...and then humanity up and makes me smile.

Craziest thing about my recent days: Every single time tears have threatened to spill, they were stopped mid-plunge by some loving human. Then that love has totally obliterated the need for tears. One example of this was that my priceless iflip movies I have been uploading (like it's my job) stopped saving. As did my more-precious-than-gold pictures. In fact, nothing would load and it looked like a lot of my files VANISHED. I know everyone with a sentimental soul says they would first grab the pictures before leaving their burning down homes, and let's face it: our computers have become our photo albums. When the idea that all of this could just POOF! disappear, the tears were very real. Then Scott Poehlman of Wired Solutions came to the rescue. Tom knows Scott well, and called him to save our memories. Scott was able to save everything I thought was lost and I now have enough room for another lifetime of pictures and movies. Yet again, AGAIN, here is a company who refused to let me PAY. What is going ON with the world I have been taught was so greedy? I said I HAD to give something, because, COME ON! I have been the Queen of Takers lately. His answer? He wanted me to donate what he would normally charge to Childhood Cancer Research. Wow. More good souls popping out of every vocation.

Another example: I ran my fingers through Gideon's hair this morning and CHUNKS, not strands, CHUNKS of hair came out. We are in our shedding season, everyone. It is real and it is rapid. I thought I had a harness around this losing-the-hair bit. There's just something about the reality of cancer that happened when the first chunk of hair follicles landed in my hand. All of this treatment is doing that much to the outer layers of my boy, what about the insides? Tears. Again. Then, here I go...admitting my insanity again, THEN I started scooping up every lost chunk and putting it in a big baggie labeled, "Gideon's sheddings." I'm keeping the hair. Would it be extra creepy if I put a handful of hair in clear Christmas ornaments and painted the outside with some Golden Childhood Cancer ribbon with something that says, "We believe in Miracles..."? Would that be weird? Because I am halfway planning on making one for my Christmas tree and my parents. I won't be mass producing them, don't worry. Just the immediate family will get one. Merry Christmas, family! You can't take it back. That would be even more awkward.

So, that was a tangent. The tears started to well up as I started to scoop off more hair from Gideon's pillow, his clothes, everywhere. I was on some Zombie-Hair-Finding Mission and it was really quite sad. Nothing could stop me or detract me. Here I was, about to let it all explode into hiccups and a snot-snorting cry when I heard a car in the driveway. Linda Parker, a friend from church, drove up. She had a present wrapped for Gideon. When Gideon opened it, he shouted out with immense joy! It was a knitted BATMAN hat (as seen in the picture above). Gideon's church school sent him a crown that he has been wearing every single day, but the crown came off when the hat arrived. He put the hat on his head and beamed. It fits beautifully and it will cover his shiny noggin of the future. I was so very touched by this. Linda wrote in her card, "When I knitted this hat, it was embedded with prayer. And although it is washer and dryer friendly, the prayers won't wash out."

When Gideon took the hat off, more hair stayed inside. He gave it to me and said, "Here you go, mom. More hair for your collection," and then he gave me another eye-disappearing smile. Wake up call for Amanda. It's the BOY, not the hair. THE BOY. I got over my hair picking up obsession (with a little help from my friends)... I'm so thankful for that.

As far as Gideon's health is concerned, things are okay. He has a low-grade fever that I have to watch along with a horrible cough and green boogers and diarrhea. So, we have to just keep monitoring and pumping him full of liquids. If his fever gets higher, I will have to bring him in to the hospital. I'm praying it doesn't. I'm also praying that this doesn't slow down the progress for next week. Next week: The big one. I feel like I keep saying that. "This is IT! The biggest!" Maybe I should just say, "the most intense so far." Gideon will be getting an all day chemo treatment and then we will be in each day for a shot of more chemo....Every day. Julie Jenkins, I will be calling you soon for a mom perspective of all of this. Please be ready :). More friends to stop potential tears -- GOOD. I will earn my PhD in Appreciation due to all of you darlings out there who help SO much.

My boys, of course, are my main source of laughter and deterrent from tired/sad tears. There is some nasty bug running rampant in Brody's class, so his teacher called me about it. We chose to keep him home to avoid that situation. So, we practiced RHYMING words today. LOTS of rhyming words. As the boys were brushing their teeth tonight, Brody started to sing, "So if you're too school for cool..." Gideon then piped in with, "And you're treated like a fool! And you act just like a tool! And you poop in the pool! KEEP YOUR HEAD UP!" He added his own lyrics there, did you notice? Not only was I proud that he understood the lesson, but the use of HUMOR mixed in with Pop Culture. AH! I love those giggle-clowns. Where was my iFlip for THAT one?!