Hope4Peyton

Peyton laid down a normal sleepy 4 year old.

She came out from her nap smelling of A&D ointment.  That’s never a good sign. She started crying about 5 steps into the living room and couldn’t quit.

Does your booty hurt? Yes

Do you need to go poo? NO!

Do you have a rash?  NO!

Why does it hurt?  Sweet heaven on a biscuit, lady, I don’t know, but I wish I knew better curse words so I could spew them at you to show exactly how BAD my butt hurts right now. So stop asking questions and fix it!!!!!!!

So, ok, that wasn’t actually the way the last part went, but it is close enough for me to be instantly concerned.  She wasn’t constipated, because after her last bout with THAT I’ve taken great care to take mental note of the regularity in which she befouls the bathroom.  She hadn’t been complaining about a rash because that comes on pretty gradually and it’s never an instant pain.  Do 4 year olds get hemorrhoids?

Oh. Did she stick something up there?

I’ve had to have her blow Nerds candy out of her nose. The doctor once dug a piece of popped popcorn out of her ear…after a week of it being there…because that’s how THIS mom rolls.

** TMI Alert **

It’s that lovely time of the month in my cycle and there have been certain accoutrements that go along with that in the bathroom.  My next thought is that she has somehow tried to infiltrate herself with one of those, and perhaps it isn’t really her butt that hurts.  Oh this is bad. So bad. Bad like I’ve never contemplated before. This a great big bad-glazed BAD with a creamy bad filling.

“Let’s go to the bathroom so I can see IT and see if we can fix it.” Brave talk from a mom who’s broken out into a full body sweat.  Forget about the “don’t let them see you sweat” thing…it should be “don’t let them see you Google ‘things that may be stuck in my butt’”!!!

Once she realizes that I’m going to try to FIX whatever is wrong, she throws herself on the floor and then realizes that such action HURTS MORE and starts screaming even louder.  *Note, just this very second as I am writing up this post, she came in to tell me “my throat hurts….from all that screaming.” As if I could forget it, my ears are still ringing!

So, I have to grab her around the waist and carry her writhing body into the bathroom.

We go through this dance of me trying to convince her to take off her undies, bend over and let me look at the offending area. We are both horrified.  Neither of us is happy with this option.  But she is still crying and her pain is very real.  So I have to force the issue.

Pulling her over my legs, I try to get her to the point that I can look.  She’s clenched up so tightly that I can’t see anything but little pink cheeks.  This isn’t helping.

“Peyton, you have to open up so I can see what’s going on down there!!!”  I have to yell this over her howling and immediately feel like the worst kind of prison inmate, the kind that uses phrases like “I told you to pick up the soap!!”

She relaxes the tiniest bit and I see something.  I can’t identify it, I only see a glimpse of it.  But there is definitely something stuck.  Please re-read paragraph 11 – entitled BAD.

She’s screaming.  I’m wondering if this is something that I should contact a medical professional about.  I grab a handful of wipes that are always stationed next to the toilet and go back to the prison-inmate-mama voice.

Much screaming continues and I finally get a few swipes at the offending area.  I look to see if there’s any blood or anything on the wipes…because the job of a mom is so wonderfully gratifying.  And there is.

“It feels better now, mama.”

What was it, you might ask? Or perhaps you wouldn’t ask because deep down you don’t want to know and are horrified that you’ve kept reading to this point.  You know I’m going to tell you anyway, so THIS is the moment you need to close the browser and walk away.

Still here?  Ok, then.

She had a splinter on her butt. Not IN her butt, but between the cheeks was a little quarter inch long piece of wood. Wedged in there.  Poking her in the most sensitive of places.  OUCH.

She’s all recovered now, besides the sore throat from all the screaming.  I gave her some chocolate.

I now have this mental playing of a conversation down the road….perhaps in the teen years, when strife seems inevitable….where she’s acting like a jerk and I get to use the line “I already pulled the stick out of your butt ONCE, so what’s your problem now?”

I can’t wait.

How can I give money to a charity that will offer awesome support to families with children battling cancer?

You were just asking yourself that?  That’s AWESOME because I totally have a way for you to do just that.

The charity is the Children’s Cancer Center and in honor of National Childhood Cancer Month in September they are encouraging businesses and offices to get in the spirit of giving.

What’s YOUR office doing to promote awareness of kids fighting cancer?  Nothing? PLEASE take this flyer in and see if you can change that.

**Oh, and by the way, up there? THAT’s Justin...could you not just eat him up? He has a cancer called Neuroblastoma, what would you give to keep HIM in your life?

I wish I could tell you we had a fun-packed weekend, but while it didn’t stink, it sure wasn’t anything to get excited about.

Do we look like 4 cancer moms? Well, these are 3 very special friends (from left, Annike, me, Nicole and Tracey) who’ve seen my through some rough days and our friendship is a blessing. (And disgustingly, half of me is hidden behind Nicole..but only half of me would fit *sigh*)

We went to a beach party hosted by the Children’s Cancer Center on Thursday night and as we were getting ready to load up into the car and head home, Peyton started to complain that she didn’t feel good. Her tummy hurt, her head hurt, her legs hurt.  As she got her heavy duty dose of chemo and started her steroids on Wednesday, that wasn’t a complete surprise.  What did surprise me was that when I picked her up to put her in the carseat, she felt warm.

