Woulda Coulda Shoulda

The first thing I need to do is offer up a great big group hug to all of you ravishingly pretty people who commented and emailed and kept my little family in your thoughts when I so rudely up and announced I needed to go silent for a while. I’m not sure what I thought was going to happen when I did that—I wasn’t really thinking about the possible reaction, only that I needed to get away from the computer—but I was pleasantly overwhelmed by how kind and patient you’ve all been. So thank you for that, so much.

The second thing I need to do is explain that I am often guilty of what we refer to as “magical thinking” tendencies. As in: As long as I don’t say this thing out loud, it isn’t true. Or: If I say this thing out loud, it will JINX IT. No need to point out how utterly crazypants that is, because I’m well aware, believe me. But I’m just laying it out for you, by way of explanation. Sometimes this is how I think.

That’s what happened two weeks ago. I couldn’t say what was true, because it was too scary; and I couldn’t say what I hoped, because saying it might mess it up.

Crazy, I know. In my defense, I was really, really scared. (more…)

Thank you all for the well-wishes for my mother-in-law. She had surgery and they were able to insert a rod into the bone to repair it, and it is around about this point in the story when Monkey puts his hands over his ears and says “YOU CAN STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS NOW” because it weirds him out to think about operations and people being fitted with rods. Because we are excellent parents, we assured him that Grammy is just fine, and we will all love her just as much now that she’s a cyborg as we did before.

In the meantime, my poor brother-in-law Nearly Nickless wasn’t feeling so hot, and the LAST time we were at their house, you know, he got a stomach bug which I ended up getting (which landed me in the ER), so I immediately started spritzing myself with hand sanitizer and giving him an extremely wide berth.

It turned out that he had strep throat. Because of course he did! As the excellent house guests we are, we clucked sympathetically, asked him if we could get him anything, and then promptly packed up all of our stuff and left. (more…)

(The title of this post is a complete lie. There is no profit in poisoning your child which I can figure out, though if there were, I would be ALL OVER THAT, pronto.)

I’ve been thinking I may need a completely separate space to discuss Chickadee’s mystery skin condition—I’ll call it As The Rash Spreads, natch—because it occurs to me that normal people may not actually find my (*counting on my fingers*) four years of endless blather about biopsies and medications and sun sensitivity and whatnot all that fascinating. I KNOW, RIGHT? I mean, what’s NOT entertaining about a cranky child with undiagnosed, pervasive creeping crud? But still, I should maybe take it somewhere else.

Today is not the day that’s happening, though. Sorry. Because this week we went back to Emory (again!) and have a New Plan (again!). And I just know you want to hear every last sordid detail. (more…)

One week of school is almost over, and already I feel like we have barely seen Chickadee. Between school and marching band and homework and a new youth group and the general business of leading a life, she is busy and happy and I am trying to be grateful for family dinnertime and the five or ten minutes here and there when I can catch a smile and a hug and a shred of information about her day.

One month ago, we were offered a potential treatment for Chickadee’s ever-present rash and I watched with a mix of annoyance and amusement as several of you wagged your fingers in the comments, telling me I needed to force her to do it. And the thing is, even if I would’ve been willing to go that route, the doctor told her it was up to her. She took it to heart, and for a few weeks I kept bringing it up and we argued and finally, Otto suggested we give her two weeks to think it over WITHOUT BADGERING HER, MIR, and we would talk again.

Last night before bed, she came downstairs and told us she’s ready to try the new med, blood draws and all. She needed time, and to feel like it was on her terms, but she made the right choice, all on her own. It was a superb ending to an already good day.