Thursday, March 28, 2013
Evan at 45 months
Of the three kids, I worry most about how Evan's processing what's going on right now. Lauren is young and mostly obvlious. As long as I can hold her, she's fine, plus she's increasingly reliant on Matt and other caregivers, like Grandma this week, for her snuggles. I can talk to Tobin and answer his questions. But Evan's lost somewhere in between. When I cut my hair nearly a month ago, his reaction was, "Oh no, Mom, go look in a mirror! You have to fix your hair!" And then he teared up.
Evan warmed up to my initial hair cut, although he would tell me he didn't like my new hair from time to time. Yesterday, I got my hair cropped even shorter as it's started shedding rapidly lately. Before I left, I talked with him about it. I told him I was going to go get my hair cut shorter. He pointed out, "But you already did that." Then I tried to explain that I needed to cut it because soon it would be all gone and I would then wear all those pretty hats that arrived in the mail last week (made and sent by my dear friend Kari). I told him about the special medicine I was getting and showed him my port site, which he thinks is kind of neat. I explained how the doctors give me a special shot on that special "bubble" and it will make my hair go away but it will help me get better. Evan said, "Ohhh...can you pop that bubble?" I answered, "No that wouldn't be a good idea. It would hurt me." He replied "Oh, but your bubble looks like a race car ramp?!?" and showed me how he would drive a car over it. I took that as the perfect, happy place to end the conversation.
When I came home with the new, even shorter cut yesterday, Evan looked at me warily and declared, "I don't like it, Mom!" He kept his distance for about an hour. But later that night, I got plenty of snuggles and unsolicited hugs and kisses. So I think we're cool.
And as I understand it, that's the thing. Evan will take his cues from Matt and me. If we're okay, he'll be okay. I'm definitely sad and anxious about losing my hair but I try to put on a brave, happy face for him. I imagine he can sense my reservation plus it really is a dramatic phsyical change to watch his mama undergo. So I'm keeping him close and taking it one moment at a time.
Apart from my fretting, Evan is still living the fun life of an almost four year old. We've gotten into a routine of taking a walk and bike ride after his nap. He loves going on adventures with Mimi, Ashley, Grandma or whoever's in town helping us. He's very excited about going to Tobin's baseball practices and games. Matt's downloaded some fun counting and math games on his tablet and Evan enjoys playing those with Daddy before bedtime. Earlier this month, Evan got a spot through the public school lottery at Tobin's school's pre-K program! Yay! So we registered him and now he has plans to "go to Tobin's school when I am four!" In quieter times, Evan hovers around me, sometimes checking, "Are you okay, Mom?" I assure him I am, because, well, I am. One very special routine we've begun since my chemo started is we share an afternoon nap. He sleeps on his pallet on our bedroom floor and I sleep in my bed. I usually read on my Kindle while he plays in his bed a bit but eventually, I hear his light snoring, and that's my cue to try to catch a little snooze too. When he wakes up, if I'm still in bed, he'll climb up in there with me to snuggle. And we chat, usually about superheroes and riding bikes. Then he says, "It's time to get up now, Mom." I say, "It sure is. Let's go." And I follow him out of the bedroom into the rest of our day.
Posted by allison at 11:13 AM