This was not a conversation I wanted at 4:30 on a Monday morning. Honestly I didn’t want to be awake at 4:30 in the morning. I was scheduled to start my day an hour later.But with seven children,one who is severely medically fragile things very rarely go as planned. Actually, lately, nothing has been going as planned. But those issues are other blog posts. Back to Nadav and the dinos
Nadav is dino Crazy!He has dozens of plastic ones, books about them and makes them out of origami. (He’s also an origami fanatic). When he goes to the hospital, they put dinos on everything they can put a sticker on. He even has a giant stuffed dinosaur that’s nearly as big as he is that he drags…well just about everywhere. And I can’t blame him. I’f I’d had the start in life that he got, I’d be lugging a stuffed dino too. Lately he’s been having more and more issues with treatment reactions.
So at 4 am he started projectile vomiting. He was seriously upset about it. Not because he felt horrible,but because he woke me up. How many kids who are that sick worry about waking up their parents? I got him cleaned up and comforted and ready to try sleeping again. The whole time he just kept signing “I’m sorry.” It was heart breaking really. Right when I put him to bed, he hit me with his real issue. “Are there dinosaurs in heaven?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. “Do you want them?” was the best that I could do at the time. I was sort of in shock by the question. Talking about death with a six year old wasn’t ever something I’d prepared for. We have never actually talked about death and dying. Or that its a very real probability in his near future because of his combination of illnesses.But Nadav was totally sure what he wanted. “there are.”
I hope that he’s right. I hope that whenever he gets to heaven, at least for a while, there will be dinosaurs.
- hang chains and projects the kids made = check
- gather gifts from angel trees and make packages for kids that arrived after deadlines=Check
- gather coats and blankets for donation drive-check
Fulfilling the wishes of 192 homeless families=Check
let the holidays begin!
Whoohoo! I just found a broom closet! Yay! I wasn’t actually looking for a broom closet. I was on my way back from the bathroom and couldn’t find my room.Can I admit that I can get lost in the hallway a lot? I do. last week I found the shower the same way I found the broom closet.i got lost in space and took a wrong turn. Some day, I may figure out how to navigate, but I doubt it. We’ve been here three months and I get lost every time I go out the front door.
I really do get lost in space.Everything blurs together and tilts up. I may wander around outside my own front door for hours if Ry or one of the kids doesn’t catch me. To be fair, our room, 403B, is labeled as the kitchen and the shower is labeled “Don’t eat the paste.” So you you can’t blame me for getting confuzzalated.
And yes, Ry teased me about “coming out of the closet. “
Because of my head injury I sometimes have an awful time with words. Sometimes I am reading English, but it might as well be classical Greek. Sometimes its the wrong word or a word that isn’t even close. My poor kids have learned that when I ask for something, for example a spoon, it is usually a good idea to grab several other things as well, in case I was using the wrong word and it wasn’t really a spoon that I wanted. Sometimes, I can’t even find any word, and come to a dead stop mid sentence. other times I will stutter, stumble, do a Porky Pig impersonation or start a sentence right in the middle, because that is the part I remember. I have written some really interesting “free Election” reflection papers, and once wrote an Aardvark plan instead of an action plan. It changed my Curriculum assingment to something so strange that I can’t even remember what it was. I only remember that my instructor pointed out that computers have spell checks. Actually, that doesn’t always help. If I spell the wrong word correctly, it won’t help me.
Here are some of my stranger Aphasic moments.
“That’s a cute Zebra, Davi.” “Mama, it a tiger. and I’m Isaac.”
Discussing our families on the first day of class at city college. (I think I really confuzzled that particular teacher for the entire semester.) “I have 6 spoons” I meant kids. Teacher, “huh” Me, “ummm you know, the like,the,uh things people have in their families.” Teacher “You mean children? ” Me: “Yeah”
On a call to my partner. “All 6 cars slept with me because of the storms.” Ry. “wasn’t it crowded, with 6 cars? where did the kids sleep?” =P
For some reason I seem to like the words spoon and Aardvark, but have a dreadful time with children, child, or kids. Interesting, since I work in with infants and toddlers!