Why Not My Child

Not long ago, after a beautiful day of playing in the park with my healthy family I got a somewhat panicked call from a friend. At the time we were just getting to know each other, we both had children in the same class at school, and really all I knew about her is that she is gorgeous, her husband is a talented musician, all four of her children are beautiful, and that she had just found out that one of her twin sons had cancer.

I believe all she knew about me is that I always have a camera on my face. I am not a professional photographer. But desperate times call for desperate measures. She was calling me to ask if I would please drop everything, come to her house -- directly -- and photograph her family because her son was loosing his hair. It was that day. The day all patients with cancer dread, the first day it all falls out.

With all the struggles that cancer warriors face, the hair seems trivial. The diagnosis, the treatments, the uncertain fate, the ... well, actually when I start thinking about it, it is so upsetting I can hardly breathe. But I have never met a cancer warrior or survivor who has not made some profound reflection about loosing their hair all on one day. In essence, to the outside world one day they look healthy, and the next they appear every bit as sick as they must feel. Which for many is the first day the people around them show their own fears.

Of course I raced to this family's house. Of course I tried my best. Of course they tried their best. Of course the pictures were horrible. Of course every time I went to brush something off his face I realized it was his hair and trembled as I tried to act like I wasn't brushing away more hair.

That day -- so early in their battle -- Kim, the mother, said to me, "I just look at him and I think, why not my child? His odds are his odds. But who is to say he won't be counted among the percentage to fight and win."

During their fight Kim was the most extraordinary medical consumer. She got in there and asked questions and asked for more. Accepting pain and accepting the way the treatment made her son feel was not OK with her. She wanted more for him. She wanted to help him. And she did. This is her story, told in her words. Please go watch. Then tell other people to watch.

KIM'S COMMERCIAL CLICK HERE

And would you believe she was right?!?!? He's in remission. And why not?

Can I Get a Seagull

There is a remark I have never fully recovered from, spoken by a profusely sweating man in a short-sleeve dress shirt (I loathe those things), in a classroom now made famous by the movie High School Musical.

Yup, that’s right, I took some community college classes when I lived in good ‘ol Salt Lake City on the campus of East High School, which was extraordinarily convenient because I lived across the street in the smelliest apartment known to man. It was a certification course for substitute teachers so I have NO idea why this man was talking about journals. But he said that on the famed day of “The seagulls eating all the crickets” there are no journal entries.

I found this to be a big deal because the story of the seagulls and the crickets is so deeply ingrained in the culture of Salt Lake City. I mean like it’s their state bird and they have statues and stuff. If you’re not familiar with the legend, it goes something like this…

Back in 1847 the Utah pioneers’ crops were being decimated by copious droves of crickets. To the rescue were a large flock of seagulls – like so many they couldn’t see the sun – who came and ate the crickets and then flew away, then threw up the crickets, and returned to the scene of the feast to eat more crickets. They repeated this bulimic behavior until the pestilence subsided. Big deal, right?

And supposedly, according to this very questionable authority, on the very day of this entire happening no one thought to write in their journal about it. There are historians who have researched the story based on pioneer journal entries from that time. And the general documented consensus is that the pioneers did have some troubles with drought and pestilence – namely crickets – but that no one consistent, conclusive account was written on that day.

Here’s what I think about that. Who cares!

I myself have had some very big stuff happening around here, and I tell you what, there are no journal entries from any of it. Oral history is as good – if not exaggerated and misappropriated – as written history, I think. And in most cases of really crazy circumstances is all that remains.

