What Would You Do?

So many times in parenting, an unexpected situation arises where I don't really know quite how I wish to respond. I'm sure there are quite a few possible responses and probably more than one of the possible responses would even be considered a good response. None of us parent exactly like another person, but it is interesting to consider how someone else might have responded.

On Saturday night, my ES was invited to a birthday party at a roller skating rink a few towns over. I always appreciate when we can car pool in these situations, and don't really mind the late night pick-ups, since I am usually up until midnight or 1 a.m. So, I headed over to pick up my son and his two friends.

As they entered the car, they were boisterous and jovial. They began to regale me with tales of their big wins in the arcade and some pestering of the authorities for the "insane" ruling against hats out on the rink. I had chuckled when I noticed a piece of paper lying on the table near their gear. It said "Hats are podiness" or something like that. They translated. The writer had been trying to spell poisonous. (I promise there was no alcohol involved at this middle school party!)

One of the boys began to call home on his cell phone. He tried several times and when no one picked up he began to get really crazy with his messages. He would say things like "I know you can hear me. Pick up. I'm just going to sing the Canadian national anthem until you pick up." I was surprised he actually knew the words (this song, by the way, used to be in our church hymnal at the back and it always made us kids laugh when my older brothers would request it during the hymn request time on Sunday nights).

In an aha! moment, he realized that he should call his sister's cell because she is always up. She did indeed answer and he begged her to go get the mother so he could ask if the other friend could spend the night (we haven't been allowing ES many overnights because of his illness). As he waited for the mother to come to the phone, he was explaining to the other boys that if he asks his mother to have someone spend the night during the day she always says "no," but by 11 p.m., she usually is so tired she just says yes.

Apparently, she did the uncharacteristic. She stuck to her guns. Her answer was no and you could hear the tone of the conversation begin to turn ugly. What surprised me was how ugly it turned. The boy didn't curse his mother or anything, but I would say that his response was disrespectful (especially given the fact that the rest of us were hostage listeners to this conversation). He felt that she was being unfair, since his sister had just had a sleepover. I guess what really got to me was that this boy accused his parents of denying his request because they wanted to safeguard their daughters. After angrily hanging up on his mother, the boys began to discuss the mother and "injustice."

Of course, I was reeling over a completely different injustice. Now, I understand that pre-adolescent minds are highly egocentric. I understand that boys will vent when they are frustrated. What I found myself confused about was what my response should be.

I really wanted to say something, but didn't feel comfortable. In the end, the minute I was alone in the van with my ES, I said, "If you ever speak to me on the phone in the manner that ***** just did, you will regret it for a good long time. I would have never expected such disrespect to come from *******. She is his mother and whether he agrees with her decision or not, he should treat her with respect."

When I mentioned the uncomfortable incident to my husband, he said I should have asked for the conversation to stop. As soon as I heard him give his take, my mind went off on a Becky Bloomwood tangent and I imagined myself bringing the car to a stop and asking the child to stand outside of the car if he wished to continue his conversation. Even now, when I think about it, I don't know what I should have done.

So, I ask - what would you do in a similar situation? Have you been in a similar situation?

And, since I'm begging for feedback, I'll add another scenario. ES has missed most of this week of school. He missed last Friday because of the colonoscopy. He missed Monday because he awoke with a headache and intense nausea (we wondered if, in his weakened state, he had picked up the flu Saturday night). On Tuesday, he awoke with a severe headache, but I took him to school at 11 when it cleared up. On Wednesday morning, he threw up.

I was really anxious for him to go back to school today, because I'm sick of having him home pestering the little boys and today is my one free day he is missing too much school and especially because he would miss a field trip today. It wasn't just any field trip. It was a field trip to see Charles Dicken's A Christmas Carol in Indianapolis, followed by lunch at Acupulco Joe's restaurant. It was a field trip I already paid $15 for him to attend.

I argued with him for quite a while this morning, while trying to get the little boys dressed and off to school (I didn't even manage to give them breakfast). I tried to remind him that he would probably feel better and even if he didn't, couldn't he bear the pain in order to take advantage of this cool opportunity. (O.K., once again, I did a bit of Becky Bloomwood rambling - imagining myself driving to the theater after dropping off my little boys at preschool, to see if I could use my son's ticket and see the play with his class - oooh, maybe I should have threatened this! The humiliation of that could certainly get a 7th grader up and moving.)

