|Building Planes for OT|
Ben started coming down with something last night, so I took him in to the pediatrician for a tune up this morning and was told he's coming down with something. It looks like it wants to be pneumonia, so hopefully we can trick it into moving on.
I told Ben to hook himself up for a vest/breathing treatment.
Ben: I don't want to.
Mom: And I don't want you to catch pneumonia.
Ben: I think we've learned by now that it's not so much me that catches pneumonia, as it catches me.
Sad, but true.
MDA's loan closet came through with a great new wheelchair for Ben. It's made of composite so it's much lighter than the solid metal we had before, and it breaks apart and folds up into more manageable bits. It fits him so much better and we're very grateful. They almost brought us a power chair by mistake and the opportunity caused me to think about the possibility for the first time. I'd ruled it out because we don't, as yet, have a way to transport a power chair and it seems like more than he needs since he is ambulatory, for the most part. Propelling his own standard wheelchair isn't really an option since his arms are just as weak as his legs. A power chair would provide an opportunity for Ben to get around on his own locally, as in "walking" to school and friend's houses and would give him much more independence. Something to think about when my brain can spare the space.
|New Chair. He's actually very happy with the chair, just not feeling well, here.|
Gigi was walking along the arm of the couch so I told her to get down.
Gigi: But I'm doing my training!
Mom: What training?
Gigi: For my exercise!
Mom: You'll have to train on the floor.
Gigi: Please, Mommy! Please? I'll give you all my money in my whole piggy bank! Please? I'll never eat cookies ever again. For my whole life!
Mom: Sorry, chickadee. On the floor.
Gigi: You mean you aren't my mommy any more?
I swallowed my fear and let Alex momentarily out of my sight by sending him to a modified version of Cub Scout Camp. He didn't spend the nights and he was there only short stints when one of us couldn't be nearby. He was still getting regular treatments from his allergic reaction and I wasn't convinced it wouldn't creep back once meds were stopped. Do other average 21st century Midwestern families expend this much mental energy trying to keep their kids out of hospitals?
|Pick up time: With Epinephrine strapped to his chest|
We were hanging out as a family telling jokes and one fell a little flat.
Mom: I think there was something missing from that one.
Ben: Yeah, humor.
Dad: What kind of fish is afraid of dogs?
Ben: What kind of fish is afraid of cats?
Ben: All of them.
I was having a frustrating time at the hospital and had all three kids along with many hours of waiting. We whittled some of the time in the cafeteria. I very rarely allow chocolate milk, but it was that kind of a day and it just felt good to surprise them with the treat when they didn't even ask. The kids were reading aloud from the carton that said, "Describe a great day." Gigi lifted her carton and proclaimed, "This day because Mommy said yes to chocolate!"
It's the little things. Joy is having little ones that can see and know just when to point them out.
|Our sunny spot moved|