If you stick around and are patient you may hear about some of the following stuff on this blog:

 The first born learning to ride his bike without training wheels
 Thou Shalt Not Sell Your Brother
 Family expansion news, including weddings, houseguests, and expected babies (none from this uterus, I assure you)
 Major medical mishaps
 More major medical mishaps
 Oh, and a few more major medical mishaps
 My Book Buddy’s Ven Diagram
 Adventures From The Peanut-Free Gang
 Sour School Portraits: To Retake or Not To Retake, That is the Question
 Ragnar Running Update – because I am literally too effin lazy to keep that other blog going
 My husband is older-ish and we went to a concert
 Tales from the Coin-Op Laundromat and other disease-fearing dilemmas
 Farewell to Tortuga
 Proctology v. Urology
 25% of my house is a shambles, and approximately the same amount of my life is, too.

Then again, you may not. Because quite literally a significant portion of my life is misplaced and it’s making my brain hurt.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a historian. I am not even an Utahn. So, if any of my memory of this legend or any account of my strange teacher happens to be unabashedly untrue, I don’t really care. But I haven’t put it forward for any other reason than to illustrate a personal point, so live with it. And also, if it really bugs you, invest in Utah public education. AND Idaho Public Education for that matter. Hell, invest in public education because it’s the right thing to do.

PHOTO NOTE: Unrelated picture of my son wearing face paint, because who doesn’t like green eyebrows.

Thank You Kindergarten

Well, it's here, the end of Kindergarten.

I could not have imagined how melancholy this ebb of emotions would be. Obviously we're proud of our 6-year-old for finishing, for learning how to read, for learning what hot is. But mostly we're relieved he found friendship.

This is a picture of Cooper and his best friend. I've been wanting to talk about how amazing their little friendship is, but haven't known the best way.

Can you even tell the two apart?

This friend had a serious health issue about 1 year ago. In fact, this year he has spent time in the hospital, as well. So the start of their friendship actually came later on in the school year. All in all he and Coop are two peas in a pod. They love all the same things. All. They are both little brainiacs who love LEGOs. And they both unabashedly share feelings, easily cry in class, and accept just about anyone into their circle of friends. I love watching them play.

Being friends with a child who has had the medical concerns that this friend has, required us to explain some very serious topics to Cooper. Cooper has digested all the information with a lot of class and courage. Cooper has never once been bothered by any differences in this friend, nor has he asked too much about it. Whenever we're faced with explaining more about his friend's condition, Cooper just shrugs his shoulders and moves on. But each time, I see a maturity dawn in his eyes and he grows up a little bit more. You can imagine the effect this has on my own heart.

Cooper has never made a joke or talked lightly about the health of his friend to us or to his buddy. He has been open to all explanations and never said it was weird, or gross, or funny. And yet, he is able to play and play and play with his friend with a lightness of heart and soul that permits the two of them to enjoy each other without burden.

This morning our friend and his family left on an exciting adventure made possible by the Make A Wish foundation. You cannot imagine the joy this brings their family. Should you find opportunity to support or donate to this foundation, or any foundation that seeks to provide a little laughter, a little break, and a little lightheartedness -- take it!

And you know, phew! He'll enter first grade walking tall and smile with an eye toward spotting his friend, knowing he has what it takes to make friends and keep them. All thanks to the confidence born from meeting his very first friend.

Bunny Vision

I have concluded that I am ready to take bunny abatement to the next level this year. I'm spitting mad over the havoc they have wreaked in the garden. The only thing that has kept me from doing something more permanent in the past has been these two little critters.

I feel really bad about crossing over to the bunny-killer side of the fence. I didn't want my kids to see dead bunnies. But the rabbit colony is producing so many little ones they get trapped in our window wells and die of starvation or heart attacks, or injuries from the fall every year.

Now, where is the local IFA?

Accidental Tradition

Thirty years ago a young, but not small girl was bribed. The payoff to influence participation in a school Christmas play was a McDonald's happy meal. Acrimonious participation behind her, happy meal in front of her, said girl did not eat. Concerned mother ushered young girl into restroom only to discover that young girl had a little known virus called the chicken pox.

Little has changed in 30 years. Well, except for this time the young girl is now the mother of a young boy. And the boy didn't have chicken pox. And there you have it, a tradition is born.

