Superhero!!

[caption id="attachment_4765" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="A famiy of SUPERheroes (including Super Diaper Baby!)"][/caption]

In the past, whenever I would request something on Ellie's behalf--a photo for the Wall of Love, a book, crayons, you name it---one of the first people to respond would be my grabulous friend, Jennifer McKeag.  So when she told me of a 6-year-old boy, the son of a colleague, who just started chemotherapy, I knew I had to do something.

The family is asking for photos (to be sent to his hospital room in Milwaukee) of people wearing a super hero shirt and/or holding a super hero sign to show Sam how people all over the world are praying and thinking about him.  He had a hard time believing that 500 temples around the country were praying for him,

[caption id="attachment_4766" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Super Diaper Baby!!"][/caption]

I think it would be sawesome (so awesome) if he ended up getting more than 500 photos from super heroes all over the country and the world.  Here is the address, if you feel so inspired to send a photo...

Sam Sommer, E571

Children's Hospital of Wisconsin

P.O. Box 1997

Milwaukee, Wisconsin 53201-1997

Here is a link to the Sam's blog site....http://supermansamuel.blogspot.com/2012/06/superheroes-for-

sam-photo-project.html. Thanks!

Magic Wands or even Talismans...

[caption id="attachment_4747" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Ben with his first grade teacher, Mrs. H on the last day of school."][/caption]

Seven can be challenging.  Just on the verge of being a bigger kid.  A younger kid no longer, but desperately trying to hang on to the joys of it for just a moment longer.  Knowing that those magical beliefs in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny will soon fade away as a distant memory.  Ben so loves all the magic of childhood, he has decided that he will ask for a magic wand from Santa Claus, a REAL magic wand that does REAL magic.  He would even settle for a magic talisman, but only, again, if it were REAL.  He could then wish for no bad things to happen to our family (such as no fires in our home).  He could also help the polar ice caps to stay frozen or make sure the sun doesn't explode.  So many big worries to contemplate when you are seven.

Last week was challenging, Lotta and I readjusting to having Ben at home with us.  He seems to have gotten so used to his school routine, that at times, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself at home.  My vision for this summer is a Summer of Fun (as opposed to all those other not-so-fun summers I planned), and along those lines, I have decided that each week we will go on a field trip--somewhere within an hour and half of our home where we can go explore.  A day trip.

Friday we decided to go to the Science and Children's Museums in Rockford.  As we were preparing for our trip, Ben was having numerous meltdowns.  He wanted to take his sketch pad and his pencil and sharpener and a big eraser.  When he went upstairs, he set his pencil sharpener down and immediately panicked that it was lost.  From downstairs, I suggested he re-trace his steps.  He became more panicked and shouted that it wasn't in the bathroom where he knew he left it.

If I try to explain things to Ben, particularly if he is upset, he immediately takes my explanation as a lecture.  I was pondering how with Ellie, I could talk with her about things we were working through.  And she LOVED it.  Ben, on the other hand, will tell me, "You're talking like a grown-up."  So I knew I needed to change my strategy with him.  He was challenging me to become more. As I was pondering how to change my strategy, Ellie seemed to whisper in my ear, "make it fun".  Whenever we would converse about something, we would find a way to make it fun.  Being sad was "Eeyore-ish", being scared was "Pigglet-ish", we would ponder what character might be more useful.  For example, if Ellie was feeling Pigglet-ish about getting off the bus, we decided that Tigger would bounce off that bus without hesitation, so she would become "Tigger-ish" in order to summon the courage.  Ellie's advice to me was to make it fun for Ben and he would totally be invested in whatever

[caption id="attachment_4759" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Ben being chased by a T-Rex at the Science Museum!!!"][/caption]

was happening.

Ok, so back to Friday morning.  Ben came downstairs and I lectured him and he screamed and cried saying I wasn't hearing what he was saying.  He wished that his Dad could stay home and I could go to work.  It was, once again, so obviously, not working.

