The Death of a Pet

On our way out the door to school, Tommy walked as usual up to his bunny's cage to check in on him before we headed off to school. "Mom, is Bounce sleeping?" he asked. I went up to the cage and realized that Bounce was laying on his side and not bouncing to greet us as he usually did. Not really realizing something was amiss, I poked at Bounce with my finger. Sure enough, he was a bit on the stiff side, but I thought maybe I was mistaken. Surely he wasn't dead. I had stroked his ears and checked his food and water late the night before and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I hurried Tommy to the car with a "he's just sleeping in this morning, Tommy," and headed back inside to tell John something was up with Bounce. With tears in my eyes, I told John that I probably was wrong, but maybe Bounce was dead.
Sure enough, John called me later at work, announcing Bounce was stiff and cold. I cried in my office, partly out of sadness for Bounce, but mostly at the pain this info would cause to our little boy. What should I tell him? Should we have some sort of "funeral/burial or just quietly move along and not draw it out? Should we let him lead, or should we bring him along for the ride? Questions all day long. However, I did know that I wanted to wait until after our afternoon of pumpkin hunting was over before breaking the news.
Turns out we ended up letting Thomas lead this one. At pick up after school, Mrs. Batten told me that Tommy had been tearful on and off throughout the day worried about his bunny. I gave her the "slash across the throat" sign, and she sighed. "Let me know how it goes," she said. Tommy was bound and determined to go see his bunny, so once in the car I told him that Bounce wasn't just sick, but that he had died. I watched his face change as understanding dawned. I watched him physically crumple in his seat, his face in his hands as he started to sob. Thankfully, Madeline and Isaac were there to prop him up, and stories of death and dying filled the car. "My hamster only lived 3 months, Tommy, so this is nothing," Madeline assured him. "At least you got Bounce for a whole year, " Isaac pointed out. "Our fish died and we flushed him," Madeline pointed out. "Good thing Bounce is too big to flush," they agreed. "Do you think Bounce is up in Heaven?" he asked. "Yes, Tommy," I lied. It isn't the first and won't be the last "lie" I tell, I bet. Apparently, or so I'm told, good theology doesn't stand up to my "all animals go to Heaven" mantra that I've told myself since childhood. I will believe it anyway, and give my children some peace in believing that they will see their animals. I think it will be the least of their worries once up in Heaven anyway.
Once back at home, Tommy carefully planned out the burial. He picked up and cuddled Bounce's stiff body, his ears flopping around as Tommy bounced him around in his arms. I cringed a bunch with the sight. He wrote a short little love note and picked flowers. He made sure Bounce was safe in the box, and asked to be the one to carry him up to the burial site we'd picked out. He went to the shop and found two big crosses that he'd been working on. It was incredibly touching how sincere and thoughtful he was in taking care of his little Bounce. Once we were all gathered around the site, Tommy had a bit of trouble putting the box down in the hole. He picked it up a couple times, making sure that the tape was extra secure. He wanted to make sure no dirt got down in the box to mess with Bounce's beautiful white fur. Tommy said a few nice things about his bunny, Bounce, then started to sob. Even as he sobbed and wiped at his nose and eyes, he continued to talk about his bunny. John asked if he wanted him to pray, and John then said a short little prayer. He was so strong and so brave, even as I knew how much it was hurting him. Finally, John covered the grave up and we headed back down to the house. I couldn't keep my tears in check watching Tommy sob and sob over the grave. It was an emotional day for us all.

A 36 year repeat

I turned 36 years old...again. My mother called me the other day, and said she couldn't believe her little girl was turning 36. "Mom, stop it. I'm going to be 37."
"I think I know the age of my own daughter," she said, a bit of huff in her voice.

I had to pause. Really? I was 36 all year. I signed it when asked at the doctor's office. I mentioned it when asked. Truly, I've been 36 all year.

I AM 36!

"Do the math, Cynthia," she demanded. "Am I doing the math right?" Now we were both wondering, and my heart was thudding. I just filled out paperwork at the gym I'm now working out in. I put down 36. The trainer put 36 years old in her computer system. Surely I'm 36, right?

Nope, apparently not. If you subtract 1975 from 2011, you indeed end up with 36.

WHO does this, you ask? Who could possibly make this kind of goof?

Me, apparently.

And so, with that, I am 36 years old.....again.

Untitled, a photo by whippski on Flickr.

Flag Football

Untitled, a photo by whippski on Flickr.

Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2011

Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2011, a photo by whippski on Flickr.

Untitled, a photo by whippski on Flickr.

