School's Last Day

The house is cold. It's the beginning of June, and the house is cold. It's early morning, and the fans and air conditioners are all running. My love is ill, she has been for a couple days. She insists that she is burning up and that the house needs to be cooler. I am the opposite, I think it should be a little warmer. I also am the man, so I have little to no say in the matter.

She is going to stay in bed. I turned the alarm off and made sure she was still producing her cute little woman snores. She was. I snuck out of the room and started to get things ready for the day.

It's the last day of school for the kids. Yay summer vacation. We will see how their day goes. They get out early, just a little over half a day. Hopefully it goes great, because after they get home, we have to take both to the dentist for a check up. That may or may not be very fun for them.

As I mix up the pancakes, I remember the last visit to the doctor. There were needles. Caleb, the 10 year old, had to have blood sample taken. Carrie told me all the horror stories of previous visits when they had to take blood. Screaming...lots of screaming. Because of his autism, he cannot simply say his thoughts, but he can scream when he is hurt, and apparently it hurt him quite a bit. The tests were necessary though, and she told me how she had to hold him down while they took the sample. I am glad I wasn't there, I don't think I could have handled it. She's a lot stronger than I am.

I am working really hard to not burn the pancakes because I have acquired a reputation for burning things I try to cook. I don't deserve it, I think. Everyone burns something every now and then, it's only nature. In all honestly though, I have burnt spaghetti, during the boiling phase. I'm not joking.

So I pay extra attention now, and I recall my fears as we went last time to the doctor and they informed us they needed to take blood. I almost cried during that visit. Luckily I was able to keep the eyes from getting too moist in front of everyone. He didn't scream. In fact, he didn't really complain at all.

He sat perfectly still, watching them get his hand ready, watching them get the needle ready. He didn't tense up, which we were all afraid he would do. He just watched. The first attempt at hitting a vein failed.

So did the second attempt. Even though they wiggled the needle around under his skin and pushed and pulled and tried to work it in. Through it all he never made a sound. Standing there watching them move this needle around in the back of his little hand, we knew it had to hurt tremendously. They weren't just moving it a little, but a lot. Back and forth, back and forth, over and over. They just couldn't get it in.

Carrie and I kept looking at each other, knowing he was in pain but not saying a word about it. We had asked him to be brave, but this was ridiculous. He never even winced. They called in someone else for a third attempt. It was then he responded to it all.

He looked up and tears were running down his perfectly stoic little face and he said “One more time” in a small little voice that was filled with pain and a lot of fear. They got it in that time, finished up, and we left. He cried in the car all the way home. I still tear up remembering it.

Carrie told me a couple stories about doctor trips of the past. Some were okay, some not. I have seen them both 'freak out' over the smallest things. But I have also seen them both handle some very difficult situations with nothing less than an admirable level of maturity I cannot even begin to put into words. They're only 10 and 8, and sometimes they're more grown up than the adults they know.

I took a second away from the pancakes and woke them up. It's time to get ready for school. Caleb, or Boo as he is sometimes called rolls onto the floor from his bed. It's his usual routine. Roll from the bed to the floor, lay for a bit, then get up. Sometimes he will crawl out to the couch but this morning it is just the roll.

Sis, who is 8, is already awake. The girl doesn't sleep much. She's watching another Spongebob Squarepants dvd. I say another which is a lie, because it's the same one she (and therefore everyone else in the house) has watched 100 times already. What can I say, she likes SB. I tell her it's time to get dressed and rush back to the pancakes.

They're fine. I finish them up and make sure the kids are getting up. They are.

Boozie asks for breakfast of course. Sis doesn't sleep, Boo doesn't stop eating, it's the nature of the world. In case you're wondering, Boozie is also Caleb. Apparently when he was born, mom and dad couldn't decide on a name. They chose Caleb for the birth certificate, but he goes by Manny, Boo, Boozie, Boozie Bear, Poo, Pooh Bear, Schnoo, Shnuggie. I could continue but I refuse.

I get them fed and dressed, brushed and cleaned, and the bus shows up early. It's okay, they were ready. Off to school they go for a half day, then to the dentist. I hope their day goes good. I will know in four hours.