When Brady Was Five- Chapter Excerpt from"Raising Brady"

After we got home, playing with his trains got boring so he begged to go to his favorite place, The Model Train Store. Even the fifty-minute drive to Culver City didn’t bother or bore Brady. Pulling up to the store, I couldn’t get his seat belt off fast enough.

“Why can’t I buy the Lionel Train?” he pleaded. “I’m old enough to work it.”  

The train was expensive and a very serious train. I kneeled down to be sure he’d hear me.  
“Brady, on the box it says you have to be at least eight years old,” I said, relieved I had an out.
“But, Mom,” he said, "the box won’t know I’m only five!”

We left the store, with Brady yearning for his eighth birthday. I left hoping they’d change the age on the box to twelve by the time Brady turned eight.

Excerpt from Chapter 3 -"Into The Abyss"

                                                                                                          

         “How are you, Jaime?” I said, with my walls up.

         “I’m living with friends in a motel room,“ she depressingly said. “None of us have places to live so we pooled all our money for the motel. We’ve been here four days and I can’t buy groceries. I need my money to pay for the room.”

         She began to choke up. “I’m hungry, Mom.”  

         I began to weep. She said she was hungry. I knew to never give money to an addict, but I am a mother, and I had to go to my child. She was hungry.

         After driving an hour, and arguing with myself whether I should be doing this at all, I was there. I pulled into the parking lot of a seedy golden yellow-painted motel with what appeared to be strung-out druggies and drug dealers crowding the area. It was like a scene out of a movie. Some were in cars, some leaned against them, while others were hanging outside the motel doors. I felt ill and scared. I never imagined I’d be in a place like this. How could my daughter have adapted?

Swamped As Only A Mother Can Be

Sorry it's been a while since blogging. You're going to hear that a lot. Mothering has stepped up a notch and I'm swamped. There's more homework in Third Grade: 15 minute reading is now up to 20 minutes a night, home work is not only Literature and Math, but Geography and Science, too. Then there's Tennis and Piano, Eye Doctor Appointments, Check-Ups, free play and getting sick. Of course, the getting sick part happened right after he was home from school for Teacher Conferences and religious holidays. Help! Where's that extra minute for... me? Oh, almost forgot; I'm a functioning Mom, again!

It's The Little Things That Makes A Mom Smile

It’s been said that most children don’t fully appreciate their parents until they have children of their own. 

Our son, Adam was breezing along with two kids, and didn’t truly feel the impact. It wasn’t until his wife, Darcy gave birth to third baby, daughter, Charlie, that Adam was in frantic land.                                          

“Mom, now I know how difficult parenting is,” Adam exhaustively, said. “I really appreciate how hard you worked having all of us.”                                                                                                                    

There is a G-d!

            

TODAY, STU IS 5 YEARS CANCER FREE!!!!

(The following is an excerpt from Fifth Child)         

At first Stu thought it was just stomach gas. Then he thought it might be an ulcer or perhaps his heart. After several check-ups with negative finds, he concluded it must be a strained back and went for physical therapy. It was there that the therapist said he felt a mass on his abdomen that didn’t feel right.

After seven months of much discomfort, having to sit in an upright position to be able to fall asleep, in 2007, Stu was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s abdominal lymphoma. As with any C-word diagnosis, the news was devastating. With all we’d been through  -with all Stu had been through- it was hard to accept we had another hurdle to negotiate, especially with our newest responsibility. How were we going to do this? I had a husband getting ready to go through chemo and a three-year old going through the tyrannical three’s!            

Never a typical terrible two year old, Brady made up for it as soon as he turned three. He challenged and tested us every step of the way, throwing toys at us when he was frustrated, hiding in places we couldn’t find him and refusing to sit for more than thirty seconds in a timeout. Stu and I searched our memory bank for clues. But when our kids were young, not even Adam was this defiant. It seemed that Brady wanted to see how much we could take, whether we’d take it, and then also take him. I read that anger was a normal response for children with abandonment issues and that it will come out in places where a child feels safe. If this was true, it was good that Brady felt safe enough with us to express his anger, but very stressful on us keeping our emotional responses in check.                                                                                     

“Brady, we love you, no matter what you do,” we repeatedly said to him. Still he pressed on. There were certainly times we let him get the better of us and felt impotent in our parenting skills. It was exhausting, not only because of our ages, but with the uncertainty of what was ahead of us concerning Stu.                                                             

Stu was scared and I found myself with my walls up; not able to face that he had cancer. I drove him to chemo but couldn’t be around it, so I left and ran errands, anything for diversion. Stu thought it was mean of me, but I saw it as survival. I was overwhelmed by Stu’s illness and needed my wits about me to care for a child. “Lynne,” Stu weakly said after a chemo session, “I don’t think I can do this and raise Brady at the same time.” 

For Stu, going through chemo was like having a major flu that never went away. He felt so sick, so weak and in such pain that he thought we should have Brady go to one of our other children’s homes.                                                                                                                                  

“Please, Stu, we can’t do that to him.” I begged. “He’s been through enough upheaval in his short little life. We have to make this work.”  

            

The next day, we had planned a hair-shaving party so that when Stu began losing his hair, Brady wouldn’t be afraid. Our youngest son, Josh came over to do the job. Stu sat on our staircase, while Josh made jokes as Stu’s hair fell to the floor and Brady’s laughter filled the room. Afterwards, Brady climbed up on Stu’s lap and put his arms around Stu’s neck.  “I love you. You’ll be fine,” our little old soul said, in no uncertain terms. Then Brady began to sing and Stu felt the joyful spirit that only a child can bring. “I think Brady’s the one who’s going to get me through this,” he surrendered.                                    

Amen.                       

            

Stu completed his treatment in July, just before Josh and Hazel’s August wedding. He was still weak and looked like the lead character in the movie, Powder. But Stu enjoyed being able to witness Josh happily getting married with Brady, Aidan and Skyler in the wedding party and brother, Adam as his best man. 

(That was five years ago -again, Amen!)  

                                                                                                                     

September 6, 1976

Jaime would have turned 36 yesterday. It's always a strange day. I usually think of her in her best light, with a few episodes of her and her addiction trying to creep in. It's daunting, as I try to think back to her childhood and all the dreams a parent has for a child.

What happened to our baby? We named her after my beloved grandmother so that unconditional love would be part of her being. She was swaddled in a pink blanket made by Stu’s mother, to add sweetness and gentility to her life and my mother gave her a huge Raggedy Ann doll for protection. Jaime was the sweetest and most Bohemian of our children. She strived for originality even in elementary school. Her fashion whims would have even impressed her idol, Cindy Lauper, as would her musical talent. We had such hope for our child.

            
At least we have the best of her with us. When I told Brady that it would have been Jaime's birthday, he said we should buy a cupcake and put a candle on it. He's such a little old soul. I then explained the Jewish custom to honor those who've passed; that we light a candle on the day of her death to remember her. He asked what date she died on and I got to share something curious with him, which most likely wouldn't be to a numerologist. Jaime was born on 9-06-76 and died on 6-09-09. It still blows my mind.

Almost Back To Blogging

Our trip to Israel was AMAZING but exhausting. We flew to Philadelphia and New Jersey to visit family and decompress. As soon as we got home to California, I had to purchase school supplies, lunch box snacks and Brady was back in school. We've been adjusting to the new schedule and I'll be back to offering up more book excerpts. I've been self-editing and made some needed changes to the manuscript. Hope summer was good for everyone. It's been way too hot here!