Spring Updates

Time is flying by, and I realize that Facebook really has killed my blogging abilities. It just hasn't happened, and it's sad, because I will look back and wonder at all the amazing activities that we've missed. DId I blog Tommy's Mario Bros-themed party? Did I capture the wonder of my baby turning 4 with John Deere tractors? Have we updated that Bruce and John have taken the house and turned it inside out with total makeover inside? What about Coop completing Teacher Dana's 3 Day Preschool with a successful year? Tommy's amazing soccer season full of goals? Cooper starting, but not really going to t-ball? Coop's first playdate with Brayden? The stories and stories that Coop can tell? What about Cooper's Cowboy costume, Drywall costume, fireman costume, police officer costume, secret agent costume, football player costume, worker man costume, Indiana Jones costume? Did we tell all about those? Did we talk about how Tommy stood up in front of his school with a speaking role from his music class? Mr. Shy was totally game to get up there and speak to the crowd.
Double weekend trips to the farm? John's Ironman training, and on and on it goes. I can only hope that with this little blog today, the memories down the road will come rushing back. And hopefully I can pick up and do better from here.

Cooper gets a haircut

Every now and again someone would bring up the idea of Cooper actually getting a real haircut. To be quickly followed up by a resounding, "NO". .... from someone, whether it be John, Thomas, or myself, coupled with Cooper's adamant "NO" as well. So days, then months, then years have passed, without more than maybe one trim job by John at some point. Not even sure it was an "event" enough to even take pictures, but we did take a lock of curl to keep. Coop may never truly appreciate the curly top he has, but it sure garners him increasing attention. We can't go anywhere but for someone stopping to touch his hair, to comment on his mop top, to make comments as we pass them by. The curly haired server at Red Robin has commented to me twice now that they should share product stories, and if you have curly, curly hair you understand the necessity for good quality product. (And how the server recognizes us enough to talk about hair is a whole different story!) However, there comes a time when a good thing gets away from you, and Cooper had definitely reached a point where he needed a bit of help with his ringlets. They were dragging down so long they were losing their curl. It was messy and hanging in his eyes. He would even agree with us that he needed some attention, so once we had his buy in, we called up Lindsey and she got him right in.
Chair Drama-Cooper talked a mean tough guy talk all the way to the salon. He wasn't scared. He had no hesitation. He was eager to get his medium sized Lego for being brave. I didn't even sweat the drive over, as I truly thought it was no big deal for him. UNTIL.....he walked in and saw the chair. He fussed, he moaned, he told me "I change my mind!" and loudly, no less. Thank goodness John was there as the voice of reason, and although we ended up holding his hands under the drape (basically holding him down in the chair), he came around once John's distractions caught his attention and he realized Lindsey wasn't going to cut off his head, or whatever changed around in his little mind!

You won't notice a big difference, but it's there. Still the curls, but less "mess". We wouldn't take them down much, though, as this is Coop. Without a head of hair, it just wouldn't be "Coop".

Tommy and Basketball

We didn't give much thought to basketball until Jenny's persuasion finally took and we signed him up. It helps immensely when his best friend Isaac is on his team and WWU's men's assistant coach is also HIS coach. Can't get much better than that, really. I had a bit of perma-grin on the Saturday Jenny called me from the game (I had to work that morning) to tell me Tommy was "on fire" and shooting and making up a storm. My proud-meter was flickering pretty bright that morning.

The other Saturday Jenny also asked if Tommy wanted to be ball boy at the WWU game. It was amazing to walk into Carver Gym, this time not as a young girl checking out the boys, but holding hands with her young son. Pretty wild, really, and I couldn't help but look around at all the people that I didn't know, instead of trying to find my group of friends cheering in the stands. Instead of finding Dan and Dave on the court, there were a bunch of young boys out there that really didn't look older than 17.

Tommy met up with the guy that was in charge of the program, and after a bit, he went his way and I mine. Just as I got settled in my seat about 5 rows up, I looked down to find Tommy under that basket, scrambling after loose balls, yet at the same time with puckered up lips and big eyes. "Is he crying?" I asked John, trying to figure it out. Without waiting for an answer, I headed back down. The nice lady monitoring to make sure no one went out onto the court allowed me to get closer to Tommy, who crumbled into my arms in tears. There on the side, with warm ups all around, here was my little boy crying big tears. He couldn't find me in the crowd and panic set in for him. I assured him that I wouldn't leave and showed him where I was sitting, then when the tears quickly dried, he hurried back to join his fellow ball boys. Poor little guy! What an overwhelming experience for him. He pulled it out, though, quickly figuring out how to operate the broom that they had to use to dry up the court for timeouts. Jenny and I hung out down by the court after halftime, just to make sure the boys stuck it out and finished the game. It was a unique experience for us as well, just different being in the role of parent. Pretty surreal, actually. Pretty surreal. Late that evening, after questioning Tommy on his evening, I asked him if he'd ever want to do it again. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Why not?" I asked. "Mom, I want to play basketball, not sweep their floor." Enough said, and understood completely.