We stopped for a moment.  Suddenly, it came to me (thanks, Ellie!)  I hesitantly said, "What if you were a detective and you had a job to find something missing and you wouldn't get paid unless you found the missing object?  What would you need to do to solve the mystery?  A magnifying glass perhaps?  Clues as to where the missing object was?"  Then we were all racing upstairs with a kaleidoscope (in lieu of a magnifying glass) to search for the missing pencil sharpener.  I walked upstairs and immediately spotted the missing item on the bed.  I told Ben (trying mightily hard not to

[caption id="attachment_4758" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Ben being eaten by a T-Rex at the Science Museum!!!"][/caption]

lecture) that I felt like I KNEW I could find it and so I found it right away, I think that is my REAL magic wand.  Ben told me that he was testing me, which I said, I must have passed that test, then.

We continued to prepare for our trip, and we still were not getting along, dagnabbit.  I challenged Ben.  (Ben is highly competitive and loves a challenge).  What if we had a contest all day to see who could come up with the longest list of things we liked about each other.  He was still feeling a bit grumpy, and said he didn't want to.  I said that the best thing that would come out of a contest like that is that I would feel better, so I would still do it even if he didn't want to.  Quickly Ben changed his mind, which I told him was the first thing I appreciated about him, that he was willing to change his mind.   His first items were things about his Dad, for example how I helped his Dad to cook, or that I married such a great man.  I suggested we save all the Daddy appreciation for Sunday (Father's Day).

Just looking for what we liked about each other changed the entire day.  Suddenly all that love and appreciation spilled over from Ben to Lotta.  He was calling her "my little love" and pouring his attention on her.  They even had a dance party together.  I guess it is

[caption id="attachment_4760" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Ben and Lotta at the Rockford Childrens Museum."][/caption]

inspiring to me to realize how one small step can completely transform the day.

Then Friday night, I awoke from this great dream.  There was a little kid in the dream.  I knew it was boy, but I couldn't see him.  I just knew that I really really liked him, I liked talking with him and just being with him.  When I woke up, I realized that it was Ben I had been dreaming about, the feeling of Ben.  It was as if Ellie were showing me how to recognize the feeling of him.  And what a great feeling it was.  I guess I still believe in magic too.

 

First Impressions

[caption id="attachment_4730" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Ellie and Izzy"][/caption]

Maybe a year ago I was walking Izzy, Ellie's school friend, to our house for a play date.  As we were walking we came upon a woman who was sitting by the sidewalk in her yard holding 3 guinea pigs.  I think Ben said something about the animals to the woman or I did, and the woman did not respond at all.  I immediately began to get offended, "Who does she think she IS not speaking to my adorable child??  How dare she!"  After we'd passed her, Izzy suggested that maybe she was deaf and did not hear Ben's comment.  Wow.  I thought that was a much much nicer thought than the ones I had been thinking.

Last weekend we walked to a fishing spot nearby.  As we walked, I saw the same (grumpy in my head) woman sitting outside her home holding guinea pigs.  Thom was ahead of us and stopped to chat with her as if he knew her.  I immediately thought she must work at the DOR.  Then Thom introduced us

[caption id="attachment_4744" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Lotta and one of her babies."][/caption]

and told me how she volunteered in Ben's swimming class as she used to be a swim instructor.  I thanked her for her assistance.  Then we went on to exploring and fishing.

As Lotta and I headed home later, the woman and her husband were in the front yard.  She had carried out her third guinea pig and made a point of showing Lotta what her pets could do.  As we continued on our walk, a little girl walked by and the couple said, "Oh, you're later than usual today, " as if seeing her was a daily occurrence.

What shocked me was how, once again, my initial rush to judgment was so so wrong.  The woman shared with me as we talked how she had just finished treatment for Kidney cancer.  I thought back to that day when she wasn't talking to us and wondered if maybe she just hadn't been feeling well.  I know I've mentioned in a previous blog about a neighborhood woman I felt slighted by whom I later realized just cannot see well.  I mean seriously how many opportunities will I get to stop my rush to judgement?  I guess that's it, I'll keep getting opportunities until I get it.