I’m sure normal moms don’t keep thermometers in their purse, but just as I always have my keys (*snort!), some chapstick and my cell phone, I also always carry a thermometer, EMLA (numbing cream for her port) and some Press ‘n Seal (which stands in for tape, because it sticks to the skin but comes off easily, we LUVs us some Press ‘n Seal).

I got out my handy dandy thermometer and she was running a low-grade temp, just high 99’s.  As we have to head to the hospital anytime she spikes over 101, I was concerned and watched her carefully over the night.  I was supposed to drive over to Daytona to help my mom take care of my dad who is recovering from hip surgery.  As each day of the weekend went by with the same low-grade fever, I had to finally tell them that I couldn’t come.  I was disappointed that I couldn’t be there to help out my parents, but I have to always take the risk of taking Peyton anywhere, especially if I know she’s already at risk for a full blown fever.  Can I tell you how much that sucks?

So, the rest of the weekend has been just watching her and monitoring her. She’s felt pretty cruddy. Nothing outright wrong, but just not herself. She’s been lethargic and her color has been off, her sweet little eyes just show the wear and tear of the chemo on her system.  She hasn’t even been all that hungry this month, which is unusual because last month she was like a bear storing up for hibernation.

Sunday night we went to see Wall-E….a post for another time there…and she crawled up into my lap and had trouble staying awake.  She just wanted to snuggle and when I’d move my arm from around her, she’d grab it and pull it back to hold her. By the end of the movie my arm was cramped and my leg was asleep, but if that’s what she needs to get through the movie, no problem.

I just ask for prayers for Peyton as her body works to recoup this week. Her body is aching and I can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she doesn’t want me to give her anything for pain so she just fights through it.  She needs good rest and time to get back up to her normal blurring speed.

Please keep the prayers going for Peyton and her many friends battling this miserable monster of a disease.

This is also our last week before school starts on the 18th, as it is for many families. So let’s make sure to keep all the kids, the parents and teachers in our prayers as well.

**more pictures of the beach fun available by clicking on Flickr.

My kids like to watch TV. They get that from their dad and me. We have our Tivo set up to religiously catch our favorite shows like My Name is Earl and Battlestar Galactica, Lost and the Closer.  We like TV. We know we watch too much of it.  We know there are better, more productive ways to use our time, but we enjoy it and it’s cheap and it’s in our house and that’s all I have to say about that.

Peter and I know that our chances of being stranded on a mythical island are slim to none, but, if we were, we probably would not be toting pistols and trotting through the forest bravely….we’d still be blubbering in the wreckage, hoarding our Tic Tacs.  We understand that karma is good, crazy hair extensions and too much spandex is bad.  We are able to differentiate between what is appropriate and what is not.

You can stop laughing now….it’s ok, I’ll wait for you to finish.

My kids, however, are another story. I have words for shows like Drake and Josh, iCarly and The Suite Life of Zack and Cody.  I have words that involve QUIT and BEING and DOUCHEBAGS!

If my kids talked to each other the way these characters talk to their siblings, the punishment would be severe . If they dared speak to their father and me in those tones of insolence and you’re-too-incompetent-to-be-the-boss-of-me (which we may be, but that’s not the point!), heads would ROLL!  If they got into the trouble these kids do for lack of common sense and basic courtesy I think that military school would play heavily in their future.  I can only imagine my reaction if they brought home such impudent friends and overly hormonal dates (dates that Peter swears they won’t actually have until their 30’s), but I’m sure it would resemble something in the realm of a volcanic explosion.

Yet, the portrayed “adults” are complete boobs! The parents just smile and shrug when spoken to like the hired help, parents are bypassed all together for older siblings who are the mental equivalents of Rain Man, teachers are tyrannical and outright cruel. THIS is not helping either.

Turn it off, you might say. And I probably should.  But, I use them as examples of what NOT to do.  It’s not often you get perfect examples of the behavior that makes your parental skin crawl.  My kids are so tired of hearing me say, “…and if you EVER…!”  They even come to me and talk about what the characters did that was so wrong.  We discuss if we’d like for people to treat US that way.  For all that these shows are funny, I get the opportunity to show my kids what not to do, with walking, talking examples of what’s going to get them in the most trouble.

I can’t buffer my kids from all the outside influences that are going to try to sway them to the dark side. As much as I would love to stick them in the bubble and keep their childhood sweetness and innocence forever, I know that’s not going to happen. The best I can do is try to fill their little heads with the knowledge that will help them make the right decisions when faced with the quandaries of life.

While my first request would be that the producers of these shows stop to consider the generation of complete derfwads they’re helping to groom, I also accept that my role as the parent is to take what they see and hear (because trust me, they’re getting just as much of it from their classmates and friends) and teach them how to use it to their advantage.

And should that fail to work, I will allow Peter’s idea of all ESPN. All. The. Time.

Oh, I hope this works!

However, now we have to hope that the winning photo REALLY IS the winning photo!

After much debate and a huge helping hand from all of you, a picture was picked to submit for the $500 Summer Fun Photo Contest at 5 Minutes for Mom.  It was a hard choice between the one of Rachael’s goofy smile and Peyton in the sand.  Because several of you mentioned the beach photo that I had color-adjusted to be black and white with pink highlights, I am going to use that photo as my submission.

Even if it doesn’t win, it will always hold a soft spot in my heart for her little bald head shining on that day and how I was so proud that she never let cancer get in the way of having a good time.

So, here is folks, my submission photo.

Thanks so much for helping me choose!