Fall Adventures

John would say that Facebook has ruined my blogging. That and a somewhat lazy attitude have done me in, I'm afraid. It couldn't have been the numerous and unplanned little "adventures" in our lives to deal with. Or crazy schedules at work. Or the onset of a home remodel that was completely unexpected. Or...
One of our major issues this fall came with the return of Tommy's headaches. Maybe they really never left, but were masked by the massive and round the clock doses of pain medicine he took for 9 days straight. Tonsils and adenoids tend to do that, I guess. I felt conflicted in it all, as although the MRI showed a beautiful, clean and clear brain with no monster tumor in there, it was hard to realize that something I too suffer from could possibly be now haunting my little six year old. I understand the pain, the fear that rushes in when that all-telling pounding starts its slow drum in your temple. When Tommy pounded on his eye in a desperate attempt to fight off the pain, my heart pounded and I felt sick with him, knowing how helpless I am to even protect my child from whatever would come. With the almost daily calls from his teacher threatening his education, I realized that it was nothing to play around with anymore.
In this case, you go straight to the best that you can find. Seattle Childrens. That means phone calls, more phone calls, return phone calls, and answering the same questions over and over. You are thankful that you have the opportunity to find the "best", but sometimes talking to medical assistants "helping" their doctor only finds you talking to different people about the same issue, and then repeating it again. Turns out that even double checking doesn't work, as when we finally were able to settle on a pediatric neurologist in Seattle, even wires got crossed when I thought I'd checked in with everyone and they all seemed straight on what info went where. I think we did the best we could. We ruled out his breathing with the removal of his adenoids and tonsils. We saw an eye specialist for his eyes to make sure all was good there. We already had a great MRI. By the time we got down to our Seattle Pediatric Neurologist, I would have been shocked to not hear the word "migraine" for my son.
Although I went down to Seattle with a sagging heart, I left encouraged and hopeful, which is saying something. The facility was great. The med assistant was great in that he loved on Cooper while we were there, taking him out and behind the desk to watch movies while we talked to the doc. I felt that I was heard, and that time was taken to go through things. We opted to start him on a nightly med, one that was a starter and had a long track record. Its an antihistamine, actually, one I'd never heard of in all my research. That's why I'm not paid the big bucks for my Google searches, I guess. Side effects? Increased appetite and sleepiness, which is why we give it at night. We agreed to start the med, as although every mother hates to give a medicine every day, I want to give Thomas the best shot at living each day without a headache, without the worry, without the disruption it causes in his school day. I want to go anywhere I can to let him be free of this, and if that means I give him a nightly shot of medicine, I will have to be ok with that.
An update since November's appointment? Tommy has gained 4 pounds and has had four minor complaints of headache in a bit less than 2 months. Those resolved quickly with a shot of his cocktail, and never blew to migraine. Compared to the 3 out of 4 days of calls from the school that I received the week he started this med, I'd say that this is a fabulous response. I have yet to have the school call me since he started. He gained 4 pounds in the first two weeks, which had me a bit on edge, but it's amazing what an appetite will do for a kid who really could care less about food. He actually asks for breakfast in the morning, which is almost unheard of, and we don't have to shove food in his mouth as he's getting out of the car door for school. He eats now, and that 4 pounds is likely weight he should have already been carrying. We shall see where this takes us, but for now, we are thrilled. We are thrilled that unlike the days of the past, when people crawled into their dark bedrooms to try to outlast the pain, Tommy has hope. My prayer is that they will eventually fade away and all of this will be just a distant "adventure" we blogged about.

