Rough Week
6/5/2010
I am here at Olympic Gymnastics where Xander is having a birthday party for one of his school friends. Basically, you rent the whole place for two hours. When we first started coming here about 3 years ago, we hit upon the idea of having a party here so Xander wouldn’t spend his whole gymnastics class crying. It worked, though now he takes karate lessons instead of gymnastics. They are not the highlight of his week. Life’s tough, kid.
Wendi did not have a good day, yesterday. The morning was spent in Xander’s classroom. He was not as improved as she hoped. Last week, after consulting with his pediatrician, both his school’s OT and Group Health’s OT, his teacher, school counselor, and our own 20+ years’ experience, we decided to go the ADHD medication route. Not something we’re happy with even with our pretty extensive knowledge on the topic. Everybody we talked to said the same thing, “We’re not recommending this per say, but other kids like Xander have had real improvement in school….” (Fill in the rest of the sentence mentally.)
Well, his classroom teacher agreed that the improvement hasn’t been as dramatic as we’d hoped. Wendi consulted with the doctor again and they agreed to double X’s current dose. (It is now a normal dosage for a boy X’s age and weight.) Both W. and I are big supporters of Science-Based Medicine (as opposed to getting medical advice from infomercials or, [shudder] Oprah) so this shouldn’t be a big deal but it still leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
After the classroom, Wendi went home and took a short nap. She hasn’t been sleeping well, or sometimes at all. Well, her 30-minute cat nap lasted hours instead and she had to rush to Cougar Valley to pick X up at 3:30. So much for any plans. But coming home was when the real trouble started. Here’s some background. We have wild rabbits in the neighborhood; little brown things we sometimes see in our front yard at dawn and dusk. (Granted, we may just being seeing the same rabbit over and over.)
Well, as the two were driving home, just about to our driveway, Wendi pointed out a rabbit by the roadside to Xander. A rabbit just sitting by the edge of the road. Not hopping away like other rabbits would be inclined to do. (Do you see where this is going ‘cause at this point Wendi sure hasn’t, bless her heart!) Well, upon a closer inspection, it wasn’t the Braveheart of Bunnies but one “headed towards the light”. It was still breathing and there wasn’t any visible trauma but the lack of movement and the head tilt meant it was probably a virus that lagomorphs are susceptible to.
At this point, Xander’s panicking in the backseat and Wendi’s no doubt wishing with ALL HER MIGHT that she could take back the previous 2 minutes. Not too long before, our beloved last rabbit Grover had died and Xander was inconsolable for days afterwards. It was an awful experience for all involved.
Seems the rabbit wasn’t all dead but just mostly dead so Wendi put it in the passenger seat and raced home. (And started speed dialing me but I was at the gym, having left my phone in the car.) She had a phone consultation with Xander’s doctor at 4:00 so she had to get home. So, she put Bugs into a box with a nice towel and some carrots and left him out on the deck because her “friend” once told her that “rabbits like to be outside when they are sick. It helps them.”
Note: Every time a lie is told, take a drink!
At this point, the Doctor calls and while the two adults are trying to converse on medical issues, Alexander is shouting at mommy, “Tell the doctor to call somebody who knows about rabbits!!” At this point, “the doctor” told Wendi that the bunny would be okay as long as it was left alone. With the curtains closed. So it was time for the healing power of TV so Xander got his weekly dose of Scooby-Doo.
(At this point, an oblivious husband and father has finished his workout and leisurely strolls to his car. What’s this? Ah, his phone. Hmmm…Someone has been calling.)
With son safely entranced by 30-year-old cartoons, Wendi went out to the garage, out the door, snuck out to the infirmary and flung the corpse into the bushes just off the deck. A bit later, mother and son decided to check on the patient and were delighted to see that the patient had miraculously recovered. (Do we really need quotation marks anymore?) Xander went back to TV and Wendi continued to phone her useless husband, finally getting through. The gist of the message I got was that only a moron would go without his phone at a time like this and I was to sneak home, find the dearly departed, fling him even farther into the bushes. Way farther. And then come home to hear all about the delightful outcome. Which I hadn’t heard about beforehand.
So that was it. Over the next few days, we kept a sharp look out for our rabbit we even did see a wild rabbit or two over the next few weeks. And that was good enough for Xander. And us.
I guess the moral of the story is that people lie. Parents lie. A lot.
Not sure that’s a moral. Maybe that’s just life.