Posts Tagged Under grandpa
Grandpa’s Getting Chemo for Christmas
The holidays are here and this year for Christmas, Grandpa’s getting chemo. Our daughter Chiara is too young to be worried about it. She’s not quite four years old. We probably don’t even need to mention it, but that sets a bad precedent. At what point do we decide that she’s “old enough to know?”
Last year when Grandpa had surgery, she definitely wasn’t old enough to know. We just included Grandpa in our “special prayers” and left it at that. But in a couple of weeks she and her daddy are going to visit Grandpa. I want her to know that it’s important for her to be very good and very helpful. Three years old may be too young to talk about chemotherapy, but it certainly isn’t too young to talk about compassion.
A year and a half ago, I was pregnant and felt sick all the time. I had to explain to Chiara that I was too tired to play and too sick to read books. And so she took it upon herself—in her two-year-old way, of course—to read books to me. I guess she figured that that’s what you do to make people feel better. Our honesty and openness gave her an opportunity to be proactive. She was right; I did feel better, and touched, proud and amazed. Out of the hearts of babes. Continue… »
By Janine KovacFrom One Generation to the Next and the Next
My father-in-law will move from a skilled nursing facility to an assisted living apartment this week.
My husband and I are a bit frantic about figuring out what furniture and belongings from his large three-bedroom home will fit best in the new, tiny apartment, and about getting his nicotine stained and smelly condominium ready to rent out.
And we try not to panic over where the money to pay for all of this will come from.
By Marianne LonsdaleWhite Lies
Is it really so wrong that my three-year old son thinks his antibiotic medicine is peanut butter-flavored? That I, his mother whose duty includes teaching him right from wrong, has informed him of this, even though the medicine is actually that orange-flavored thick-coated stuff?
So I’ve lied. But it’s a white lie so it can’t possibly be so bad. Right?
Twice daily for 10 long days, as prescribed, I’m not having to force medicine into a clamped mouth while jousting the flailing appendages of a determined preschooler. My request is being met with “oooh, I like the peanut butter kind!” and a little mouth agape like a baby bird!
By Maija Threlkeld
