Giving and receiving

Here’s a link to an article I wrote for the St. Baldrick’s website, which was posted today.  They had originally asked me to write something about the sibling aspect and the friendly competition we set up between Braedan’s and Austin’s teams. But that can be a bit of a touchy subject around here, especially as Austin’s team was both larger and raised more money than his big brother’s.  Fortunately, Braedan hasn’t seemed to notice that, in part because their individual donations came out so close (thank you, everyone, for taking the time to split your money between them), but I didn’t want to draw any more attention to it than necessary.

So, I switched my focus long after the kids’ bedtime last night and here’s the piece, which I’m pretty pleased with.

There’s also an article written by one of the doctors at Rainbow, Alex Huang, focusing on his St. Baldrick’s-funded research. He was never Austin’s direct provider, but it’s a pretty small world over there so we’ve certainly known him over the years. It was really interesting to read his background and how losing childhood friends to cancer drove him into this career.  And I love his closing line: “Most importantly, my personal involvement in St. Baldrick’s fundraising efforts affirms my commitment to pediatric oncology research every year, so I don’t ever lose sight of why I am doing what I do in the first place.”

And, at the risk of boring you all with my repetitive lines, here’s an article from the April Heights Observer about our event, written by — ahem — Mark (his wife was clearly referenced and quoted too often to be the author).

The purplest

We are ever-so-slowly making our way through the boxes and putting together one room at a time (or in my case, putting together a tiny corner of one room and then one tiny corner of another, as every time I wander away looking for a screwdriver or curtain rod, I end up getting sucked into something else somewhere else — and usually forgetting said screwdriver or said curtain rod). Anyway, I have pictures of the boys’ rooms to share, the colors and themes of which were chosen by each boy himself.

Here is Braedan’s blue outer-space bedroom:

Learning from the master

The highlight of the house: a connecting door to Austin’s room

And here is Austin’s red transportation-themed room:

That magical door again

As always, just a blur of motion

Their coordinating red and blue rooms remind me of one of my very favorite children’s books, I Love You The Purplest. The story answers that question that all parents of all time have heard from their children, “Which of us is your favorite? Who do you love the best?”

In this tale, a mother and her two sons head out in the evening sun to go fishing on a pond near their cabin. The one son is cautious and kind, slow and hard-working. The other is quick and lively, running and jumping about. They seek their mother’s approval on each page: Who dug up the best worms? Who’s the best fisherman? And her answers appease them both: “Why, you have the most worms and you have the liveliest worms.” Or, “You caught the most fish, but you were patient and caught the biggest fish.”

In the final pages as she tucks them into bed, each whispers in her ear, “Mama, who do you love the best?” And she answers one, “I love you the bluest.” Blue like the calm summer sky, blue like the ripples gleaming on the lake. The other she loves the reddest. Red like the flames of the fire, red like the hot desert flower.

So, tonight I will tuck my sensitive, gentle Braedan into bed in his blue room and my passionate, fiery Austin into bed in his red room. I love them the purplest.