I feel like a broken record. Each day for the past two months (exactly two months on today's date- the 13th) I have had this inner dialogue: Lord, please just heal this ear. We will be forever grateful. Hasn't Corbin endured enough? Aren't the lessons borne from this sufficient? We have been forced into a deeper compassion for families of children suffering illnesses and birth defects. We have been coerced to see the silver lining in the dimmest of situations...." yadda yadda. Not only do I spin this wheel in my own head, but I'm also pretty good at projecting my worry outwards. My sister gave me the Guatemalan worry people for a reason ;)
Anyway, I realized today (when Kristen Wachob stopped by the house to say hi) that I have been deliberately avoiding people because I am well aware that I am completely consumed with the status of my son's ear. It's no lie. I wake up, take off the ear cup, wash the ear, put on bacitracin, hem and haw over the blood spots on his pajamas, seek Matt's opinion, take pictures of the ear, email them to the doctor, and then I'm either out the door to go to work or furiously attacking house chores. At work, people ask "how is your son?" And I launch into how worried we are.

It's tough work being worried. Intellectually I understand that my worry does absolutely nothing to solve the problems and that my time could be better spent praying to God that he will take on the burden; that this "ear thing" will play out the way it's meant to go. But, ya know what? That ain't how I roll. I'm the mama to this precious little boy. It's my job to make sure he has the best we can give him in life. And, damn it, if this ear doesn't pan out to be glorious for him, I'm going to be mighty sad. Frankly, we elected this treatment for him because we want him to have a full,happy life. We've barely scratched the surface on fixing Corbin's hearing. We'll do referrals for fitting a soft band bone-anchored hearing aid. He will try that for a while at preschool, and then when his 5th birthday rolls around, we'll be deciding again if Corbin should undergo surgery. Will we implant a permanent hearing aid or will we just coax him into wearing a headband when he's at school? This is all very daunting to me. There are those who say, "Count your blessings. It could be worse. He could be born with mental disabilities...etc" That is all absolutely true. And when I do stop to think about how great we've got it, I ground myself a bit. But it would be dishonest to say that I have not been wallowing in our tiny little set of sorrows lately. I like to type these things out. It's healthy to journal. Now, if you're still reading, just know that Corbin is totally happy and running around this house as usual. He does not complain when we have to put a strap and cup on his ear every. single. night. He is really teaching me so much. In his words, "no big deal, Mama."
I guess in the grand scheme of things, it really isn't.

Worries

The best place to be during a tropical storm is the beach.
The restaurants are quiet, the bike paths are open, the sand is untouched, and the neighborhood pool is private. With Matt's mechanic genius, we were able to convert an abandoned and rusted beach- cruising bike into an operable ride for my sis. We hooked up the trailer to my bike for Corbin to ride in and the whole family hit the bike path along 30A here at the Gulf of Mexico. The rain was pelting us and it felt so rebellious to be riding a bike as my cotton capri pants were consequently becoming see-through cheese cloth. We pulled off into the parking lot of a state park and rode all the way to the end of a boardwalk that was clearly marked for pedestrians only, but again, it's storming. There are no park rangers are out to hassle us. We had the most majestic view of the sand dunes gently rolling from the boardwalk's beginning out to the gulf. These are Florida's "mountains."

We have been breaking all of convention's rules and Corbin totally deserves it. He is about to endure another surgery (poor baby) and has been such a compliant three-year-old with antibiotics thrice daily since July. Yesterday we let him swim in the pool while it was raining and wind was blowing leaves into the pool. He kept yelling, "this is SO fun, Mommy!" The motto of this little pit stop on the way across the country AGAIN is: "give our worries away." I have been praying and trying to hand them over to God, but they just keep creeping into my mind. I look at Corbin's pink,raw, puffy ear and want to scream at the unfairness of it all. But, of course, that doesn't help us. My sweet sister gave me a small box of Guatemalan worry dolls. Tonight I gave each one a single worry to dwell on, and I put them under my pillow. Supposedly by tomorrow morning my worries will be gone ;)
I also wrote the worries in the wet packed sand. I drew a picture of an ear on the smooth sand and wrote "Ear Peace Please?!" I hope the phrase gets washed out to sea and drifts forever out of my heart. I love Corbin like I never thought imaginable. There are so many moms who can relate. The connection to your child is fierce. When a child is forced to undergo painful surgeries and long recoveries, the mother's heart breaks. That's where I am. I'm not defeated. I'm wounded. We have one more day of beach fun. We could have seen this weather as a metaphor for this past year- a threatening black cloud. But we have chosen to play in the rain. We will revel in it one more day and then put on our armor for this next surgery. Corbin's implant will come out, the doctor will sterilize it and make a new implant mold. He will inject antibiotics into the tissue, replace the implant, and sew Corbin up again. Corbin will be tender and will have to start the healing process again. I will cry. Matt will remain steely-faced and strong. We will silently be dying inside until we see signs of improvement in our son. And then, somehow, on the other side, we will grow.