Thing is, his father and I had already discussed this possibility (since he's been sick like this and the infection seems to be getting worse). We understand his anxiety and concern that he might get on the bus and then feel sick and have no escape. We understand that he feels really horrible in the morning (this is characteristic of H. Pylori infections).

Would you have forced him to go anyway? We had agreed not to force him. I didn't take our parental decision very well, though. I grumbled quite a bit today (bad mommy) over his missing the play, over his rousing in the afternoons, over his accumulating absences. ES spent most of the day apologizing. Of course, then I had to tell him the apology was unnecessary, since he couldn't help being sick and I know he did want to go (maybe not as much as I wanted to go, but he did want to go with his friends on a field trip).

Another Painless Way to Help

Two Coleman posts in a row. Just consider Coleman and Caden part of the "Boys" in my blog name!

Michelle Brownlow has come up with an interesting idea for possibly securing more money to fight against childhood cancer. Her heart has also been aching for Team Larson and her idea offers up another painless way to help. If you go to her post, you can link to the John Deere comment page. She is asking her readers to petition the John Deere company to make a donation to CureSearch.org in honor of Coleman Larson. The Larson twins love John Deere. In my comments to the company, I mentioned that every time I see the John Deere logo I think of and pray for Coleman. I also added that I think the twins would make fabulous spokesmen in a commercial.

Anyway, you can easily join this grass-roots effort and send a quick comment to John Deere, asking them to make a donation.

If you are interested in spending money while supporting Childhood Cancer Research, check out Michelle's other site, Its for the Kids, where she takes orders for hand-made namesakes. I purchased one for my niece Amelia (a leukemia survivor) and it was adorable, see? Christmas is coming ... why not give a gift that gives back?

Carry Coleman in Prayer

Due to my sinus infection, I haven't snagged as much time on the computer lately. On the same day that my ES had his endoscopy/colonoscopy, and we received the good news that he doesn't have Crohn's, Coleman Larson underwent an MRI and they received the difficult news (with these precious twin four year old boys right in the room) that Coleman's cancer has spread. Both chemotherapy and the 3f8 treatments they were hoping to try, are no longer options. He is also displaying tremors and slurred speech. Today was quite an exhausting day for them, with more tests to try to determine the source of the tremors.

As Peggy put it:

"So a recap- Cman's day...one finger poke,one catscan, one port access, one infusion, one E.E.G., one omaya access, one bouncy brother trying his best to sit still and be supportive and entertaining for an almost ten hour day. TWO exhausted parents."

My heart is aching for this precious family. I cannot do anything to ease their anxiety, but I can pray and encourage everyone I know to lift them up in prayer. Please remember Caden, Coleman's twin brother, as well. He is watching this whole thing unfold and is extremely concerned about his brother.

As for our good news, we haven't been able to take any action on it yet. ES came to us in the middle of the night to say he felt really ill. We kept him home from school today and had to cancel an orthodontic appointment (it was a tightening, so we temporarily held off that pain).

With his nausea, we didn't feel good about starting the two week triple therapy (consisting of two strong antibiotics and a proton pump inhibitor). Plus, I have been trying to reach the doctor with questions about scheduling these medicines. It gets a bit complicated when the Prevacid is supposed to be taken on an empty stomach, and one of the antibiotics isn't supposed to be taken within six hours of an antacid or with calcium or any vitamin supplements. We are trying to determine a schedule for his meds, his vitamin and his probiotic.

Of course, our primary prayer for ES is that this doesn't prove to be an antibiotic resistant strain of H. Pylori. We are hoping that the two week course of heavy meds will eliminate the bacterial infection, allowing him enough time to strengthen his body for the coming wrestling season.

We have been extremely grateful for the prayers of family, friends back in DeKalb and those who stay connected with us through the internet. If we have been encouraged by the relatively small number of people praying for ES, think how encouraging the numerous prayers for Coleman help to strengthen and support his family. Take a moment to watch this video of their family, visit their carepage and say an extra prayer for Coleman and Team Larson, because they "neva div up!"

