Monday, September 28, 2009
A WEEK OF FIRSTS
Thank you for all your love, prayers and support for our boy, Rojo. He's feeling better. Finally. A month of lethargy, mysterious symptoms, non-responses to different meds, etc.
I finally took him to the children's naturopath that is in partnership with my naturopath. I knew she would know what to do, and maybe I was reluctant to know. You know?
We met with her for 90 minutes. She asked us one million questions. She examined him head-to-toe. Then she started in on the list of what we need to radically change: his diet, eliminate allergens in the home, add in a bunch of supplements, get him orthotics, etc., etc., etc. That's pretty much about the time I started to cry. Just a little. She said, "I know this is overwhelming. I expect you to have questions. I expect you to call me or e-mail me all the time. I will do everything I can do at my home, to make this work at your home. If I need to bake muffins and bring them in for him, I'll do it."
WHO DOES THAT?
The same woman that e-mailed me three times on a Sunday.
My latest angel in a whole string of angels in my life, and the lives of my children.
Rojo took to her INSTANTLY, he was funny, he was profound, he spouted off exact dates for her, "I got my braces on 8/13/09." When she asked me if he'd ever had asthma, I said no. He corrected me. "No, remember when I was three and I had to take that puffer one time?" He participated fully.
He was ready to heal.
That's the only thing keeping me from throwing myself over the nearest bridge - the belief that we couldn't have done all this until he was game, until he was buying in - basically, until he felt like shit and was ready to help us help him.
He came home from the appointment and tried a Trader Joe's SPINACH PIZZA. Since Friday he's eaten a total of SIX spinach pizzas. SPINACH!
On Saturday I got him to try peanut butter. Of course I had to promise to be "furious" promise I'd "throw a fit" and "flip my wig." But it worked. He ate, and I was furious, had a fit, and flipped my wig. All. Day. Long.
At dinner he had one raspberry. His first ever.
Tonight is also the night that Rojo is having his first sleepover. He's never spent the night with a friend, or asked to have a friend here. About a week ago he was telling me about his friend K.'s plans. "K. is spending the night with G. on Friday and M. on Saturday." He looked wistful.
"Would you like to have a friend sleep at our house sometime?" I asked, betting money he'd say no.
"Yes!" he said, "I'd like K."
I contacted K.'s mom. I explained the whole thing. I said it would need to be unconventional, and because Rojo goes to bed early and gets up early, a weekend probably wouldn't work for K., but what about a school night? That way they'd only have a few hours together before bed, and the next morning would be all about getting up and getting to school.
"Carrie," she replied, "I asked K., he didn't even hesitate for a second. He'd love to come. He'll be there Monday at 5:00, right after he finishes his homework."
K.'s mom used to be a special ed teacher, I found out. No accidents.
The boys are having a ball, laughing, eating popcorn, watching Monday Night Football. And I am off in a nearby corner typing.
And feeling grateful.