Category: Ryan

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Cole Household Mothering Pregnancy & Birth Ryan

I’m a Pigsty Expert

I’ve been working with Ryan and Cole for a few weeks now, on cleaning up their playroom, and organizing everything. It is amazing at times how two boys can be so messy.  We started with the bookcase.  I took out every single book- all 500 of them (so it seems) and kept the ones that are age appropriate, and packed up the baby ones. 

Then we started in on the cars, trucks, trains, and anything else with four wheels.  Then I started finding  tire treads everywhere.  Evidently, Cole likes to take the tread off, and then throw all of them behind larger objects in the playroom. 

Every toy has many other little parts, and trying to find all the parts to the toys to put them away is taking so long.  Cole has been practicing cutting with scissors.  There are always scraps of paper everywhere that makes the floor look like Times Square after New Year’s.  Add to that, Ryan now uses the playroom as his “classroom” to play school.  Everytime I pick up a marker, or put a book away, he tells me he needs that- those are his teaching materials.   He really does have a class too.  He’s recruited the neighborhood children, and after they are all home from real school, they are now assembling in our playroom to play school.

The room is a wreck, and on Friday I finally had some more time to work with the boys and I was determined we were finally going to get the playroom clean and organized.  All was going well until five minutes into it, when I discovered “spit balls” all over the place.  When I asked what they were, Ryan said that was his science experiment- he was making paper.  

I told the boys that there was to be no more water in the playroom.  Then I uttered those five words- those five words I heard growing up: “This room is a pigsty!”  The boys looked at me. The rest of the interaction went like this:

COLE: Mommy, what is a pigsty?

ME: A pigsty is where pigs live, and it is dirty, messy, and gross.  Just like this room.

COLE: But we aren’t pigs- we are boys.

ME: But your room looks like where pigs live.

RYAN: Pigs live on the farm, in mud. There’s no mud in here. 

ME: Yes, but their sty is where they live on the farm, and there probably is mud in here- we just haven’t found it yet.

RYAN: When did you see a pigsty? 

ME: I see a pigsty every time I walk in this room.  

RYAN: Pigs like to be dirty.

COLE: Yea, pigs like to be dirty, and we like our playroom.

ME: Well I don’t, and we aren’t going to keep this room like a pigsty anymore.  We are going to clean it up, until we are done.

RYAN and COLE (silence and then): OINK, OINK!

On Saturday we worked all day, and we made a lot of progress.  After the second trash bag was filled, I realized I am a full-fledged pigsty expert. And I remembered this: (watch at the 3 minute mark to 4 minutes)

Clearly, I’m following the universally-accepted-standard-mother sayings.  When we start in on the pigsty room again, I”ll just have to step it up a notch and tell the boys, “if you think this room is going to stay a pigsty, you have another thing coming.” 

I am sure the response will be the same: oinks, and they will probably ask what is the other thing coming is.  🙂  

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Mothering Parenting Pregnancy & Birth Ryan

Six on the Sixth

This morning, my baby boy (who isn’t a baby any more) turns six!  It seems every year I am amazed at how fast the time has gone by.  I look back at Ryan’s baby pictures, and can’t quite comprehend where that baby went.  It also seems his baby days were over in an instant.  When I think back to those first few months with a newborn, it didn’t seem possible that really, in a blink of an eye, he would ever be six. 

One of my most cherished memories of Ryan was on the day we came home from the hospital.  I had been in the hospital for five days because I had some complications from a C-section.  The hospital was a hustle and bustle, and there was always someone coming and going, or a nurse in the room checking either on Ryan or myself.  I had so much pain, bonding with Ryan had been hard- I was trying to learn how to take care of him, and manage my pain.   

We came home in the afternoon, and Ryan’s dad left to get some food.  For the first time, it was Ryan and I at home, by ourselves.  I was sitting in a glider, just having finished nursing him, and he was asleep in that happy little milk coma, newborns fall into.  He had a little smile on his face while he was sleeping and his head fit in the palm my hand.  His body was not longer than my arm up to my elbow.  I remember just sitting there and looking at him, and I fell in love with him in that moment.  I had tears running down my face because of the feelings I felt for him- all 7 pounds of him!