What Lurks In Your Intestines?

This past summer, my ES attended a camp here in Indiana. He had a fabulous time, but from the moment he returned home, he seemed to be battling some sort of bug. At first, we attributed it to fatigue. As the weeks went by and he didn't improve, we thought it might be a parasite picked up in the camp's pool (there were rampant cases of cryptosporidium in the news this summer). Trips to our regular doctor weren't providing answers either. He was tested for parasites, lactose intolerance, and celiac disease. Finally, we were referred to a GI. This doctor suggested it might be Crohn's Disease and scheduled an endoscopy/colonoscopy for this past Friday.

Unfortunately (or maybe that was fortunate, given my medical squeamishness), I am in the throes of a miserable sinus infection, so my husband took ES. He reported that he found it a very emotional thing to watch his son go unconscious (especially since we have friends whose brother/brother-in-law underwent a routine dental surgery and suffered complications from the anesthesia).

He didn't have long to linger in the emotion, however, because the doctor immediately began explaining what he was seeing on the monitor. My husband said it was fascinating. They performed the endoscopy first. The doctor noted an ulcer in his throat, which signals the presence of infection. There was also inflammation at the entrance to the stomach.

The doctor's comments during the colonoscopy were encouraging. Things looked good, despite a substantial amount of inflammation there as well. His assessment ruled out Chrohn's, thank goodness. He now believes that ES is battling a case of chronic gastritis brought on by an H. Pylori infection.

As soon as my husband called with the news, I went on-line to search for information. Not surprisingly, my son did the same when he returned home. Gone are the days where you can say to your child, "The doctor thinks you have an infection, so you need to take this medicine. O.K., off with you now ... go play."

I was surprised to discover how widespread H. Pylori really is. Wikipedia said, "Helicobacter pylori (pronounced /ˌhɛlɪkəˈbæktɚ pɪˈlɔəraɪ/) is a gram-negative, microaerophilic bacterium that inhabits various areas of the stomach and duodenum. It causes a chronic low-level inflammation of the stomach lining and is strongly linked to the development of duodenal and gastric ulcers and stomach cancer. Over 80% of individuals infected with the bacterium are asymptomatic....
More than 50% of the world's population harbour H. pylori in their upper gastrointestinal tract. Infection is more prevalent in developing countries. The route of transmission is unknown, although individuals become infected in childhood.... At least half the world's population are infected by the bacterium, making it the most widespread infection in the world."

Say what? Half the world's population are walking around with this bacteria inside? Now, this shouldn't surprise me. I myself discovered that I was hosting a parasite called B. Hominus (now why are so many of these darn things an abbreviated first name followed by a weird sounding second name?) long after I had returned from missionary work in the Philippines.

My son and I contracted the ultra common Giardia and the tests revealed that I was also an asymptomatic carrier of B. Hominus. (Wikipedia informs me that B. Hominus is now called "Blastocytosis.") I believe I was prescribed one of the same antibiotics ES has been given. After several attempts failed to eradicate it with antibiotics, doctors suggested an intensive regime of multiple antibiotics over several months. I decided against it, because I was asymptomatic. When I was tested during my last pregnancy, no sign of the B. Hominus showed up. I'm hoping he has packed his bags and left, never to return to the hospitality of my intestines!

Now, I am facing the treatment plan for my son. He has been given prescriptions for two different antibiotics and an antacid (Prevacid). We are still unsure exactly how to schedule these doses, since the Prevacid should be taken on an empty stomach and one of the antacids should be taken six hours after any antacids and separate from dairy products (apparently the calcium in the dairy products can bind to the antibiotic, diminishing its effectiveness).

I am really grateful that ES does not have Crohn's. That would be a life-long journey. Although many of these parasites and bacterial infections seem to be growing antibiotic resistant, I am hoping that this prescribed course of treatment will rid ES of his difficulties and allow him to resume with healthy adolescent weight gain. The doctor did warn that "the treatment is often worse than the disease," so we shall wait and see how ES fares with the medicines while attending school.

