Today Jacob woke up and asked why we never have fortune cookies anymore. Again…so random. Where do these thoughts come from? I wish I could climb into that brain, suck up the cancer, and then just get a peak into how that thing works. The thoughts of children have always intrigued me. Maybe thats why I work and study them, but lately I’ve been looking at Jacob like a little Yoda.
Teach me I say.
Honestly, I don’t even remember him ever having a fortune cookie. I’m sure at some point he’s had a fortune cookie, but I have no memory of this. But he pressed on with this thought.
Jacob: “Do you remember what it said.”
Me: “No. Do you?”
Jacob: “You’re never too old to dream. Isn’t that a good one? I got a good one.”
Me: “Yeah thats a good one.”
My yoda. My little yoda. But I quickly moved us forward with the day. I find living in the future as the only way now to live with the present. “What should we do next?” I ask, even when we just started an activity. Scared that we will be living in the now. I hate this now. Let’s just plan for tomorrow.
The rest of the day was go go go. When I mean “go go go,” we don’t actually go anywhere. We live, play and eat in 150 square feet. But its lively. It’s the “mom show.” First thing we did was brainstorm all the things we could do today and I made an activity board. And we check off the things we’ve done as we go. For every 5 things he puts on I get to add one (I snuck in math and letter formation practice). Knowing that Jacob won’t be joining his peers this fall for Kindergarten, and this is our new normal, I want school to be embedded into everything from the start. And it feels good to be useful. This I can do.
He was, of course, cheery. A bit tired and didn’t want to leave his bed, but I brought fun to him and he partook and seemed to be enjoying the mom show.
It was time for lunch. He wasn’t hungry. It was time for diner. “NO” he yelled.
He stopped eating.
This is not Jacob. About a year ago Jacob over heard someone talk about their “passion” and he asked me what that meant. I explained that it is something that you care so much about that if you had your choice you would do it all the time. He thought and proclaimed that eating is his passion. We have been laughing about this ever since. Especially with his little pot belly, eating as a passion seemed fitting and delightfully refreshing since his brother eats nothing.
I knew how to solve this. HAPPY MEAL. Every time we are in the car and Jacob sees McDonalds he sings: “Nothings better than McDonalds.” He’s a super fan. So much so I put it on my vision board (I’ll post about this sometime).
So I went out and got him his favorite thing in the world. His eyes lit up at the sight of that box with golden arches. He put one in his mouth bit down, but didn’t chew. He didn’t want it.
That can’t be. He didn’t even ask for the toy. I put a fry in his mouth and he got mad at me.
I can’t even tell you how that felt. I know I’m supposed to expect this. I know I’m supposed to be prepared for this. Chemo makes you sick. The doctors say he will start to lose his hair soon, and develop sores, and there are a host of possible side effects and complications, but refusing Mc Donalds?! It put me over the edge.
I went to cry. Steve took my place. Always prepared. Always ready. “Babe you need to prepare yourself. This is going to get worse before better.”
But how? How do you prepare for this?! I can’t. I can’t. I can’t even see my kid not eat McDonalds, which is most parents ideal outcome. I just feel so unprepared.
I went outside. I’ve been outside now 3x. Each time its a shock.
Did you know its summer?!!!!!
For some reason I can’t comprehend it. It feels like winter in my bones. The humidity hits me hard. I put my face into the sun. and then I screamed like a mad woman on the street. I kicked a building for a good five minutes. The building won, but the pain felt good.
I found my mom and a friend and I guzzled a glass of shitty wine and it dawned on me.
I came back and threw the cookies in the air and we found the one that pointed to him.
“You will have a future of wealth and success.” He asked me what those two words meant and I told them, but I was just stuck on future.
And guess what? He ate the cookie. That was the only thing he ate, but he ate that cookie.
Thank you Panda Express. Thank you.