Me, Too

Mason's first day of formal preschool rushed at us like the cool breeze that ushered in September. After months of preparation -- he took collecting school supplies VERY seriously -- he was ready and willing to walk right in, sit right down, and dig in to learning.


I was beginning to agonize because in the weeks leading up to the first day he started to hedge his bets. His first tactic was to tell me he didn't want to leave Ann -- his daycare lady of the past 2 years. Then when he realized I wasn't going for that excuse he started to construct a myriad of cop-outs. My favorite was when he said, "I'll just go to Cooper's school with him."


On the night of his school's ice cream social -- about a week before the start of school -- he acted interested and even participated without force. Until about half way through then he started doubling over and feigning stomach pains. Of course the whole family hightailed it out of there, in fear of the dreaded vomitosis. Once in the car it was clear it was a case of butterflies and perhaps some ill-timed and yet long-overdue gas.

But the morning of was not riddled with worry. In fact, he was brave and bold and enjoyed himself -- a lesson for all of us.
PHOTO NOTE: The black and white photo is from the night of the social, right before he got all stomach-pain-ish on us. The rest are from the first day of school.

You Won't Believe Me

Supposedly there is a certain serenity to be savored in an uncongested home. But I have a "stacks of stuff" decorating theme. Not slob, per se, but nothing has a place. Or rather, I believe I'm the only one who knows all the places. And so I think you can see where this line of reasoning is going.

My husband has another opinion. And while we disagree on where the fault lies, one thing we do agree on is that we all feel better when the house is in order. I've been trying to do that. Frankly, I don't have much to show for my efforts.

While I promised myself I would not idle away time online until I had the clutter under control -- I had to stop in to share a funny.

Cooper is reading. We are fortunate to have benefactors with boys just older than ours who live just up the street. They send us their used books and puzzles. The newest installment is very fancy -- I must add -- and we are enjoying them very much. I especially like the included parent guides that help you conduct effective comprehension tests for your child. Anyway... one of the questions instructed, "Make up a sentence of your own using the word clap." Clap, more accurately applause, was a word from the story.

Cooper wasted no time and said, "I caught the clap."

Honestly.

PHOTO NOTE: Children shown here, googling, "What is gonorrhea?"

When The Tables Turned

So we've been absent on the blog lately. I know I mentioned sickness has descended on everyone. We're pulling out of it. But one last picture I want to keep is of my little one.

He is a cockroach. I'm telling you, despite being 5 weeks early and spending time in NICU has had no serious health problems. Once he left that hospital he really never looked back.

His brother, on the other hand, has had one thing after another and is on a pretty regular regiment of medications delivered through the nebulizer.

It was a surprise for me, then, when Mason needed to have nebulizer treatments of his own this past week. But, having seen it done by his older brother, Mason found absolutely nothing about it remarkable. He just snapped that mask on and got on with it.

Got me thinking about influences. Our children can do what they see and watch. I figure my kids will be excellent toilet bowl cleaners. It also explains why Cooper tonight asked me to teach him how to sew.

A Little Help

Following my fantastic girls' weekend in the mountains Karma saw fit to strike my family with sickness. Namely poor little Mason was saddled with another ear infection and stayed up all night screaming and crying for help. He wasn't able to fall asleep until 8 a.m. when my husband figured out how to hold him just upright enough that he could sleep without pain. Then on the heels of no sleep for anyone in the family, except Coop, I came down with some kind of feverish stomach ailment. Awful. I couldn't walk without extreme dizziness and basically huddled in bed shivering while my face burned off. So strange.


During this time, my Cooper saved us all. He played with Mason and got him snacks. He would quietly tip toe into my room to give me an update from time to time. But mostly helped everyone recover. So in the entire cycle of cause and effect I'm pretty sure that he will be blessed in future experiences.


I should also mention that against all natural laws I received a letter in the mail during this time from a new but soulful, far-away friend. It was sent solely to lift my spirits. Thanks Donk, God is very fair and I am certain will give you exactly what you deserve. And with that, my friends, I am off to sow goodness, because I need to reap a little goodness.

