ninanevermore: (Default)
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My father is an engineer, and everything he does is done according to a plan. Before he does anything, he considers all the factors and comes to the most logical and rational decision about how to proceed. Take speeding, for example: when driving on the freeway, my father drives 7 miles over the speed limit. In the Houston area, the police will generally not pull you over unless you are going 10 miles or more over the posted limit. As a result, most people drive a bit faster. If you drive the posted limit in Houston you incur the ill-will of your fellow commuters for doing so and increase the chances of an accident by inspiring them to tailgate you and pass you in unsafe circumstances. If you drive too much over it, you get a ticket. My father has figured out that by going exactly 7 miles faster than the law says he should, he gets where he wants to go a few seconds faster and he doesn’t get a ticket. He hasn’t been pulled over in over 30 years .

Recently, he told me he plans to die in 5 years. No sooner, no later. He's a guy who likes to have the blueprints in front of him before he starts a project. This final project will take the next half decade.

Two little reason to hang on. )
ninanevermore: (Default)
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Four-year-old humans are pieces of work, as well as being works in progress. My son might have his moments, but I can usually put him in his place. On the other hand, life has enabled my stepsister's little boy, Reese, to throw his parents a curveball when he wants to.

Shortly after his second birthday, Reese was diagnosed with a rare form of kidney cancer called Wilm's Tumor that only happens in children under the age of 5. He endured a surgery to remove his kidney followed by 6 months of chemotherapy, and these days he is healthy and thriving. If you ask him, he will willingly raise up shirt and show you the scar across his midriff where they took out the diseased kidney and another scar on his chest where they inserted a port to administer the chemo. With his shirt on, though, he looks like any other skinny little kid.

He knows something rotten happened to him. His brothers and sisters don't have to have blood work done twice a year to make sure they are cancer free and that their kidney function is normal. He's well aware that he has more hassles to put up with than they do, and that can give a guy an additude.

This last week his father was correcting him for some minor infraction when Reese interrupted him.

He sighed, put his hands on his hips, cocked his head and said, "Oh, take it easy, will you Dad? I'm a cancer survivor!"

What's a toy or two left on the living room floor when you consider the big picture? Preschoolers have a way of putting things into perspective for you.


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ninanevermore: (Duckies)
I don't believe that children need to be decked out in designer threads, but I try to dress my son nice enough so that people don't mistake him for a street urchin. I also try to dress him so that his outfit looks coordinated. He's not going to grace the front of any kiddy fashion magazine, but he usually looks cute enough for company, as they say. At least he did before I bought a pair of sandals with Elmo on them. Now, no matter what else he is wearing, his Elmo sandals are the only shoes allowed on his feet, whether they compliment his shirt or not.

Victim #1 – Socks with Sandals )

Victim #2 – He's pretty in pink )
ninanevermore: (Default)
Today over my morning coffee, I was thinking about my stepsister's son, Reese, who is having surgery today to remove his right kidney. Late last week his doctor discovered a tumor on this kidney the size of a tennis ball. Once removed, the tumor and the will be biopsied. It is fully expected that he has cancer. I will call my father this evening to see how everything went, and meanwhile will pray for the best.

Reese turned two in January, which makes him three months younger than my own son. A tumor that size on a child that small makes it as big as, or bigger than, the kidney it took over. They believe he has something called Wilms' Tumor, a form of kidney cancer that usually affects children under the age of 6. The doctors say they are lucky it was caught this early. Usually, these fast-growing tumors are the size of a softball by the time anyone discovers them.

Oh, for a Saber-Toothed Tiger to Fight )
ninanevermore: (Default)
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about how being a parent can bring out a competitive streak in a person. My stepsister has a son 3 months younger than my own son. In today's cut-throat world, we all strive to be above average. Average means not good enough to be any better. I am here to state for the record that my son is perfectly average. He is the average height for a boy of 17 months, he began walking at the average age and he is learning to talk at the average speed. He is smack-dab in the middle of the baby bell curve.

My step sister's son, Reese, is larger than average, is already stringing words together in little baby sentences ("Daddy go?"), and is on the well-above-average side of the bell curve. I'm starting to dislike the little man.

But he has a nice personality )

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