Usually I like Halloween. It's fun.
Today, since I know that The Boy has a lousy white count, we aren't doing anything. I forgot it was Halloween until at 2:10 the doorbell rang and woke me from a much-needed nap. And woke Meatball who had been carrying on for much of the morning.
I apologized to the trick-or-treaters and decided to put up a sign that says "NO CANDY. Sick child with no immunity. Sorry. Happy Halloween." I'm sure that the doorbell will still ring five times and furthermore I wouldn't be surprised if our house got egged because I'm sure that there's just NO excuse for being home and not giving out candy.
I just didn't think of it.
And maybe that makes me self-involved but I don't particularly care. I'm not really sure that having a bunch of kids come to my door is a great thing for The Boy. Likely it wouldn't harm him but in my nasty selfishness I just don't feel like putting up with the constant reminders that my kid can't participate.
Sorry.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Jesus dinner
In a brilliant stroke of "what is taking up space in my freezer that I can cook for dinner," I served pollock (a white fish, kind of like cod), one of those challah loaves that you defrost all day and then bake, and green beans.
Loaves and fishes. Impressive that I got the Jesus joke.
Loaves and fishes. Impressive that I got the Jesus joke.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Pray for Riley
Some background: Riley was diagnosed with Wilms Tumor at age six. She relapsed after treatment and was put on the Stratum-C protocol, which is the same one that The Boy is on. The REALLY long one.
Riley completed the protocol. It took about two years. She continued to go to school (or receive instruction), play soccer, and, amazingly enough, maintain her very strong faith. She was accepted into the gifted program at the end of her third grade year.
Her end-of-treatment scans revealed a spot. It was more cancer. They removed it and the next set of scans revealed another tumor.
Please pray for her. She is such a strong person and her parents are so loving and full of faith and hope. Also, I kept saying that Riley was doing well, so surely The Boy will as well...hopefully they will figure out a way to heal Riley.
Riley's Army is the organization that her parents started--go look that up.
Pray for all of our little ones, but right now Riley needs a little extra.
Riley completed the protocol. It took about two years. She continued to go to school (or receive instruction), play soccer, and, amazingly enough, maintain her very strong faith. She was accepted into the gifted program at the end of her third grade year.
Her end-of-treatment scans revealed a spot. It was more cancer. They removed it and the next set of scans revealed another tumor.
Please pray for her. She is such a strong person and her parents are so loving and full of faith and hope. Also, I kept saying that Riley was doing well, so surely The Boy will as well...hopefully they will figure out a way to heal Riley.
Riley's Army is the organization that her parents started--go look that up.
Pray for all of our little ones, but right now Riley needs a little extra.
Attention, Mommy: I am TWO!
Today was an okay day, but we had several moments in which it was very clear to me that The Boy is SO two.
This morning he slept in, so I decided to forgo breakfast at home and just have bagels and juice at the center. He was in a lousy mood in the morning and has this thing where he'll just lie facedown on the floor. He won't kick and scream; he'll just lie on the floor and that will be that. We got that on the way out the door, followed by whining, of course.
It's a delicate balance, trying to get the kids out of the house, because I know that I need time to get Meatball down the steps and get our stuff. If The Boy is actually good and is willing to come with me, he takes himself down the steps, where I put on his shoes, and he continues down the steps and out the door. Not today.
At the center, since he got platelets, he got Benadryl. It makes him tired, and usually, he naps. For some reason he wanted to sit in the stroller, and I wasn't really having that. No GOOD reason other than I knew he wouldn't nap unless he was in bed. He spent 20 minutes or so whining about it before finally curling up and falling asleep. My feeling was also, dangit Meatball is sleeping and if you don't go to sleep too then I won't get my nap.
He had physical therapy today which went well--a pleasant surprise. She is trying to get him to jump, which is one of his goals. He is on track with running, another goal. At this age, they still trot, which he does. Jumping isn't happening yet but he is starting to understand the concept. He was very well-behaved, while still being very silly. The physical therapist works with kids under the age of 3 all day--I'd bet that's a fun job. Kind of. It takes just the right person to do it.
For some reason, The Boy no longer likes baths. He used to love showers and love baths. I don't remember exactly how it happened but I'm sure that it has something to do with the hospital. He uses his ever-growing verbal skills to yell "NO BATH!!" and to try and go back to his room for a "DIAPER" which he says kind of like "bapp-er" and heaven forbid I suggest that he use the potty--"NO POTTY!" Even though if he does he'll get to wear "ELMO PANTS!!"