Tommy's Tonsils and Adenoids Be GONE Surgery

For over a year now we've been watching Tommy's tonsils. Although not prone to infection, they continued to grow, and grow, and GROW. "Have you seen his tonsils?" his pediatrician would ask each time we went in for other issues. Of course I could see his tonsils. It was as if they turned into little creatures in there, things to be watched and admired for their increasing size. Last year she recommended we take them out. Tommy's ENT, who put his tubes in, also marveled at their size, and continued to chart their progress, but left it up to us in deciding what, if anything, to do with them. We decided to hold off. By summer, Tommy's increasing snoring grabbed our attention, and we noticed that one tonsils was completely touching his little flapper back there in his throat. However, Grandpa said it wasn't necessary to worry about it, as he could still outgrow both these tonsils and his snoring. I couldn't help but think of his future wife. If his own mother couldn't stand to sleep with him, or sleep at all anywhere near him, what would a future wife do with him?
In July, Tommy started a pattern of intense headaches, and we got more and more worried, yet it was another issue we didn't know fit with his tonsils. We asked for an MRI to rule out big and bad uglies in his brain, and found only an ear infection that we knew about and adenoids that were obstructing his airway. Hmmmm....
The ENT at that time advised that we had enough now to move ahead with surgery, and thought that his headaches were more likely due to lack of oxygen at night due to his airway obstruction and tonsils than migraine. We took that with us, yet still didn't do much, as Bruce reviewed the MRI printouts and wasn't convinced enough to proceed. We again sat back and waited. Finally, John and I both noticed a change in Tommy' snoring and then in his daytime "snoring". He was breathing with his mouth open during the day, he sounded very nasally and constricted when talking and his speech was getting worse. I decided we would not wait any more, and called and got a surgery date for November. However, within a day of making that appointment, I noticed that Tommy's chest was sucking inward when he tried to breathe, and after calling Bruce down to check him out, we all agreed he couldn't wait any longer. It was a scary night, wondering if your child would continue to breathe under such stress, but by morning, we had a new appointment set up for the following week with a check up for the following day.
Tommy took the news as well as anyone would. He was a bit nervous about it, but we toured that same surgery center he'd been in for his tubes, talked a bit about "sleepy juice" and searched both Fred Meyer stores for just the right "big Lego". We are dropping a fortune on this kid! On the morning of, he did great, only getting tearful when we finished his blood pressure check and headed for the small room he would take his sleepy juice in. Having two years ago watched this little man take the long wagon ride away from me, I was a bit more prepared this time. I was more confident this time in our decision, knowing that he desperately needed this relief in order to breathe. My anxiety was completely focused on the recovery from this surgery, and the days ahead that we faced. Knowing how cruel and painful this recovery is was eating away at me, although, again, we knew we didn't have a choice. We had to move forward with this. When his surgeon came out to talk with us, he reported that both tonsils had been touching, and he had over 75% obstruction of his airway. He remarked, "I'm not sure how he was breathing." Wow. Talk about serious.
Tommy was crying a bit as he came "out" of the anesthetic, but there was no drama, no crying and screaming that they warned us about. The nurses quickly made a spot for us to cuddle with him on the bed. He was in a lot of pain, but the meds kicked in, along with the popsicles, and he held it together very well. He was "drunk/high" coming out, and he couldn't talk, staring off into space and remarking that there were two of everyone. It was quite entertaining, in a sad way. As he continued to get more with it, John took to the bed to play Angry Birds on the IPad. We were so thankful for the IPad in times like this. At noon, we were finally discharged and ready to go.
Tommy had a great afternoon that day. He played, ate, enjoyed his Legos upstairs. We enjoyed this honeymoon time that we knew would be quick to fade as the heavy hitting meds wore off. By Thursday morning, the pain was greater, and he refused to eat, drink or talk, basically sleeping the day away. On Friday, I lowered his dose of pain med by .5, and he was awake a lot longer, although not eating, drinking or talking. By today, Tommy was struggling to eat, but eating, and talking a bit more than yesterday. He felt well enough to not only get out around the house, but to take an outing to get Slurpees and sandwiches at Subway, as well as work up at the house a lot. A lot. The kid had major surgery three days ago and he was hammering away up at the house. We are so thankful that he is making this much progress so soon, and thrilled that we are not worrying about him not waking up in the morning.

Sideways Tooth-#4

Cooper's 1st Day of 3 Day Preschool

What a wonderful change this morning was! Cooper is eager to go to school, and all week we've tried hyping it up for him. Knowing what a dismal playgroup year we had with him last year, I couldn't help but have doubts and lingering worry over how he would actually do starting back up at Catch The Son. However, I loved Teacher Dana for Tommy, and she was able to pull him through his rough times starting out there, so I had hope going into this day. Cooper was ready, even ate a bite of breakfast before heading out with his huge red backpack that he insisted on taking. I think he put in a stuffed dog and his two dubbies, as we reminded him that he can't suck on his dubbies at school. He didn't put up much fuss, actually, so it was really looking good. Throughout the week, Coop would say, "You will stay with me at my school, right?" He wanted that assurance and was thinking of last year when we would stay and play with him the whole time. We told him again and again that he was a big boy, that we would stay a bit to get him settled in, but would need to go "to the office" and just check in on him. That seemed to satisfy him without too much fuss.
I took him that morning while John got Tommy up to his class. I stayed with him, standing in the back, as he jumped right in playing and exploring all the projects he had around him. After about 15 minutes, I gave him a hug and told him that I needed to check with the office for a few minutes. He didn't seem to care much either way, and quickly went off to play again. I stayed out in the hallway, peeking in on him. He was doing so great I eventually sat down in the hall to wait for John's arrival. We hadn't planned on it being this easy, though. When John arrived, I told him how good he was doing and that we probably should just let him play without going in again. Leaving him was a lot easier than I thought, and John's report later that he did great with the whole morning was quite a relief.