PreSchool

Today was Corbin's first day at O'Neal's preschool. On the way I asked Corbin if he was excited and he said, "yea, I'm a teacher at O' Meal. I have to teach people stuff." (He always calls it O'Meal) And then he was quiet for a second and said, "What is a teacher?"
We discussed that for a minute and then he said, "well, I'm just going to play at my school." I guess teaching didn't sound too interesting. We pulled into the parking lot and he announced "I am not going to cry, Mama. When you drop me off, I am just going to say bye." I was relieved to hear that because seeing him look so grown up with a backpack certainly made me want to cry. When I picked him up he was smiling and pretending to be a super hero. All of the kids were gathered around Mrs. Vest, their sweet teacher, reading a book. Corbin was holding puzzle pieces up to his body. They were from a super hero puzzle. He was listening to the story while simultaneously balancing these puzzle pieces in the correct places on his body. He had a wooden torso and cape resting on his belly and wooden eyes resting on top of his nose. Mrs. Vest said, "he is so sweet, and so kind, and just really responsible for his age. He ate all his lunch too!"
I asked Corbin if he was ready to go and he said, "Nah. Mama. I'm having fun here."
THAT is exactly what I wanted to hear!!!! :) I am so thrilled that he had a great first day.
We were walking out the door when he said, "I need to give Connor a smooch." I realized Connor is his little buddy (a boy!) and quickly said, "oh, how about a high five instead?" They high-fived and then he marched right out. I'd say it was successful.

Before you read this long blog post, I want to apologize for the stream-of-consciousness. There is a lot to say and not much time to blog it; I intended to keep a tidy California 2011 journal. It's still just nothing more than an intention.
Okay, so first up- Irwin and Barbara
Los Angeles' sweetest old couple just happens to be connected to the Weeks family. Aunt Liz's uncle and aunt live in a Mediterranean mansion that is nestled amongst other beautiful homes on a hill overlooking Sunset Blvd. and Santa Monica. They are about four miles from the Pacific Ocean in a house built in 1927. The front door alone was unbelievable. A huge custom-built door that is so heavy it's on some sort of sliding steel ball-bearing thingy majigger (ask Matt). Original Mediterranean mosaic flooring was on the side porch and their secret garden back yard boasted an orange tree, two avocado trees, a fig bush, roses, hydrangeas, and tomatoes. It was like Corbin could sense the fragility of our hosts and was on his BEST behavior. He said please and thank you, kept his napkin in his lap, smiled, tried quiche/salad/chicken/rice and all very gratefully. We were really proud of him, and of course, he's never met a stranger. So, Barbara was his instant best friend when she overheard him asking about where their laundry room and vacuums are located, she just perked right up and said, "come with me, sweet thing. I will show you." Irwin served in World War 2. It was amazing to talk to them and hear about all their worldly experiences over decades and decades of marriage. When we pulled up into the driveway he announced to us, "I'm 88!" It was the cutest thing ever. Conversations between Irwin and Corbin were funny as both have significant hearing loss. Here sat Corbin with an ear cup and hat on which both muffle everything and Irwin at the other end of the table with two hearing aids. I interpreted for them ;) Having dinner with them was one of the highlights of this trip.





"We're at the happiest place on Earth, damn it!" An extremely crowded Disneyland Wednesday night did not a happy place make...
All in all, we've had a nice visit. Given the circumstances, we've all managed stress really well. I think it's a little bit hilarious that my first real break down happened at Disney. Yup. I cried my little eyes out amidst the stress of vacationing chaos. I think my anxiety about seeing Corbin's ear and his graft site on his skull have been haunting me for about a week. I've had several nightmares that we're going to see rotten flesh. I know that sounds morbid, but it's true. I am totally freaked out. I guess I feel like there's no undoing what has been done and I just pray to God that it looks like an ear. I fully expect swelling and redness and flakiness and that whole bit that Dr. Reinisch has warned us of, but there is still that unknown factor. And I'm scared. Corbin has been complaining about itching lately. I'm so glad that he gets the ear and head washed today. Poor buddy!







