear how much of an ass our cat …
Mom Would Have Been Eighty-Seven Today
One day, somewhere around the tender age of 11, I came sobbing to my mother. I was broken. I couldn’t take what was being done to me anymore. I needed someone to fix the mess I was in. Through heaves and wails I explained to my …
I’ve Been Recognized
Imagine the pleasant surprise I had when Riddle from the Middle visited my humble little blog to give me an award. It really made up for the fact that I accidentally threw a pile of my husband’s mail into the garbage. Now, normally, that wouldn’t be …
The Chemo Purge
On November 16th of last year I got some pretty damned spectacular news, news I had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity to hear. Your tumor is dead. I cried, of course. I laughed. I hugged my oncologist. We talked about what my care …
A Wallow Will Do You Good
In middle school, the only thing that dominated my life more than acne was Wham!’s smash album, Make It Big. The seemingly ceaseless wailing of the saxophone solo on their hit ballad Careless Whisper transports me back in time. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can mourn …
