Two weeks down, and our gratitude

 

This lean, long-legged fellow started a new season of T-Ball this week and loves it even more than last year.  He keeps his own stats, and the smile of pure joy that comes when it is his at-bat fills me with a joy of my own.  I wish I had even more time to talk to this guy, read to him, hear him read to me, beat him in Connect Four, get beaten by him in basketball.

And then there is this silly dude.  We went to a high school band concert a few days ago and when we reminded him to take his hat off inside, his harmonica came flying out.  Because evidently when one can't travel with drums or guitars, one takes his music with him however he can.  He is a funny one, and his dimpled ornery grin makes up for the coup he has been staging against the parents upon their return.  (We assume that his master plan is to put the grandparents back in charge as unknowing puppets under his control.)

  

Mr. Ishman, as Eli called him this evening, has matured like crazy in the last week.  At home in the playroom or out in the stroller/wheelchair, he is as personable as ever.  In fact, he seems to be less two-ish than he was pre-casts.  (He hasn't even contributed to Toby's uprising!)  On the contrary, he seems more attached to the parents than ever, which is a relief since we had been afraid that he would feel betrayed by this whole surgery stint. 

Nights, however, are when reality hit.  Our first week home had been a honeymoon week; we were up alot, but only to keep the medications going at the right intervals.  However, the valium was causing some serious fears in our little boy, so we were thankful when the pediatrician agreed that we could begin weaning him from that medication.  And right now, we are only using pain medication at bedtime and then when asked for (which is rare, and typically only at night).  But without the drug haze, sleeping is a challenge for Ish.  Void of the distractions that fill his daytime, he is ultra aware of his discomfort.  Back and tailbone pain from a day of activity result in restlessness and long periods of massaging.  ("Wub my back, Mommy.  With two hands.  Fast.")

I received a facebook message when we were just beginning this nighttime pattern:

"praying for you guys everytime i awake in the middle of the night......"

Which brings us to the second part of this post.  We are so thankful.  Thankful for those who have us on their minds, in their prayers.  Thankful for those who have brought us meals.  (I just cooked dinner for the first time since pre-surgery.  We hadn't even cleaned up and another one was delivered for us to use on another day.  Seriously.  And that after being surprised with a money gift for a special lunch this afternoon.)   Thankful for those who have taken Toby for some more active fun.  Thankful for those who have provided new sitting activities for us all to enjoy.  Thankful for those who have held doors open and hoisted wheelchairs.  Thankful for those who have sent cards, e-cards, e-mails.  Thankful for grandparents who have given so much time to help.  Thankful for a community who has been rooting for this little guy.
 
And we are overwhelmed by these kindnesses, and we remember that, as trite as it might sound, we need to pass them on.  To the family we recently learned of who is just grateful for another day with their little one.  To the ones who are struggling with their own battles yet helped us out just the same.  To the children we met in Baltimore who taught Ish to smile again.  To those in our neck of the woods and throughout the world who do not have such an incredible support system.  Because journeys, whether happy or tough, are better together. 
 
Thank you for being a part in in our journey.  We are humbled and grateful.