Tag Archives: Grammy

Why do we even bother?

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After a particularly busy weekend, I was relieved to ship the kids off to school this morning. But the respite was brief, as we spent the afternoon and early evening running from piano practice to soccer, to the other soccer field, to the playground.

As I pushed Reid on the swings, I finally had a chance to ask Aidan how kindergarten treated him today. He said he had a great day. I asked what his favorite thing was and he replied that it was when each child took a turn telling the class what they did over the weekend.

Oh, wow. Mentally I flashed over the events of Aidan’s weekend. On Friday he had swim team practice, followed by a movie at home. On Saturday he scored a goal in his soccer game, then spent the night at his Grammy’s house as a special late-birthday celebration. Said celebration involved ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery, pizza, fudgsicles and something called chocolate lava cake. On Sunday our whole family went to a local orchard and picked apples. Then Aidan ran in a cross-country invitational and placed second in his age group.

I wondered which of these special activities he would have chosen to share with his class.

“What did you say on your turn?”

“I said I just sat around and played video games.”


It’s all fun and games until…

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I flew off to Chicago last week, to meet Byron there for a few days of R and R. My mom kindly offered to watch the boys so I could get away. My plane landed and I called Byron’s cell. He said he was picking up our rental car and would be at the terminal momentarily. That was ALL he said.

As I waited, I noticed that I had a voice mail message, which is very rare for me. I figured it was Byron, from earlier in the day. But no, it was my mom, calling right as my plane must have been taking off. Let me paraphrase – but closely paraphrase – the message: “Mack hit Aidan with a baseball bat! In the face! Oh my god, the blood! The blood! He might lose his eye! Have you taken off yet? We’re going to the ER!”

Needless to say, I completely lost my mind right there at O’Hare. I called Byron back and found out that he already knew, and had been waiting to tell me in person. I couldn’t believe that this would happen to my darling Aidan, who I leave so rarely, when I wasn’t there. My first instinct was to hop right on the next plane back home.

Well, after getting an update (he didn’t lose his eye) and talking to my mom, and talking to my sister, and talking to Aidan, I decided to continue with my long weekend. Aidan’s Grammy and Auntie Emily did a wonderful job taking care of him, waiting for a plastic surgeon to give him 23 stitches, and making sure he didn’t agitate the wound after it was stitched.

I think the only thing worse than seeing your child hurt must be having him get hurt when you aren’t there.

Oh, and lest you think we should be sending Mack for serious counseling – the incident was an accident that happened when Aidan bent over behind Mack as he took a swing.

Aidan


Ah-dee's belly

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Aidan has long had chronic stomach pain. He used to complain about stomach aches as a two year old, but I figured it was the usual kid stuff. Then one day when he was three, my mom said something to him about not feeling well because her stomach hurt. He replied, “But bellies always hurt, Grammy.” I realized we needed to try to figure out what was wrong.

He’s had many of the simpler tests and nothing showed up. So now we’re on to the big stuff. He had an upper GI this morning, which is a test to try to locate problems in the stomach and diaphragm. He had to drink a lot of barium (which the tech flavored with Hershey’s syrup for him, but which still was pretty gross), then stand and lie in a variety of positions on an x-ray table, sipping the barium the whole time, as they photographed him.

He did a very good job. The doctor told me that he didn’t see any obvious ulcers or tumors, which is good news. Apparently, ulcers in four years olds are more common than you’d think.

After that we went across the street and he had four vials of blood drawn. That was far more traumatic for Aidan, but we had a lab technician there who was quick, no nonsense, and got the stick the first time despite Aidan thrashing as hard as he could, screaming, and having difficult veins because he’d fasted 12 hours for the upper GI. I could have kissed her. This is the same lab where I brought Reid when he was nine months old, and took my time explaining to the tech that he had difficult veins, and that we’d had many problems in the past, and we’d had to tie him down and go into his head, and it took many tries, yadda yadda, and she nodded at me, turned around, and had the needle in his vein in about three seconds. I am never going anywhere else.

Next we have to collect some stool and turn that in. That we get to collect at home, Yay. Apparently, we use saran wrap.

Anyway, maybe something will turn up in these tests to explain his stomach, and maybe it won’t. We have to wait until mid-August to see a pediatric gastroenterologist, believe it or not. But we got a new Zantac prescription, so at least we can make him feel better while we wait to see if they can diagnose him.

I had promised him that if he did a good job at the upper GI, we could go to Safeway and get him a doughnut and a soda. As he’s in the middle of the test, I hear his little voice from the machine, “Mommy, remember, after this I get a doughnut, soda, and candy.” I replied, “I don’t remember saying anything about candy!” The doctor and the tech laughed and the doctor said, “He’s kind of running the show right now, mom.”

Later the tech told me to make sure Aidan got a lot to drink today, “…and things without caffeine.” Feeling like Champion White Trash Mom, I replied, “So, no Mountain Dew, then?” Aidan piped up, “No, I want diet Coke.” And we left, to the sound of dueling banjos in the distance.