The doctor also performed several biopsies of the tissues within ES's intestines and throat and we should receive those results in a few weeks. ES was able to score more gross factor points because the doctor sent him home with eight pictures of his throat, esophagus and intestines.

This whole thing has fascinated MS, who continues to talk about taking pictures inside of people. I recently purchased a new digital camera and he wanted to know if I could take pictures of his insides now. Ha!

We plan to start ES on a pro-biotic, which my husband has been taking for several years, called "Healthy Trinity." (Come to think of it, I took Healthy Trinity for about a year around the time of MS's birth. I wonder if the probiotic helped eliminate my lingering parasite?) If 50% of my readers are carrying this bacteria within them, and 80% of those are asymptomatic, perhaps you should look into probiotics, too? It certainly makes you wonder what is lurking in your intestines!

Anticlimactic Reveal of the Snake Cake

I am so thankful to Amy for her suggestion of purchasing a card reader. It only cost $13 and it enabled me to save my photos and videos from MS's birthday (taken at the end of September). I feel so relieved.

So, here are the long-awaited photos of the coral snake cake which MS requested for his birthday. I was fairly disappointed with how it turned out and would love to try it again (perhaps next year he'll still be interested in snakes). First off, it called for two cakes in bundt pans. I made one vanilla and one chocolate, but because I rushed through the frosting task, you could sort of see through to the different bits of cake color. Plus, two cakes is WAY TOO MUCH for our small family of five. We ended up throwing half of it out, even though I tried freezing some of it.




I think, if I attempt this again, I will do things differently. I will only prepare one batch of cake batter and will fill the bundt pan with half of the batter (don't know if this will make it too flat, but as it was, it was very large and round). Next time, I would approach the frosting differently as well. To save time, I chose to use my larger Tupperware frosting tips. It did save time, but the cake ended up looking like a furry caterpillar instead of a snake.

Still, MS loved it and that is what matters. And, yah-rah, I managed to retain pictures of the cake for posterity. I am adding in a photo of YS, moments before he stealthily snitched the camera and placed it in the sandbox. With an adorable face like that, I couldn't be mad at him. Hey, he knew I really wanted to have a camera with sound accompanying my videos!

Pleasant Places

For some reason, I spent a portion of my day today thinking about some material things and opportunities I don't have (I can promise, "materialistic" is not a word anyone who knows me would associate with me). But as I end this day, my mindset has shifted. I'm not sure what to attribute this to, except perhaps it was a God thing. Apart from the hour and a half I spent in line waiting to vote (and most of that time, my focus was on keeping YS from bothering others with his impatience, not really talking to others), I didn't really do anything besides taking care of my family.

Still, tonight as I read updates from several families that I pray for (Coleman Larson, who is not feeling great, but is still headed to NY to begin another round of treatment; Nicholas Delefice -sp? - who did a fantastic job swallowing his chemo pills despite often having difficulty with this; Janae, who is still at the beginning stages of her cancer battle [new address for her updates at www.caringbridge.org/visit/janae]; my precious niece, Amelia, who looked so sweet in her costume), I have been thinking along the same lines as another blogger I read recently (sometimes I read so many of them that I can't remember where I read something or which location I made what reply to).

I'm realizing that even though my life is not perfect, my family is not perfect, my attitudes are not always perfect, my abilities as mother and wife are not always perfect, even still "the lines have fallen to me in fine places." Some blogger mentioned this verse of Scripture on their blog (perhaps it was MckMama, when I was reviewing older posts last night).

Here is the actual verse:

Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.
Psalm 16:5-6

I believe it. God has given me so much to be grateful for. So, I am counting my blessings tonight. I'll also be kissing some of them in a few moments, when I head off to bed (although I may skip kissing ES, since he is all the way up in a loft bed, and besides, he might swat me away and say "Get off me freakin' kitty!").

Learning the Laws of Physics and the Strength of Branches

My ES is learning lots these days (ohh, I'm hearing a former principal in my mind even as I type - she would always end the morning's announcements with a lilting "Learn Lots!"). Most of these are not lessons he is hearing from us. Oh, the words may be going into the ear canal, but the brain is stuck in that adolescent mode, like a scratch on an old LP, convinced that his own wisdom is sufficient.