What a difference a summer makes! I can't believe how much change it was going from the tears and fuss of playgroup to this now. I can only hope that Coop continues to enjoy his time with Teacher Dana and all the new projects and fun he will have at his school!

In the pictures....Coop is excited about his big red backpack and Tommy is not excited for another day of school!

Tommy's first day of 1st Grade

This year was not met with the same excitement as kindergarten. In fact, Tommy was down right adamant that he was never going to leave home and never going back to school. He was clearly having trouble facing the fact that summer was coming to a close. The Friday before we made the trek up to the school for Open House, and quickly discovered he had been assigned to a totally new, totally different teacher. I had some inkling of the "teacher pile" he'd been put in at the end of the year, but clearly the workings of Principal Heritage had been hard at it shuffling Ms. Hubner's assessments around during the summer break. I was not at all pleased with this unknown teaching assignment, but after visiting Ms. Hubner down in her room for a quick hello, she assured me that she knew about it, that it had happened quickly, that it had been chaos with all the new teachers and that it would be okay. Really? It was a bit of comfort, but small, meager, too little for such a shock.

The walk up to school actually went pretty well, despite Tommy's misgivings about going. The weather was working for us in that it wasn't a beautiful day out for them to feel bad about missing the beach and inner tubing. We walked with the Cousins Pohlman, so that was fun to be with them. There was lots of encouragement for everyone on that walk up the hill. By the time Tommy was lining up outside his classroom, he was beginning to look scared. I could tell he was trying to pay attention, working to keep it together, but then he would look over at me and there was near panic in his eyes. Going into the class was even worse, as he clung to me, and had to have help putting his coat away and getting his stuff in order. He started to cry as he sat in his seat right up from, and nothing I said seemed to help. I had so much snot and tears on my face at one point I had to use my sleeve to get it all off. Finally, I bet down for one last hold and cuddle, loved on him with all I had in me, then peeled his little body off mine and walked away. He was crying as we all left. Thankfully, Georgia had come up with us and was wrangling Coop so we didn't have to worry about him. What a sad, sad morning to leave my sweet boy. It's not the way any mother wants to leave her child. It's so hard to fight the urge to make it all better and take him back home. It's hard not to paint yourself against the door and watch him all day to truly make sure he is okay. Georgia wouldn't be able to text me updates throughout the day about all the wonderful things he was doing. Six hours? Last year his longest day was 3 hours and 15 minutes on the few occasions he stayed for lunch. Six hours not knowing how my boy is?

When we went to pick him up he was all smiles and happy to report that he had liked the day. "It's too long, though," he said, walking home. "Why can't you just come pick me up at lunch?" Once home, it was off to find Johnny and back full steam with play, almost like the day was just a blip in his plan, a minor annoyance for his grand plans of legos, biking and beach. I could only hope tomorrow would be better for him, that it wouldn't be so hard, that there wouldn't be as many tears......

Morning of Ironman Canada-morning hours

What does the wife of an ironman do in the early hours of the morning? Instead of helping John down to the transition area and being there to support and cheer, I am sitting in this chair, in the dark, listening to the snores of our beautiful little boys. Erica and I debated the pros and cons to waking them up and hustling them down for the start, but due to the long day ahead, we will keep them asleep for the start, then drag them down for the finish of the swim! So here I sit, looking out my hotel balcony, watching all the chaos from afar.

Today we went tubing with the kids. We're going to keep track of this summer!

John and Brad do 100!

John and Brad headed out at 5:40 am this morning to get in 75 miles. They completed 100! Heavy training has started!

Summer has started!

Kids, kids everywhere! Today marked the beginning of a crazy summer I think. The Pohlmans are here, the Hutchisons are here, the Ziolas are here, Stephen, Barb and the girls are here, Mark, Robin and the three kids are here! What a wonderful, beautiful start! Let it be know that Josh and John Ziola got up on the ski trainer. Anna and Johnny got up on the trainer. Grace and Emma got up on the trainer. Lily and Tommy got up on the trainer. Amazing kids! And Grandpa Bruce was running the boat and inner tube hot and heavy all afternoon! Wild and Wooley!