Rainy Days, Hot Chocolate and Adventures With Oil Paint
The first thing I did this morning is the exact same thing I do every morning. I checked my Twitter and my Facebook just in case someone posted something interesting while I was sleeping. (Don't want to be out of the loop for even one second... God forbid)
It just so happens, my blog-friend Catherine Connors, has reposted something about her nephew, who is currently dying of a certain kind of muscular dystrophy. http://herbadmother.com/tanner/
Now, I've been avoiding reading much about Tanner, it was enough to know that he's a little boy, he's dying and Catherine, AKA Her Bad Mother, is doing something called Tutus For Tanner. I left it at that. But this morning, at the post (or repost) of We Dont Need a Hero, I could no longer hold out.
As I held my son in my lap, I read the heartbreaking tale of how her nephew is slowly (or quickly) dying of a disease that in his short lifetime, there will be no cure for. That's why the title, We Don't Need a Hero... because the time for heroes and miracles have passed for this precious boy, whom in every photo I see of him, has the biggest smile you've ever seen.
I don't know if Catherine will read this post, giants don't come down from the beanstalk to muck around with dwarves, and she is bringing her self right now to have her television appearance RIGHT after her returning flight from visiting Tanner and her sister.. with NO SLEEP. And then, of course, everyone expects her to go right back to writing her blog. So I really don't expect she'll see this. But I thank her, I thank her so much for this morning I'm having right now.
Her requests were to help raise money, so this little boy could have his final wish of dying at home. If you couldn't donate money, (which I can't) she asked for donated time... well, she lives in Toronto, so that's out. If you couldn't donate time or money, she asked that you be grateful for your kids.
I hugged Tyler close to me, of course that made him wiggle to get down, but it set my mind for my day. I was so touched and of course I was crying. I'm just so glad I read this this morning.
Because then Kendyl got behind the chair again and into my box of stuff. It's a habit she loves to do that invariably pisses me off.
Well, she dug a bit deeper this morning, down where my paint is. For those of you who aren't artists, and familiar with paint... there's water-based and oil based paints, water-based washes off easily with soap and water, and oil-based needs paint thinner or turpentine (which I have none of, being how it's been years since I've used oil paints)
Guess which tube she bit the end off?
I was only gone for a second. And I'm really glad I caught her when I did, it could have been much worse. Needless to say, we got a bath first thing this morning. I still have a green baby and now I have a green chair and a green bathtub. I'm waiting for my brother to show up with the paint thinner.
Normally, this incident would be the catalyst for the beginning of a terrible day, filled with yelling and tantrums. (From all of us) But, remember, I had a Tutus for Tanner morning. I dealt with the problem the best I could with soap and water and we moved on.
About a half an hour later, it started to rain... like really pour. We live in Palm Springs, so this happens, maybe twice a year... if we're having a wet year. The kids stood, transfixed at the window, still warm and pink from the bath.
I made my decision, we had to move fast, desert storms disappear quickly. I got the kids dressed up warm, (because you know, it's gotta be less than 80 degrees out there) and out we went.
We spent maybe 45 minutes out enjoying the rain and the puddles. When they started shivering, I coaxed them inside with promises of hot chocolate.
She drank from his sippy cup so he drank from her bottle, thats just how it happens. I let them, although it was funny to see my big 3 year old with a bottle.
I got to have this wonderful morning with two kids who woke up early, who are a little cranky and a lot impetuous. All because I was reminded by a little boy who is dying, and a caring aunt whose heart is breaking... to be grateful for every moment I have.
Because even the paint covered ones are a miracle.
Thanks Catherine... and thanks Tanner.