So to Ryan, six years later-I love you more than I could ever even imagined that afternoon.  You are simply amazing, and I learn so much from you every day.  At six, you love routine and order.  You love playing school (you are the teacher of course) and you like playing pharmacy (you are the pharmacist- of course).  I am very happy that you love school and learning so much.  You are becoming quite the reader, and enjoy reading to us.  

You are discovering sports and have played soccer and basketball during the last year.  You keep asking when you get to play baseball, and you can throw a baseball really well.  If I had to make a prediction, I think baseball is going to be your sport. 

Your favorite food is a tie between ice cream and macaroni and cheese, but you are trying more and more foods.  You also like spaghetti, ham, and chicken.   Your favorite breakfast is Cinnamon Life and waffles.  You would drink a gallon of milk a day if you could.

You ask a lot of questions now too!  The other day you were asking so many about football, for so long, I asked you if you could stop asking questions for a few minutes, and you asked “Why, questions are good.” 

Even at six, the love and patience you show your younger brother, Cole, is touching.  You think about him, and are concerned with his well being.  As we were taking down the Christmas tree, Cole was crying because he was sad Christmas was over.  You went up to him, and put your arm around his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry buddy- I know it is sad, but Christmas will be here next year, and Santa will bring us new presents.” 

With examples like this, I often think you are much older than you are- sometimes you seem like a little old man trapped in a much younger body.  That first afternoon at home with you, I loved you because you were my baby.  I had no idea who you were, what your personality was like, or who you would become.  Six years has gone by so fast Ryan, but every day, a little bit more of your personality gets reveled.  It is a joy to watch this, and I am so lucky and fortunate I am your mom.  

For the next six years, I plan to make sure you do your “job.”  You like to know what people’s jobs are, and sometimes you become too concerned with adult issues.  So your job is to be a little boy, to play, to have fun, to do well at school, and most importantly- eat ice cream.

Happy Sixth Birthday, Ryan.  I love you!!

1/16/04- 10 days old

October, 2009- Kindergarten picture

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Activities Cole Family & Friends Holidays Parenting Ryan

Christmas and Divorce

I have chosen up to this point not to write about any aspects of my divorce.  I have had many reasons for choosing not to write about this subject.  Many of those reasons are still in place, and one of these reasons was, I didn’t see what good or what positive aspects could come from blogging about a divorce. 

This past Christmas was the first Christmas where Ryan and Cole’s time was divided between their father and I.  It was also the last holiday, since we have been apart, that we had to face, and also it is the “biggest.”  Christmas is all the holidays rolled into one, and then some- especially for children.  My boys start asking in July when Christmas is coming.  As a parent, there is nothing quite like seeing your children’s face’s light up with excitement on Christmas morning when they see the tree and the presents under it.  It is the epitome of childhood.

And the fact of being divorced is, one parent isn’t going to experience that every year.  Some divorced parents switch off years,  and some divide the time.  We decided to try to keep things as they had been in the past this year, so the boys spent Christmas Eve with me, and my family.   Ryan and Cole got to visit with my mom, who lives out of state, and their great-grandpa, who moved to Colorado this year.  Their two teen-aged cousins wrestled and rough-housed with them, which they loved and they helped them make a gingerbread house.  Of course there were a lot of presents, but for the first time, I noticed the boys were more interested in playing with people than playing with the gifts all night.   Their dad came and got them later at night on Christmas Eve, and then the boys spent Christmas with him and his family. 

After the boys had left my aunt’s house on Christmas Eve, I cried.  I haven’t cried over any holiday, but there was something very isolating, and hollow not having my children with me for this holiday.  My tears didn’t last long, because I knew the boys were going to have fun, and they were fine.  They were excited about Santa coming in the morning.  It obviously helped that I was around my immediate family too. 