I Love You Stinky Face

I found myself in the doctor's office with my two rugrats recently. During the visit the doctor had to excuse himself to take an important phone call. Which is exactly when my children started farting. The treatment room in which we were confined was basically airless and my boys were really getting smelly. Exasperated I asked, "Who stinks!?!?!?"

Without a moment's hesitation Mason answered, "Grandma Go Go."

Love you, mommy.

Everything I Wanted

I get headaches. Bad ones. I can still describe to you the occasion of the first one I remember, which felt like it split my head wide open in about the 3rd grade.

I was just searching the medicine cabinet for something strong to battle one, when Cooper came looking for me. Of course he had like 30 questions. I was none too eager to speak aloud let alone answer his bazillion questions. So when we got to the part where he wanted to know why I had a headache I told him I thought it was because I grind my teeth.

He then proceeded to repeat to me -- word for word -- a commercial for a night mouth guard that he had seen on T.V. He even said, "clenching can cause damage to your teeth, mom." Of course I said, "Cooper you are quite possibly the smartest boy I have ever met, ever." This people is when it got interesting.

"Is that why you bought me?"

"I didn't buy you, I grew you."

"Oh, is that what you wanted to grow, a smart boy?"

"Well, not exactly. But I like what I got."

Blank stare. Some unabashed blinking of the minkiest eyelashes I've ever seen.

"I only wished you would be well and wonderful, and you are. Plus you're smart."

"Did you eat me?"

Aside from being hysterical, I can't put the conversation out of my mind. How do you explain to your child that you didn't wish for him exactly, but you love exactly what you got? They earnestly want to know this. I know I did, or rather I still do. Every child wants to know if you love him. And to know if you wished for him. For his individual awesomeness. Of course we do not wish for it. And yet, once you have them they are everything you wish for, and more. This might not actually be true for all parents, but it is to me.

So while I contemplate this mystery of the ages, I am also panicking because it's only a matter of time before he presses me on the, "Did you eat me?" in order to grow me question. And we all know how I handle pressure situations.

PHOTO NOTE: I don't have very many pictures of my kids right now. I've been listening to them, instead of sticking a lens up their nose. They just show off anyway.

Do Me a Favor?

If you smoke... would you consider quitting? We all know that it’s one of the biggest killers in the world and causes disease and cancer. From what I understand, that's a bummer.

But here's my beef.

It grosses me out to find my 3-year-old anywhere close to an ashtray. In fact, I found him nearly kissing-distance close to a cigarette butt huffing and puffing at it. When I asked him what he was doing, he said, "Trying to blow out this stinky candle."

Just quit.

Home Remedy

Mas has itchy skin. He always has it and he's always pulling off his clothes to get to it. He's an itchy scratchy kid. The fix? I lather him in lotion (I prefer Renew) and then I put these socks on him. Actually the socks were his idea. But it works, so I'm not changing the remedy. Take that, fancy-schmancy healthcare overhaul.

Essentially Nonessential

I just completed a marathon session of packing for an upcoming Independence Day holiday. There's nothing like packing for holiday to point out to you your faults.

1. I'm NOT organized.
2. My house is a wreck.
3. I hoard. (Not like, call Oprah I live next to a hoarder, but like I like my stuff.)

So here's what I've concluded. There are a few essential non essentials that we'll be taking with us. I'm may regret these items, but then again....

The Potette
This is a collapsible, portable, potty chair with disposable liners that catch the... well, you get it. A must have for germ-a-phobe moms and kids who are in the midst of toilet training.

6 Leapster games
Even though my children tend to only play the Batman and the Star Wars games, I think I should take all of them -- including two new ones. Because, you just never know (please see afore mentioned note on hoarding).

Goldfish and Trail Mix
This is in the carry-on for the plane. The flight is quite short, surely my kids can go without carbs for a few hours. But, I'm packing it.

