Thanks for nothing, White House.


Ronan. When I’m not writing to you on the blog, I feel like a bad mom to you. I’m hard on myself and fuck, I just plain miss this. I cannot keep up with everything that is going on and life seems to running at an outrageous speed. So much has happened and so much is going on that I don’t even know what to address first. First things first, Ronan. I am so overwhelmed with every aspect in my life right now that I feel like a breakdown might be in order, just because I fucking deserve one. I keep telling myself, I have to get through September first, but I truly don’t know if I can wait that long.

So, where to start? The most important thing of course that has been consuming me. It started with that phone call from your Mr. Sparkly Eyes while I was out in the Hampton’s with your Poppy sister. That phone call that I know he did not want to make, for fear of “ruining our trip.” That phone call that left my head spinning, tears falling, sheer panic, and of course where my mind goes to the absolute worst place. That phone call where I was left saying, “What? No. Start over. I cannot process this. Do I need to get on a plane to come home? I love you. Ronan is not going to let anything happen to you.” That phone call that has had me down on my knees every day and night, begging and screaming to you to please DO NOT LET THIS BE STAGE IV FUCKING BULLSHIT CANCER AGAIN. That phone call that left me with my head going to the worst possible places and telling myself I wouldn’t survive this big of a loss, once again. Your daddy watched me as I paced around for days, cried in bed, telling him if anything happens, that this will be the worst thing to happen to me, since losing you. I came home from the Hampton’s, as fast as I could, waited as patiently as I could to get to the hospital and plop a big fat kiss on that old man’s forehead and look into his sparkly eyes. Surgery was done, to remove what was there. Your Sparkly just looked at me and said, “No matter what this is, my book is already written. You know that better than anyone.” I left the hospital, waiting to hear the news that was the only news there could be. I begged and pleaded with you once again in the parking garage. Please, Ronan. Do not let anything take him away. Please, Ronan. Let him be fine. You left him here to watch over me, for you. Do not let him be taken away. A few hours later, I got the news. The cancer had not spread and was confined to just that one area. It had not spread, and now that it was removed, everything was going to be fine.


Proof that you are still here, taking care of me, the best way that you can. By making the one dearest to my heart, o.k. I told him I need at least 30 more years of him here. He promised to help me fuck cancer and I’m not letting him go anywhere other than here, to do that.

While I was on my vacation in the Hampton’s, I got that little email that everyone else got who signed our petition to turn The White House GOLD for just one day in September. To say I am beyond disappointed, is an understatement. I am heartbroken at the way our cancer kids are just brushed aside as if they are a dirty little secret. I had visions of organizing a protest outside the White House. I had visions of the signs I would hold, while bouncing Poppy on my hip. I had visions of all the other angry people, right there with me. I wish so badly that I could make this a reality, because I don’t know what else to do. I’m angry, sad, and feel really let down. We worked SO hard for those signatures and I know all of our supporters did, too. I have had to regroup from that blow and go back to square one. Yes, The White House should be GOLD. But more importantly, our kids deserve more funds from our government. How can we make this happen? Does it start with baby steps while everyday, kids are just being murdered, left and right? How much more blood needs to be shed? The world of childhood cancer deserves so much more.  Are people really not aware or are we just plain being ignored? I am doing all I can on this end, to help spread the awareness. I feel like childhood cancer is being talked about, everywhere, but I realise that may only be because it’s the world solely live in now. We didn’t ask for much, Mr. President. We simply wanted some fucking lightbulbs changed out for one day, to recognize this world that deserves better. Thanks for not listening, or caring in my opinion. I truly expected more from you. These kids, deserve to be embraced. These kids, deserve to be recognized, not swept under the carpet. As frustrated and sad as I am, this just motivates me more to continue this fight. A little sorry we’re really not sorry light bulb changing is not going to stop me from trying every year, to get this to finally happen.

I have a ton more to write about, but I have to get ready for this little Skype interview set up that I am doing. I forgot to tell you all that I got a phone call from some lovely peeps that run a T.V. show in Florida. They so want to help with our mission and were so touched by our story that they created this show called Emotional Mojo. They asked if I would be up for doing Skype interviews with them, pretty frequently. Of course I said, “HECK YES!” Because I don’t like to say no to anything anymore especially if it can help with more awareness. Who knows what I am getting myself into, but I’ll never know unless I try. You can see the link for the website here. My first real interview is Monday. I’ll let you know when I know more. Maybe Poppy will even make an appearance;)

Alright, Ronan. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Thank you again, Ro baby. I love you so much.


P.S. We WILL get to the White House to make them fight harder for our kids who are dealing with cancer. A huge thank you to Mayor Stanton of Phoenix, Arizona for signing our proclamation to declare September as Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I say, Mayor Gregory Stanton for PRESIDENT. He is a man that cares and sticks to his word. We are truly grateful to have him on our side.