On Christmas Day, I missed the boys terribly.  I imagined they were having fun, and that is what mattered.  That evening the boys called me and my heart melted when Ryan excitedly told me on the phone, “Mom, I had the best day!”  He explained what he had done, and the gifts he had received.  A part of me was sad, because I had not been a part of his day, but he was happy.  He wasn’t sad, asking where I had been, or why we couldn’t be together, or any of those type of things.  I talked to Cole, and he was happy and excited too. 

The good I think can come from sharing this experience is, despite the difficulties divorce brings, especially with children, all that mattered on Christmas was that Ryan and Cole were happy, and had the best Christmas ever.  Perhaps that says something about our Christmases past, but I think it says more about all the members of the families involved- on both sides.  All the grandparents, all the aunts, all the uncles, and all of the cousins. 

When my children are grown, I don’t want them to look back at the holidays and remember “that was my year with Mom, or that was my year with Dad.”  I want them to remember the joy, the happiness, the excitement, and the love they received from and felt for their families.  I know that was accomplished throughout the last year, and especially this Christmas Eve and Christmas. 

Thank you to all members of both Ryan and Cole’s family for this.  It could have been a very hard holiday for them, but it wasn’t.  It was magical and loving for them- just as it should be.

Categories
Cole Mothering Parenting Ryan School

Childhood Innocence

My kids are pretty good about not begging, or whining for things.  But they are kids, and they have their methods of operations.

Ryan is very persistent when he has his eye on something and will mention it several times- he never forgets anything.  He seems to just wear me down over time.  He doesn’t whine, but just never drops the subject. 

Cole looks at me with his big, blue, eyes and smiles at me, and it gets me every time. Good thing he isn’t at an age where he is asking for more than goldfish crackers for his snack right now.

A few days ago Ryan mentioned in passing that his school was having a book fair, and there was a pointer he really liked.  He said we could go on Thursday.  It didn’t really register at the time, so I told him we’d talk about it on Thursday.

Today when he came home from school he told me that we were going to the book fair tonight- it was the last night, they were open until eight, and he needed the pointer for his “classroom.” He added, “Please Mom,” which he never does. 

Ryan loves playing school.  On the days he doesn’t have school, he has played school for eight hours straight.  He has lesson plans, reading, music classes, hall passes- everything.  So when he said this pointer was for his class, I asked him to tell me about it.  He said it was a pointer so he could read and point to the words in his books and so he could teach the kids in his class.  I told him I’d think about it.

When it was time for dinner, Ryan said we had to hurry up to eat so we could get to the book fair before eight.   I was torn.  I don’t want to give into my kids every time they want something.  On the other hand, it is so innocent.  He wasn’t asking for an $80 video game- he wanted something to enhance his school play.  While I was debating the pros and cons, he started crying and said if he didn’t get the pointer, he was never going teach again!  So dramatic!

I explained to him that we don’t throw fits when we don’t get what we want.  I told him if he stopped that behavior, I would keep thinking about it, and let him know after dinner.  Of course he stopped crying right away, and I told him after dinner we would go check out the book fair. 

When we walked into the library, his eyes lit up and he said, “Come here Mom, and I’ll show the pointers.”  I guess I was expecting a little laser pointer, or something with a little light on the end of it, and it took everything I had not to start laughing when I saw what my son had his heart set on:

001 (2)

I told him and Cole they could each get one, and they both stood there for several minutes deciding which color pointer to get.  It was very cute and evidently, very important. 

I remember when I was Ryan’s age- that time in childhood when playing and make-believe is your biggest worry.  Those times go so fast- they are almost gone for Ryan.  I looked at how innocent and care-free both my boys are right now, and know it won’t always be this way for them.  Childhood is gone in a blink of an eye.   One day, that will be here sooner than I think, we will have much bigger issues to face than pointers at the book fair.  

Ryan and Cole may never remember the pointers, but I will.  For now those pointers delay the inevitable a bit, and help keep my children, children just a little longer.