 

And the Topic is Things You Find in the Nighttime....

[caption id="attachment_4736" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Lotta learns to drive her car."][/caption]

Lotta has another cold.  Ugh.  The kind where she sounds all rattley and wheezy, which I just absolutely can not stand.  It seems to bother me a whole heck of a lot more than it bothers Lotta.  A few mornings ago when Lotta woke up I asked if she wanted to share with Ben what she had watched the night before.  Immediately, she said, "Moon!"  "Oh, that is a great guess, but no, not the moon," I encouraged her.  "Duck! Duck! Duck!" she exclaimed as if she were a guest on a game show. "Oh another good guess, but no, we saw the train."  For some reason, the train seemed somewhat of a let down after the possibility of the moon and ducks.

Curbside Voting is Available if Necessary

What a week.  Kind of emotional.  OK not even kind of a lot.  Nothing has "happened" per se.  Just that same old yearning, desperate missing of Ellie back again.  Tiresome and wearying.

Tuesday we had a recall election (you may or may not have heard about this).  I went to vote and as I walked into the cafeteria of Ellie's school, the place was empty save for a table full of people to assist voters.  It was like walking onto the set of American Idol, as if I were the contestant and they were the judges.  I immediately began to weep.  (I would not do well under the kind of pressure facing real contestants!)  Because Ben goes to the K-2nd grade elementary school in our neighborhood, we have not, as of yet, made any new memories in Ellie's school.  Anyway, a very kind gentleman gave me some napkins and told me that if I needed to I could do "curbside voting" if that would help.  When Lotta saw that I was weeping, she became scared and sad and she started to wail.  She is not a girl to leave me alone with my sorrow.  Reminded me of the nurse at the hospital who said she never let anyone cry alone (my sister thought she might not let anyone drink alone either...)  Lotta and I stood and cried for a few minutes, while I pulled myself together enough to vote. 

On Wednesday I brought lunch for our favorite oncology nurses.  It is always wange being near the hospital now.  And being in a somewhat weepy emotional state did not help things.  Oh how I longed for one of those days hanging with Ellie in the hospital.  I mean I know everyone thinks the hospital is so horrible.  And there were times just hanging, me and Ellie,

playing office, where all the housework is removed, all those extra distractions, that there was just this awesome energy, peacefulness in the room, as we both went about the business of creating busy-ness.  Me usually blogging.  Ellie usually peeling crayons in her bed. 

Then Thursday I was going through one of Ellie's toys, intending to give it to one of our friends who works with children with Autism.  As I began putting all the pieces back together, I realized, it would have been Ellie who would have taken all the pieces apart.  Sort of like crayons, she could not stand for all the pieces to be together.  I don't know why it just struck me as incredibly sad that her hands were the last to touch those little pieces.  And made me yearn ever more for her.

Lotta being holly-wood.

Then Friday, I was sharing some of this with my mom.  As I was sharing it with my mom, I felt chills, which to me, is my indicator that Ellie is close by (or it's January in Wisconsin).  It was as if Ellie were saying, "It's OK, I know you miss me.  It's OK."  Giving me one of her fantastically terrific Ellie hugs from the ever after.  Later I heard the song, "Brown Eyed Girl" on the radio which always reminds me of Ellie now.  Our favorite PICU nurse shared how she heard that song right after she discovered she was pregnant and felt like it was a message from Ellie, that girl with those bring brown eyes, so wise.

And in a strange way, at times, I don't mind hanging out in this slow tender space.  It feels like it makes me more aware.  More aware of the beauty of these moments with my children.  More aware of the beauty of Wisconsin in the summer time.  More aware and peaceful and appreciative.  So, I'm just planning on resting here until I'm ready to move forward.