The one day that Corbin decides to show that he's still a three year old who is very capable of grumpiness just happened to be the afternoon we experimented with a trip to "the happiest place on Earth." We learned two lessons- 1.) do not take said grumpster to a theme park on an off day and 2.) when 5pm rolls around, the adults come to play at Disney and it's even MORE crowded than when moms and tots are out in the morning. Bleh. Nevertheless, Mema and Granddaddy are real troopers and we all made the best of it. We all rode the Buzz Lightyear Astro Blaster ride. We could take agresssion out on Zurg, the evil emperor with the little laser guns. We saw the evening parade, and Matt and I rode the Haunted Mansion ride. That's about the only thing we could find for under 45 minutes of waiting. We had two awesome half days at Disney, but this last visit was fodder for a cynical montage. I just kept picturing in my mind's eye the "It's a Small World" tune with still photos fading in and out of families in total melt down. There was no shortage of ill-behaving children of all ages: moms dragging kiddos by the wrists, brats screaming at parents, adults blowing up at each other (almost always clad in Mickey ears). All this with sickeningly cartoonish and peppy music all around. It really did make me laugh out loud several times when I thought about what an awesome SNL sketch could be made from it. We scarfed down some less-than-spectacular pizza, hit the gift shop, and called it quits. The tram ride back to the car was pleasant. Corbin announced in a really sweet voice, "I'm very sorry for being grumpy." Ah, never too little too late on those kinds of apologies.

The car ride home was hysterical. Corbin was pretending to attack Chili Cat and told us he was a Meanosaurus. It's now my new favorite word.

California Crazies

Sightings of what I am endearingly calling "California Crazies"

1. Old Man Roller-Blading on North Robertson Boulevard on the street, weaving in and out of traffic shouting incomprehensible reprimands and waving his finger at invisible people. He was clad in black spandex and had sun-kissed, okay leathery, skin underneath the Los Angeles sun.

2. Boombox Bafoon
A mid thirties man walking down Wilshire Boulevard holding a battery powered clock radio up to his ear as if it were a boom box as he belted out some lyrics of various rap songs. We passed him once on our way to the Peterson Museum and then had the pleasure of seeing him again on the way home. Wow.

3. Santa on vacation
This sighting was my favorite. An older gentleman (to be overly gracious) was sitting shirtless in front of Starbucks rubbing his gray chest hairs and dabbling in his belly button. Matt dubbed him Santa on holiday. Hey, just because he's from the North Pole doesn't mean he can't work on a tan...

Favorite quote of the day:
"Why do pigeons have to move their necks like that to walk? Can you imagine? I mean what if we had to move our necks forward and backward to be able to move around? Heather, you're into running, and that would mean really fast neck movement. You'd come back from your runs like, "shit, my neck is really sore."- Matt Weeks
To make this quote perfect, I would need to show you the pigeon-neck demonstration that accompanied it ;)

We had a great day. Corbin felt good and was in a happy mood all day. He ate well, took a good nap, enjoyed dinner at Maggiano's and saw the Winnie the Pooh movie. It really was a cute movie.

Ear surgery is behind us. Sort of.
The procedure was successful. Our little man is recovering. He had multiple skin grafts from abdomen, thigh, and skull.
He had an incision on his skull to vascularize the ear implant. He was a real trooper and I'm just overwhelmed with emotions. I love Corbin more than words can express. God is good.

T minus three days

It's Thursday, July 7th. Sunday, the 10th we board the plane to California.
It is still not sinking in fully. We're going across the country in three days. Three days later Corbin will be rolled into the anesthesia department and I might just crawl out of my skin. I'm hoping to tame the anxiety with books and a "teach yourself to knit" kit. Yes, I will be attempting it. Again.
Lately we've been squeezing every bit of summer fun out of this fleeting summer that we can. We have made several trips to Mema's pool. Corbin even put his face in with goggles on this past Monday!! That is true progress as he was reluctant to even get his face wet in the pre-swimming shower at swim lessons just a few weeks ago. He has had a blast with his bicycle, tricycle, sand box, and swimming pool this summer. I am sitting here thinking that it has flown by, but in remembering everything we've done since Memorial Day, it has been a pretty packed month of fun. We have settled into a little routine of twice-weekly trips to the reservoir trail. He rides his tricycle (with big off road tires) around the lake and then hops into the jogging stroller so that I can jog around it. That makes a total of just a little more than 4 miles. We spread out a blanket near the geese and have a picnic. Corbin likes to share crackers and goldfish with the geese and ducks. When we aren't chilling on the back deck in the sand box or riding circles in the cul de sac, we can be found on regional adventures;)
I have gotten a little braver as Corbin gets older. We went to the beach by ourselves and camping. The camping trip was so refreshing and evoked such fond memories of Blowing Rock and Boone. As I hiked the trail around Price Lake with Corbin on my back I couldn't help remember countless climbing trips with my Dad and sister, family camping/hiking trips, grueling road bike rides on the parkway, training runs with my ASU teammates. I LOVE western North Carolina. It holds a special place in my heart. I hope to be able to share it and enjoy it more with Corbin. After all, how bad is a three hour car ride when you get to see spectacularly gentle mountains fading into the blue horizon.