Wednesday, November 19, 2008
a week late, a birthday post: he was sick with an ear infection Monday and Tuesday, and I have to admit being secretly pleased when he insisted he was well enough to go into kindy on his birthday (Wednesday) - he wanted to do the bit at group time when he got to stand up and say it was his birthday and he was five...
he now has a tagalong instead of a bike trailer, which scares the living whatsit out of me; he looks so vulnerable on it, like a creature out of its protective shell too early.
and the actual party? at a play centre, thank God, as I had the bug after him, or some other thing that made me lie in bed and groan and throw up a little. I was nearly well again by Sunday and the 12/13 of them ran around the play equipment like mad things. fortunately no injuries.
we're doing school orientations. he's learning, bit by bit, to control the boy impulses that come with being school age (hitting, shouting, throwing: all the normal stuff, even in my sweet little boy). I'm feeling that pretty soon he'll be gone from me: even though he has been in a lot of care, school is different; I'm trying when I can to shorten those care days, but my work/writing/freelancing is going really well (apart from last week's sickness bout) so I can't cut it back too much.
he can write his name if I spell it for him. he thinks he's a big boy. next year he'll be six years old.
oh, and I am now four years post-diagnosis and as far as they can tell, still in remission...
he now has a tagalong instead of a bike trailer, which scares the living whatsit out of me; he looks so vulnerable on it, like a creature out of its protective shell too early.
and the actual party? at a play centre, thank God, as I had the bug after him, or some other thing that made me lie in bed and groan and throw up a little. I was nearly well again by Sunday and the 12/13 of them ran around the play equipment like mad things. fortunately no injuries.
we're doing school orientations. he's learning, bit by bit, to control the boy impulses that come with being school age (hitting, shouting, throwing: all the normal stuff, even in my sweet little boy). I'm feeling that pretty soon he'll be gone from me: even though he has been in a lot of care, school is different; I'm trying when I can to shorten those care days, but my work/writing/freelancing is going really well (apart from last week's sickness bout) so I can't cut it back too much.
he can write his name if I spell it for him. he thinks he's a big boy. next year he'll be six years old.
oh, and I am now four years post-diagnosis and as far as they can tell, still in remission...
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