12 Golf Balls
First of all, let me just say that technically I'm not supposed to be golfing. Next let me just say that the last time I went golfing I didn't loose any balls and I actually found two. But oh I fear not having enough -- six for him, and six for me.

There you have it... the essential, non-essentials. Now for the non-negotiable essentials that take up a lot of room.

The Nebulizer
I was hoping that Cooper would be able to live without it for the week. He hasn't had a respiratory event in at least two months. But at our most recent appointment we (his specialist and me) decided that he wasn't ready. It's the right choice, but it's still a pain in the neck. (Wouldn't you know it the morning after his appointment, he started having trouble.)

Something like 28 pairs of underpants (which aren't really pairs, but you know what I mean)
I don't think I really need to explain this one. But let me just remind you that Cooper is a 4-year-old boy and Mason is new to underpants in general. Enough said.

Alllllllll right then. If you haven't caught on, we're going on vacation. I'll update the blog, but probably without pictures. I will post pictures on Facebook.

Chalk It Up

Before you get grossed out, let me just say I know that Cooper's nose is bleeding in these pictures. But actually this was an improvement. I was afraid to wipe it for fear of making it start all over, again.

Ewwwwwwww

Mason slipped four popcorn kernels up his nose on Sunday night. Yes, that's a nice place to begin. Four. Two in each nostril. They popped out pretty easily and I suspect I wouldn't have been in such a panic if he would have just held still long enough to see up his nose.

And that is where I hoped this story would end. This morning he woke up but couldn't open his eyes. His long lashes were shellacked in green goo. And so, I returned to the doctor. (Seriously, 1 month. I just want to make it 1 month with out going to the doctor.)

Turns out that while we were able to get all the kernels out, the oils, salt, and what-have-you that makes microwave popcorn taste so wonderful is a bit of an irritant. His little tear ducts became little pressure valves of scum. Not a biggie, not contagious conjunctivitis or anything like that, but pretty hideous.

When I took him to the park today I literally noticed mothers steering their kids away from him. So, we took flight and walked down by the pond and fed the geese our left-over snacks. In case you're wondering, Canadian Geese really like Scottish Shortbread.


PS -- In other funny kid-isms. I visited with a client today who has asked me to sew some draperies for the room where her parrots live. She also has an Indiana Jones pinball machine and she let the boys play it while we were measuring her windows. When we left, Mason waved to her and said, "Thanks me playing Indiana Jones buttons."

Down and Out

It's all quiet on this front. I'm blogging, not because I have time, but because you might need an update. Cooper is having a really hard time right now. He's coughing so persistently he can't sit still or even sleep. This has been going on for a few days, so he's fairly bushwhacked at this point. He's pictured here -- in a moment of reprieve from the cough -- sleeping so hard that he fell off the couch and didn't even wake up.


PS -- We have another niece, this makes no. 11. Welcome to the world Finley.

PHOTO NOTE: A few funnies from Easter morning when everyone was feeling a lot better.

Day 5: Cooper Eats, A LOT

=====
DAY 5
=====

8 a.m.
Cooper eats an entire 6 oz yogurt.

9
Starts to complain of a stomachache. But, no other symptom, e.i., fever, vomiting.

12:40 p.m.
We set lunch on the patio, for our first "eating outside" of the season. Cooper polishes off 20 blackberries for lunch. He declines offers for popcorn, crackers, cheese, noodles, even apples (a usual favorite).

2:30
In the middle of an appointment, Cooper bellows, "Maaaaaa-ommmmm I'm so hungry I'm starving."

3
Drive straight to Panera and let the boys pick out a bakery treat. Cooper picks a chocolate chip muffie (the top of a muffin) and apple juice. Mason picks out a chocolate chip cookie and a milk. I pick out a chocolate frosted brownie and a hazelnut coffee. Cooper eats half of his muffie, drinks all of his juice, eats my brownie (I think I had 1 bite), and asks for more food. What?!?!?!?!