What a blessing, though, that going to bed is no longer the big production that it used to be. I'd love it if he'd sleep a little longer in his bed, but going to about 4 or 5 AM before coming in with us isn't too bad. Unfortunately, half the time his coming in our bed means that Meatball and I leave, because his waking often wakes Meatball, who decides that he wants to be up for an hour. The past few mornings have found me with Meatball in my arms as Musical Daddy leaves the house.
Tomorrow I don't think we have anything to do. We're sleeping in. And probably watching a lot of Elmo. Low white count, although I might still try Trader Joe's with the kids in the double stroller just to get a few things.
This morning he slept in, so I decided to forgo breakfast at home and just have bagels and juice at the center. He was in a lousy mood in the morning and has this thing where he'll just lie facedown on the floor. He won't kick and scream; he'll just lie on the floor and that will be that. We got that on the way out the door, followed by whining, of course.
It's a delicate balance, trying to get the kids out of the house, because I know that I need time to get Meatball down the steps and get our stuff. If The Boy is actually good and is willing to come with me, he takes himself down the steps, where I put on his shoes, and he continues down the steps and out the door. Not today.
At the center, since he got platelets, he got Benadryl. It makes him tired, and usually, he naps. For some reason he wanted to sit in the stroller, and I wasn't really having that. No GOOD reason other than I knew he wouldn't nap unless he was in bed. He spent 20 minutes or so whining about it before finally curling up and falling asleep. My feeling was also, dangit Meatball is sleeping and if you don't go to sleep too then I won't get my nap.
He had physical therapy today which went well--a pleasant surprise. She is trying to get him to jump, which is one of his goals. He is on track with running, another goal. At this age, they still trot, which he does. Jumping isn't happening yet but he is starting to understand the concept. He was very well-behaved, while still being very silly. The physical therapist works with kids under the age of 3 all day--I'd bet that's a fun job. Kind of. It takes just the right person to do it.
For some reason, The Boy no longer likes baths. He used to love showers and love baths. I don't remember exactly how it happened but I'm sure that it has something to do with the hospital. He uses his ever-growing verbal skills to yell "NO BATH!!" and to try and go back to his room for a "DIAPER" which he says kind of like "bapp-er" and heaven forbid I suggest that he use the potty--"NO POTTY!" Even though if he does he'll get to wear "ELMO PANTS!!"
What a blessing, though, that going to bed is no longer the big production that it used to be. I'd love it if he'd sleep a little longer in his bed, but going to about 4 or 5 AM before coming in with us isn't too bad. Unfortunately, half the time his coming in our bed means that Meatball and I leave, because his waking often wakes Meatball, who decides that he wants to be up for an hour. The past few mornings have found me with Meatball in my arms as Musical Daddy leaves the house.
Tomorrow I don't think we have anything to do. We're sleeping in. And probably watching a lot of Elmo. Low white count, although I might still try Trader Joe's with the kids in the double stroller just to get a few things.
Another day, another bag
Platelets today. The Boy is fighting the Benadryl and whining that he wants to sit in the stroller. Except that if he does that, he won't take a nap and be an even crankier pain.
Meatball is asleep in the carrier and we are all on the bed.
Good news is that the hemoglobin level should be acceptable for awhile.
Meatball is asleep in the carrier and we are all on the bed.
Good news is that the hemoglobin level should be acceptable for awhile.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
So Happy Together
Musical Daddy asked me if other parents enjoy their children so much and if other kids are as much fun as The Boy (not that Meatball isn't fun, but he is a pretty typical baby at the moment). Of course, we think that our child is wonderful, but the question really stuck in my head.
Today I was reading Parenting magazine with Meatball drifting off to sleep in my lap, and I came across this article about the habits of happy families and what they do to feel better about life, regardless of what's going on. Things like feeling satisfied with plans made (such as, enjoying your hotel room while on vacation and not getting upset that someone else has a better balcony than you do) and just enjoying things while they are happening, and remembering them often, instead of getting upset about not being able to do something again or being distracted.
