Amanda and the Hendersons

There are some days when I absolutely convince myself that I have made up Parklen's illness.  I think thoughts in my head like, "he probably isn't really sick, I must be imagining it,"  I think this is my way of trying to take responsibility for his problems.......  I sit and wonder these things, and then I look down to see Parklen, his face so sad....black under his eyes, fluid gushing from his ears, I see his protruded stomach, the lines in his teeth....I watch as he cries from pain, I know very well.......I am not making it up.  Never mind that the doctor's tell me so, just seeing him tells me more. We are battling Prednisone in our home, Parklen is really struggling to control himself.  The side effects of this drug are so strong, even at the low dose that he only takes every other day.  Parklen cannot sleep...not hardly at all.  Falling asleep is all but impossible, staying asleep even harder.  His "roid rage" is intense.  He is lashing out at ev

 The best part of potty training.....  I feel like the entire world should know, and be excited about the fact that my three year old hasn't pooped his pants in ELEVEN days....That's right, my THREE year old (they said he would be five or six) is no longer messing his pants.  This means no more diapers, no more diapers NO MORE DIAPERS!!!  Every night he takes his place on our "stage" (atop a kitchen chair) and I say, in my best announcer voice, "Attention Henderson Family, I would like to introduce the boy who has gone ____ days without POOPING his pants...give it up for Parklen Henderson.."  we all clap as hard as we can as Parklen takes a bow.  As Parklen steps down, Paysen climbs up..."Attention now for the older brother, the one who has taught Parklen all he knows....Paysen Henderson..."  And we clap and that's the end of it.   The boys freak about this......its really dorky and really silly but it works.  Making a big deal, makes i

I could not even hold back the tears today.  It was a normal fit for Parklen, especially normal after two straight hours of high dose steroids being pumped into his veins.  But, for whatever reason, when he began punching, scratching, hitting and attempting to choke me....I lost it.    I was just staring down at my baby, watching him turn purple as he attempted to get enough breath for his next scream, and my heart hurt so much that the tears shot out of my eyes. His rant was brought on by something small, a finger poke.  They just needed a tiny bit of blood for a test they missed yesterday.  This kid has had a billion finger pokes, they aren't a big deal.  Today he wasn't having it....he won the fight, they poked and he cried so much that his blood clotted and the test didn't happen.   The entire infusion floor could hear his wails (if you have never experienced a Parklen fit, it really is something to write home about) That kid can scream.   The moment that Parklen