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Cancer Cole Family & Friends Health Me Ryan

Good-Bye to Cancer

Two weeks ago, I had a follow up appointment with the surgeon who performed my thyroidectomy and neck dissection, Dr. S.  He said the incision site on the side of my neck was still swollen some, and is healing.  That side of my neck is pretty numb- I get a “pins and needles” sensation when I touch it, but it doesn’t bother me.  Dr. S. said the entire incision is healing perfectly, and just as it should.  He examined my neck and throat area and said everything felt just like it should- translation: no new enlarged lymph nodes or nodules.

I informed him I had not had my thyroglobulin level tested since I completed radioactive iodine (RAI) therapy in August.  Dr. S. ordered the blood work and I left with the perscription in my hand for the test.  I was very happy everything seemed to be on track, but I knew the results of thyroglobulin test would be the true indicator if I was cancer free.

The type of thyroid cancer I had, papillary, produces elevated levels of thyroglobulin.  Before my surgery, Dr. S. told me a person with no cancer thyroglobulin’s level would be zero.  Mine before surgery, was 38!  Dr. S., said that was very high, and he had never seen a person my age with that high of a thyroglobulin level.  Before my RAI treatment in August, the endocrinologist measured my thyroglobulin level, and they were amazed to see it was down to 4!  They said it was very rare- almost impossible to get the thyroglobulin level that low, with just surgery.  They said a reading around 13-20 is more common.  This confirmed Dr. S., did an outstanding job on my surgery. 

I had no reason to feel anything but optimistic, assuming the RAI would have killed off any remaining cancer cells. Still, I couldn’t help but worry a little bit.  All those thoughts crept into my mind…all the what-if’s?  It didn’t help that I had to wait a week for the results- for some reason the lab was really slow in getting the bloodwork back. 

But last Thursday, on my 37th birthday, Dr. S’s office called with the results.  My thyroglobulin level was undetectable and surpressed.  The levels were perfect, and I am officially cancer free! 

I was beyond thrilled and happy!  As it sunk in, I got very emotional.  It had been six months from my first diagnosis to this news, but it has seemed at times, the longest journey of my life, and like I would never reach this point, or if I did reach it, I would never be quite the same again.  I thought back to when Dr. S. called me on a Saturday in April to tell me he was sorry, but the biopsy showed I had thyroid cancer, and how the second I hung up with him I cried, and didn’t stop for hours. 

That seemed like a lifetime ago.  Everything I have experienced- the tests, the cancer diagnosis, the uncertainty, the fear, finding out the cancer had spread,  the surgery, the time I lost with my children, the incision, the numbness in my neck, the medical mistakes that were made, the diet, the severe hypothyroidism, the medication, the days I could barely function- all of those things, brought me full circle and I am healthy again. 

I couldn’t wait to share the happy news with my family and friends- all those people who have been there for me through all of this.  And most of all, I couldn’t wait to tell the boys.  Ryan smiled and hugged me when I told him- he understands all of it- probably even more than I care to admit.  Cole does too, but he asked if that meant the doctor didn’t have to cut my neck open again. 🙂

It has occurred to me sometime in the past few days, that this is the end.  My cancer journey is over.  There will still be routine check-up’s to monitor my levels, but thankfully papillary cancer has a very high cure rate, and reoccurrence is very rare.  

I have shared my experience with thyroid cancer in part, because it was very hard for me to find real-life information on it when I was researching it.  Most of the medical information describes it as no big deal, more or less.  While that is true from a medical standpoint, this experience has been anything but “no big deal.”  I have categorized every time I have written about my cancer, under the Cancer topic (35 posts in all), and I hope what I have experienced, will help others in their research. 

I am amazed and touched by the e-mails I receive daily from other thyroid cancer patients and survivors- in every stage.   I’m shocked that so many people tell me they have learned more about thyroid cancer from my blog than from their doctors. So many of the patients are afraid- just like I was.  I hope the cancer posts will continue to help and inform.  I will try to continue to answer as many of the personal e-mails that I can.  I am brainstorming some ways I can offer more assistance personally, and locally to thyroid cancer patients. 

This is where my experience ends.  It has been a journey that has been one of the hardest for me, but also one that has taught me so much about myself and others, and one that will never leave me.   But for now, it is time for me to say good-bye to my cancer.