Survive-iversary (a replay)

Last week, on June 29th, my brother celebrated his fifth survive-iversary. That day five years ago was the hardest day of my life and yet, I am committed to celebrating it every June.

I thought this year, I would go into that celebration quietly. And then I interviewed and wrote profiles on four people in treatment for or recovery from cancer. I got so invested in the emotion of their stories, I could barely write anything else last week. And then I read that WhyMommy at Toddler Planet would be giving away her registration to BlogHer because she will need to give her time, attention, energy and body to chemo. She asked to hear some survivor stories and I felt compelled to share my family's story of just getting through. It is a replay, published last year on another blog, but new here.

So here is to the spirit within and the forces much greater than us -- kindness, God, good people, love, hope, some little moment in the future, the inexplicable, prayer, determination -- that get us through somehow, that make all of us who've been at that tough point in the journey survive.

Read on for Survive-iversary, 2006.

Today is one of those days when tears are out of both sadness and joy. Today marks the day that four years ago, my brother survived a very serious motorcycle accident.

Four years ago today, we didn't know for sure if he would survive but we did know that the doctors, nurses, prayers and great hope were already at work so that Seth would see many more days.

At the time, we all operated minute by minute, painstaking hour by hour. It was heart-wrenching to think beyond those small circles of time. In the moment, we couldn't envision what the next procedure might hold, let alone four years down the line. And yet, by the grace of God, here we are. Here we all are. 

Survive-iversary flowers, 2005

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Wee bit of progress

To all you parents who told me to ride out the two-week period of potty hell with stickers and sweet treats in hand and to whom, in response I teared up, laughed nervously or said,"Oh hell naw" just to think about enduring fourteen freaking days of carrying a limp child to the bathroom, rubbing his back, pretending I didn't care but really caring a lot, calling my mother, drinking heavily once the evil PullUps were safely on (or at least thinking about it...seriously), questioning my judgment and sanity as a mother and a person who can teach smaller people basic life skills to succeed in the world and in social situations where not everyone is holding it or has a little puddle in their pants: I thank you. You were right.

Something clicked. God only knows what it was, but it did indeed click. I am pretty sure it wasn't me and my pleading, reasoning or silly songs about pee. It could have been Bruce's patience of a lion that kept him locked in the bathroom with the boy and a golf magazine. Whatever it was, thank you, Mother of All Toddler Triumphs.

It started out with one teensy little tinkle and a handful of M&Ms, cheers and even a potty dance. From there, things got bigger and better and happier and more confident. Yesterday, Lil E went potty about 8 or 10 times, having only one little accident. And get this, he told us several times he had to go. You can't even imagine what a good day it was for us.

This morning, I asked him if it felt good to wake up knowing he is so good at the potty. And he just nodded this exaggerated nod, eyebrows up, big brown eyes wide and lips pursed together in a little proud kiss.

He got it and he knew he got it. And I, mama with the M&Ms smeared on my chin from kissing him so much, was so proud of my little pottier. So (ahem) relieved just to see the depression and anger and general pissed-offedness simmer away  and see my  crazy little monkey  return, kicking his heels and shaking his  tiny  white booty and pumping his fists into the air.

"Mommy!  I'm so excited to do the potty dance!" and then he sang one of our silly songs back to me, giggling, "Pee pee in the potty! This is how I wee wee! Aren't you proud of me? "

I know it's not over but I am so glad we are sitting right where we are.

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Linkety Dinkety Doo: Yep, again.

Because it's the Wednesday after a big deadline that kept me up until 1:30 a.m., followed by some deadline decompressing while devouring Operating Instructions (oh how I adore the and clever Anne Lamott) until well after 2 in the morning. Because I think I will spend my forties imprisoned on a treadmill or impoverished from expensive cosmetic surgery to undo all the ass-flabulation happening while I spend my thirties in front of the computer. Because I seriously need a shower. And I'm lazy.

Dig in:
Sarah thinks I rock. Flash backward to the first boy-girl party in seventh grade Deborah Ballis invited me to. My aunt bought me a new pair of parachute pants and lent me her rhinestone bracelet for the occasion. This feels that good.

Kimberly thinks this might help inspire Lil E to pee in the potty. I think it might inspire my husband to giggle while he considers doing things I have no interest in discussing further. It gave me a good laugh in the midst of much frustration, so I'm throwing caution to the wind and ordering three. Maybe as shower gifts. Nothing says Congratulations and welcome to the world of parenting! like a place to put your boy business, or at least pretend to.

Shaq thinks the chil'rens need help getting healthy. Did you watch? I admit it -- I cheered, I shooshed, I cried, I posted about it here.  

Yes yes yes, I'm going. But like I said, I'm lazy. I swear I'm registering tomorrow. And then I'm getting even snappier business cards than the ones I have now. And then I'm going shoe-shopping. Maybe not in that order.

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