In April, 2010, when Andrew was 2 1/2, a tumor was discovered behind his eye. The tumor was removed, but it was found to be an aggressive cancer. He endured seven months of chemo and six weeks radiation. In December of 2010, the day after his last treatment, he was rushed to the ER with an almost fatal bacterial infection. He survived.

He is now seven-years-old!! I don't visit here much, because during the ordeal, this is where I dumped everything--my rage, my fear, my sadness, my ugly, my hope, my everything. But I want all of you who supported and prayed for us to hear his updates. You helped me survive, and I am deeply thankful. Every once in awhile, I will check in to let you know how he's doing. Please continue to pray that cancer will never return to his body. Thank you.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Mundane Monday

"Do you guys have your shoes on?" I yell up the stairs.

"Why do I keep hearing screaming? Aaron, are you bugging Sammy?  PLEASE STOP IT."

I smear some cream cheese on two bagels, bag them up and wash two apples.  I find a stack of Thin Mints and pry away two groups of two and wrap them in left-over Christmas saran wrap. As I search the pantry for two juice boxes, I hear it again: Thump. Thump. Scream.  A blood curdling, almost predictable, I-am-being-tortured scream.  I barely flinch.

"Are you guys dressed yet?  C'mon! We're gonna be late!"  I race up the stairs, two steps at at time and find both of them putting on their shirts, still without shoes and socks.

"Aaon's being mean to me!"

 "C'MON! Let's get going! Get your shoes on! C'MON!

"I can't find my shoes!  I don't have any socks! I don't have any underwear! I don't have any..."

Finally, everything is found.  They may be wearing yesterday's jeans fished out of the laundry, or their brother's underwear, but they are dressed.  Climbing into the car, they both trip over Sammy's favorite shoes (the ones he spent the morning searching for) and settle down into their car seats.

"Everyone have their seatbelts on?  Yes? Good."

I back out of the driveway, check the car clock, and sigh.  It will be a miracle if we make make it on time.  Turning my focus to the road, I start the softly mumbled but urgent tirade of frustrated comments at the oblivious drivers in front of me.  "Move it, will ya? Could ya go any slower? Geez!"

BAM from the backseat.

Blood curdling scream.

"He hit me with his lightsaber!"

"But he hit me with his sword!."

I lean back, careful not to take my eyes off the road, and hold my breath, hoping they will comply without too much persuading. I extend one arm into the back seat, palm up.

"Give me the weapons. NOW."

With slight hesitation, and perhaps a little protest, they hand 'em over.

More shrieks.

More screams.

 "What now!?" I yell over my purposely loud radio.

 "He is singing THAT song.  Over and over and over again!  Ahhhh!!! make him stop!

And, he is.

"Sammy is a poopoo Sammy is a poopoo Sammy is a poopoo"...and so the song continues. 

I try a calm, pleading approach:  "Please stop singing that song.  You are driving us bonkers."

"Sammy is a poopoo..."

(Do you find it hard to effectively discipline from the front seat? I DO!)

"Just ignore him, Sammy."

"I don't know how to do that!!' he screeches.

I breathe a small sigh of relief as we pull into the school parking lot. Right. on. time... That is, IF the cars in front of me will just hurry!  I make an almost U-turn and maneuver my way onto the curb.   A loud bell is blaring.

"Get out! Get out!" I urge, desperately.  Aaron climbs over the back seat and pushes his way through his brothers' legs. As the door opens and he prepares to exit, I touch his arm and smile.  "Have a great day! I love you.  Bye, Sweetie." He hops out and runs to class. whew.

I pull forward (thump, thump) over the curb and keep driving.  Next stop, preschool.

As we arrive in the parking lot, I am grateful for the ten minutes we have before school starts.  Ahhhh...time for a little mascara (without it, my eyelashes are blonde, and invisible) and a deep, cleansing breath.  

"Get me out of my seatbelt Mommy! Get me out!" Andrew cries as he wiggles in vain to escape his straps.

I reach back with one arm and release him.  Soon, both boys are doing somersaults over the seats waiting for me to finish up. "C'mon Mom!! My friends are out there!!!"

I finish up with the mascara, open the door, and release the captives.  They sprint for the scooters and I sit down at a child-size picnic bench by the classroom door. When the teachers are ready, I sign Sammy in, drop off his lunch, and kiss him goodbye.

Another morning drop-off complete!

Andrew and I head for home.

I was deprived of this routine for a while.  And I missed it.

I am so thankful that I get to participate in this daily chaos.

I am thankful for:

#7    The mundane
#8    Routine
#9    Chaos
#10  Screaming children
#11  Lost shoes
#12  Teasing brothers
#13   Mascara
#14   Lightsabers and plastic swords
#15   Scooters
#16   Flexible teachers who give grace for well-deserved tardies.


  1. I am grateful for my crazy life too, and the opporunity to raise my beautiful daughts. Thanks for the reminder!

  2. Disciplining while driving is difficult, if not impossible. And they know it! Thanks for the reminder that even the mundane (and mildly frustrating) is such a gift. I could do well to remember that today!

  3. hahah! Sometimes i am thankfull for the fact that i'm not a mommy.... yet....

    Thanks for sharing!

  4. This all sounds so familiar to me and yet I too am grateful for every minute.

  5. Sounds familiar! We have the mad rush to elementary and middle school every morning. But I really miss the preschool drop off. Driving in the car alone with my youngest provided the opportunity to have some really great talks.

  6. Um, hello? Maybe I should have read this first before I asked you about One Thousand Gifts in your last post. :)
    When my kids are acting up in the car, I reach a point when I say, "Don't make me come back there." It cracks me up just to say that and then my kids start laughing too (mostly because they think they're mom's a goof, but they seem to forget about what they were arguing about too...)
    I'm so glad you're feeling back to "normal" again!


Your thoughts...