Yesterday began my folded-accordion-of-emotions boy. One narrow paper accordion plane is a sweet and happy boy, but it butts right into the paper part that is frustration and moodiness. That one rests on the part of the fan that represents the hunger and the cravings...where nothing else matters and all the world is a chicken drumstick. On and on the fan folds, back and forth, emotion resting upon emotion until the fan is complete and the week that is Steroid Week is fanned into a fire. We never know which section we will be in, and everyone watches him, waiting. I just want to reside in two of those fan sections: the cuddly love and the sweet and kind section.
Before he took his first steroid of this regimen, Gideon was sick twice yesterday, had chemo at the clinic and was the most constipated I have ever seen him. I was supposed to hang out with my cancer-mom-friends last night, but there was no way I could leave the boy with a toilet attached to his bottom as tears ran down his cheeks and he cried, “Owie. Owie. Owie.” He sat there for an hour as I knelt in front of him, rubbing his belly. THANK YOU to all of you who helped with advice! We went the Miralax, 7Up, and Prune juice route. I am happy to report: The Portage sewers tripled in capacity around 10:30 last night. Taaaadaaaaa! Don't worry, I won't attach a picture.
I adore Gideon's free nature, and I know that the drugs hinder who he truly is as a person. I love how he is so in touch with not only his nature, but nature-nature. He will forego any game, any ride, anything at all to plant a flower in the garden with me – even when he is deeply entrenched in his steroid usage. He is so curious about how an ant lives out her day, about the way clouds change shape, and which birds sing which song. He wants to know the name of every plant and every flower. My garden has never been so green, so flower-filled as now. My boy never forgets to water it, he deadheads better than I do, and he always takes the time to admire all that grows from the earth as he weeds. We could both spend an entire day in a greenhouse. My personal, most recent favorite activity is to go on listening walks with my boys. At night, we listen to recordings of birds known to live in our area, we study the sounds and quiz one another (the cardinal thinks everything is “PRETTY.” He is forever chirping, “Purdy! Purdy! Purdypurdypurdypurdy!” A good reminder to look around outside, huh?). Then, we go for a walk the next day and try to pick each song out of the choir of birds. Life is so gorgeously musical when we can isolate every piece of beauty, every section of the bird choir, and appreciate an individual sound. Ugh. May I say how thankful I am for my boys? They slooooow me down to make fleeting moments last, and the smallest and most ignored things the most gorgeous.
I also want to celebrate how my Brody is becoming such a peaceful problem-solver. When Gideon is ready to attack with fists flying during steroids, Brody has a way of blanketing him with peace. We ran out of time for a bath, so it was shower-time instead. I packed them both in there, and immediately there was a fight over who got to be under the water stream. I heard Brody say cheerfully, “I have an idea, Gideon! How about we take turns under there? The person out of the water gets to play with a toy while he waits. Do you want to have the first turn under the water?” Notice how he didn't ask if Gideon wanted to take turns, he just offered Gideon the first turn. This boy is going somewhere. I know it! He also said to me yesterday, “Mommy, if I could get a Beyblade organizer, that would be great. I will sort the parts into different compartments, and then I will have great practice to help you organize your drawers. I could put your paints in one holder, your brushes in another, see? That Beyblade organizer would help both of us.” SQUEEEEEEEZABLE.
Brody and Gideon, when you read this blog someday, I want you to take note of the date. This was the week that our “PEACE SIGN PRAYER TIME” was completely taken over by the two of you. This is a huge deal to me, your mama. Incase you forgot (I hope you haven't), on our way to school each morning, I reach my hand into the backseat. Brody grabs my thumb and Gideon grabs my pinky. Our arms make a peace sign, and I pray about our day. I thank God for waking up and hearing two sweet “Good morning”s coming from your precious mouths. We talk to God about our hopes, about our sins, about things we want to change about ourselves and how we need to love those around us – especially the hard-to-love ones. We pray for grace and that we can extend that grace out of ourselves. Mommy prays that she doesn't lose sight of the good in ALL people, and that her momma-bear claws stop popping out over small issues. Brody prays that he smiles more at people, and Gideon prays that he will try new food without gagging it back up. You both used to add snippets, but let me pray the bulk of it. Not this week. This week, the peace sign was extended and I asked Brody if he wanted to start. Brody, your prayer flowed out of you as you talked to God like the personal savior He is, and I felt tears of absolute elation prick in my eyes. You said after your prayer, “Gideon, would you like to keep going?” And Gideon, you just let it all out: Praising God for the rain because you knew your flowers would grow the best from rain instead of the hose. You went on to pray that you would do better at listening to mommy the FIRST time. Again, you prayed about it all. I felt the Holy Spirit filling my soul with light because of you boys. I can't wait to hear what you will say in today's PEACE SIGN PRAYER TIME. Speaking of, time to go!
The world is going to be alright. Happy Friday, all!