And THEN, I was on the phone with my telephone shrink (she calls every 2-3 weeks and has for awhile; I can't actually go to the real-life therapist anymore unfortunately). Oddly enough, she also has a child who had Wilms tumor. She said that one of the blessings that comes with cancer is that all of a sudden, the less significant problems just don't matter and the joyful moments are truly joyful. It is a blessing because that mode of thinking continues for the rest of your life. My mother will confirm that, as a cancer survivor herself, and we certainly agree. It was at that point that I understood why Musical Daddy said what he did. Of course we think that our children are the greatest, but he has been "blessed" because of The Boy's cancer with the ability to make the most out of the wonderful moments and to make nothing out of the difficult ones.
At some point awhile ago, after having struggled for awhile with The Boy and his behavior as a two-year-old, something switched on in that same regard where I am so much more in tune with what he actually needs and what his real motivations are, and frequently he'll just listen to me which is amazing. And if he doesn't and I need to force an issue, I don't get frustrated--I merely explain what we're doing and why we have to, and I empathize as necessary. It helps that I have Meatball's patterns pretty much down to a science (which means that they're going to change soon) and I can focus my energy appropriately.
Anyhow, I think that we really "get it" when it comes to being as happy as we can be. Sometimes I just want to smack some people for complaining and say, "If WE can manage to be happy and enjoy our children and each other, you can suck it up too" which would, of course, defeat the purpose. More to the point, troubles are not relative (even with troublesome relatives). When you struggle, it's real. And when you can see past your troubles and enjoy life in spite of them, you're always better off.
Today I was reading Parenting magazine with Meatball drifting off to sleep in my lap, and I came across this article about the habits of happy families and what they do to feel better about life, regardless of what's going on. Things like feeling satisfied with plans made (such as, enjoying your hotel room while on vacation and not getting upset that someone else has a better balcony than you do) and just enjoying things while they are happening, and remembering them often, instead of getting upset about not being able to do something again or being distracted.
And THEN, I was on the phone with my telephone shrink (she calls every 2-3 weeks and has for awhile; I can't actually go to the real-life therapist anymore unfortunately). Oddly enough, she also has a child who had Wilms tumor. She said that one of the blessings that comes with cancer is that all of a sudden, the less significant problems just don't matter and the joyful moments are truly joyful. It is a blessing because that mode of thinking continues for the rest of your life. My mother will confirm that, as a cancer survivor herself, and we certainly agree. It was at that point that I understood why Musical Daddy said what he did. Of course we think that our children are the greatest, but he has been "blessed" because of The Boy's cancer with the ability to make the most out of the wonderful moments and to make nothing out of the difficult ones.
At some point awhile ago, after having struggled for awhile with The Boy and his behavior as a two-year-old, something switched on in that same regard where I am so much more in tune with what he actually needs and what his real motivations are, and frequently he'll just listen to me which is amazing. And if he doesn't and I need to force an issue, I don't get frustrated--I merely explain what we're doing and why we have to, and I empathize as necessary. It helps that I have Meatball's patterns pretty much down to a science (which means that they're going to change soon) and I can focus my energy appropriately.
Anyhow, I think that we really "get it" when it comes to being as happy as we can be. Sometimes I just want to smack some people for complaining and say, "If WE can manage to be happy and enjoy our children and each other, you can suck it up too" which would, of course, defeat the purpose. More to the point, troubles are not relative (even with troublesome relatives). When you struggle, it's real. And when you can see past your troubles and enjoy life in spite of them, you're always better off.
Super-fun, the 4AM version
Two nights ago, The Boy woke up and was standing at the gate. Not unusual. Holding a book. Also not unusual. Completely naked.
That's right--he had taken off all of his clothing and had placed it in a neat pile by the door.
Just now, The Boy did something similar. Except that this time, his diaper had poo in it.
A bath, a floor-mopping, a bed-stripping...and of course, Meatball is now wide awake to boot. He is currently playing contentedly on his playmat. I will be folding diaper laundry as soon as I finish sharing my wonderful night with you.
That's right--he had taken off all of his clothing and had placed it in a neat pile by the door.
Just now, The Boy did something similar. Except that this time, his diaper had poo in it.
A bath, a floor-mopping, a bed-stripping...and of course, Meatball is now wide awake to boot. He is currently playing contentedly on his playmat. I will be folding diaper laundry as soon as I finish sharing my wonderful night with you.
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