I get two Everything bagels, a bottle of water, and another juice box. I eat Mason's cookie. Mason doesn't eat his bagel, but does drink the extra juice box (after finishing his milk). Cooper eats his entire bagel and drinks most of the water. Holy cow! Is this a fluke?

6:30
I make a simple pasta/asparagus/diced ham/parm cheese/orange bell pepper dish. Cooper eats, and eats, and eats (and keeps asking for me). Steve is NOT home for dinner. So, now I'm questioning previous hunches.

This is crazy -- like crazy good, not crazy bad.

9:30
The boys each eat two girl-scout cookies.

PHOTO NOTE: Mason with the strawberries.

Just More, Day 4

Net New: Coop is officially "irregular" and has a new symptom.

=====
DAY 4
=====

8 a.m.
Dad suggests oatmeal and raisins to the boys.

noon-ish
Cooper eats 1/2 of a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich. This sounds like a lot of food, but it's not really. Mason ate a whole one, and Coop's been known to eat one and then still complain of hunger. But, he's eating, I won't complain.

2:30 p.m.
While at the park I offer the kids some small mint-chocolate cookies (The ones that come in the 100 calories packs.) and a juice box. Coop drinks most of his juice box, but only a couple of his cookies. He's in good spirits and playing well.

3:45
Cooper runs to me telling me his needs to go poop. Then I notice he's already had an accident in his pants. In his defense, it was not poop so much as water. He sits on the toilet to no avail. Might be dehydrated. Not sure.

4:45
Offer him pizza, he declines. Starts to get weepy and whiny.

6:16
Cooper starts to whine and cry so incessantly we wonder if he is ready to go to bed for the night.

6:20
Cooper asks for more strawberries. Eats just a couple.

8
Cooper eats Macaroni and Cheese.

9
Dad treats him to ice cream with chopped up cookies.

No complaints of stomach aches. Doesn't go to the bathroom. But sleeps through the night.

Food Strike Over, I Think

Net new: Cooper is eating a little bit. But he's feeling just as bad, if not worse.

=====
DAY 3
=====

7:30 a.m.
Dad fixes Cooper a huge egg sandwich, which he eats entirely! This is the most he's eaten in days. Note that it was dad's suggestion, dad fixed it, and dad ate with him.

8
Mason eats the same thing.

11:13
Cooper says he's hungry. I'm so taken by surprise, I don't even know what to make. He eats 4 large strawberries. But while Mason is sitting at the counter eating peacefully, Cooper crawls down from his perch and takes up residence on the step in the other room to eat. He's by himself, but eating fine. Am I just looking for something?

1:50 p.m.
Cooper actually says he is "really, really" hungry. Has the food strike ended? Has he had a stomach bug? And now it's over? Asks for cheerios mixed with wheat Chex and I comply. He eats about 1 cup. Major. He's actually sitting at the counter with his brother. Asks for a popsicle, but doesn't finish it. Starts gagging and making a scene. I don't know why.

4
After crying off and on for an hour he asks for a snack and eats just 5 Ritz crackers. I say just, but really that's genuine improvement and I'd be happy with that if he'd just stop crying. He resumes his crying vigil until I ask him to try taking a nap.

4:20
He's out like a light. Completely zonked. Did I mention he's still wearing his costume du jour -- a spider outfit. Stays asleep for 2 hours, when his father comes home from work and wakes him up.

7
Eats Macaroni and Cheese with the babysitter. She does not report any weird behavior or complaints.

11:15
Cooper can't get to sleep and at 11:15 gets out of bed to report he has a stomach ache. I go to his room to sit with him and listen to his complaints without jumping to conclusions. He asks to go to the bathroom about every 10-15 minutes. But doesn't actually pass anything.

1 a.m.
Cooper whimpers and asks for crackers. I go to the kitchen to fetch this after-midnight snack, when I get back he is asleep. Finally.