A glimmer of daylight penetrated his closed mind today. For a nanosecond of his life now, he is appreciating the full truth that parents don't just speak to hear their own voices and they don't give advice (or should I say, forbid actions) merely because we "never want to let them have any fun at all." I don't know how long this nanosecond will last, but I'm aching for him to benefit from some aches and pains.

My husband is not a handy-man. He is an intellectual. A book-man. A thought-man. Apart from a few hammers, some screwdrivers, lug nuts (whatever those are) and wrenches, he is tool-free. However, for the time being we are living in his deceased grandmother's home, where my father-in-law has stocked a whole assortment of tools along the walls of the garage. This is like a dream come true to a 12 year old boy, though possibly a nightmare for his parents.

ES and a friend went for a walk in our woods this afternoon. Prior to leaving, my husband took the time to call Robert (a man who often hunts in our woods on weekends) to ensure the boys' safety. Robert was not hunting, so they were free to explore.

While exploring, they came upon a lengthy vine hanging from a tree. Somehow, they managed to pull the vine down and bring it back to the house. If I had to guess, I'd say it was 20 or 30 feet long. I had to ask them to move it off the driveway because I was heading off on a brief shopping trip with MS.

While I was gone, my husband informed me, they got out a ladder and nailed the vine to a branch on a tree. They cut off the bottom with a saw and were swinging from it. Unfortunately, contentment with anything new doesn't last long for my son, so they were hatching another plan. I'm guessing my husband stifled these shenanigans, because when I arrived home, the friend was gone and ES was inside. Hubby just wanted me to be aware of what ES had been plotting, because he was going downstairs to exercise for a while. ES had actually wanted to climb a bigger tree and hang the vine from a distance higher up. Moreover, he was upset because my husband wouldn't let him try it. I shook my head, commiserating on the inherent risk of raising adolescent boys.

Hoping to run off some little boy energy and delay the task of making dinner, I took the boys outside to play. Before I knew it, ES was up in a tree, bemoaning his overly strict, safety-conscious father. He attempted to show me what he had wanted to do. He even asked me to get the nails, hammer and leftover vine for him.

Of course, there was no way I was cancelling the other parent's "NO," but I did listen to him voice his plan. I began explaining my own support of the "grouch's decision." My primary concern was that the branch didn't look to be strong enough to hold ES's weight.

How, indeed, can you prove that a branch is strong enough to hold your weight, without swinging out onto the branch. I believe he was mid-sentence saying, "See, it CAN support my ... (oh, say, a yard away from the trunk of the tree and probably 15 feet off the ground)." He didn't get to the word "weight." If he did, it was drowned out by my wail. Because his hands were still around the branch (you know, don't you, that these things don't REALLY happen in slow-motion, even though they appear that way to the brain and the eye), he took the blunt of the fall on his tail-bone. He did hop up quickly in an attempt to convince me that he was fine.

Of course, I felt it necessary to regale him with stories of how lucky he was. He wasn't holding a hammer and nails during the fall. He landed on soft grassy ground. He didn't get impaled by either the branch or anything else lying on the ground. He is still alive. He can still walk. Etc., probably ad nauseam.

At first, he didn't want to tell his dad. He took the huge broken limb down to the draw. I was going to honor that, but did intend to blog about it (thinking, we'll see if hubby is one of my readers or not - ha!). He ended up telling on himself (probably because his rear end is hurting).

Wait a minute - didn't I recently blog about how a boy is not likely to tell on himself??? However, this time, he had the added element of his entire family watching, apart from his dad, so I'm guessing he figured it was better to come from his own mouth than MS's.

Not sure what he'll feel like tomorrow morning, but I doubt it will be a stomach-ache he'll be complaining of this time. Still, I'm sure I'll be understanding and empathetic. After all, I've experienced my own streaks of "I know better than my Father." Indeed, many of those scratches on my brain's LP were playing long after I had passed adolescence. I'll be understanding and empathetic because I know what a bruised tail-bone feels like, even if I'm not a tree-climber or a boy!