SUCH a pill.

Oh, steroids. You make somethings so difficult, like sleeping. You bring on these bouts of angry rage from the most peace-loving dove of a child. Yet, you cause Gideon to talk in that quicker-than-quick way when all of his thoughts waterfall out of his mouth into the most refreshing pool of savory words. So, I guess I should thank you for those inspiriting dips. He always talks, but just more than normal during this time period. This is a glimpse of Gideon-isms from this morning alone (I had time to type them once they happened so that it was straight from his mouth to this screen...Love jammie Saturdays):

"I want a puppy. I will name him 'Puppy'. Then when he grows up, I will name him 'Grown up'. When he's old, his name will change to 'Oldie'. After that, I'll give him a name once we're both in heaven that he can keep forever. Makes sense, right mommy?"

Gideon wanted to know about the "HEADS" and "TAILS" on every coin. I started with the penny, then the nickel, then the dime and finished with the quarter. He looked at each one for a long time... "So, Abraham Lincoln has a building where people remember him?" (I nod.) "Jefferson lived in a house with a circle roof? (Points at Monticello.)" (I nod.) "Oh! That means the dime man (Roosevelt) used torches to see his trees and branches and WASHINGTON HAD A PET EAGLE?! WOOOOOOOOAH." If it's hard for you to see what he's talking about, get out your change dish and take a peek. This kid and his connections make life AMAZING. He had to suffer through a mommy kissfest after that one.

"I like that we put trees in our houses. (Points at the Christmas tree.) We should put more couches in the forests, too."
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I gave you three, but there are so many more I could type out here. All this steroid time, Brody is still handling his brother's dilated pupils and crazy-man tendencies like a monk who is just cloaked in perpetual peace. Even when I'm upstairs, I can hear Brody say, "Gideon, we don't hit. Gideon, please calm down. Your turn is next, I promise. I don't break promises." He says this so evenly and calmly. For some reason, Gideon's big brother's pleas for peace resound more, and Gideon listens. I refuse to use Brody to be my voice of reason for every fit, though. He is only six and I'm the mommy. But, guess what? During one of those fits, Gideon STAYED IN HIS CUSHY CHAIR when I demanded he do so (to avoid bruises). Is my steroid boy growing up?

Now, since we are on the topic of STEROIDS, I have a confession. I usually tell Gideon how his medicine works and I do so in a way that is kid-friendly, but truthful. I use imagery to describe it...Fantastical and fictional imagery that paints the truth about how it works. How could a child understand it in any other way? This time, though. This time I don't even tell Gideon they are steroids. When I give them to him, I say that he needs to let the pills make him relax and feel the happiness in his heart. Did I say they cause him to be relaxed and have a happy heart? No. I let him believe it, though. Sometimes I think mind-over-matter can work. The whole placebo effect, right? Well, it has worked every night so far. Gideon pretends to crumble into a wistful sleeping-smiling boy as soon as he swallows the pills. And I have to carry my conked out and happy boy up to his bed. Guess what happens then? Since his eyes are already shut and he is convinced his heart is calm and happy? He falls ASLEEP. Sure, he gets up at 2 a.m. demanding noodles, but he FALLS ASLEEP WITHOUT PROTEST. I find nothing wrong with this, and I plan on doing this for the next two years of steroid usage. :)