'Bout Time

Life is actually returning to normal. Si still has a VERY long way to go, but he makes some sort of progress every day. Yesterday, I drove him over to the big church parking lot near our house, so he could demonstrate his driving abilities. Stop, go, stop, go, SLAM on the brake. Stop, go, SLAM on the break. I unstuck my cheek from the windshield. "That's great, honey!" If he can press down on the break hard enough to cause whiplash, he's good to go. So, today I let him drive up to Snowbird to pick up the kids from ski school. Avoiding icy patches, he carefully crutched to his office and sat down at his desk. That was that. "I'm going to work tomorrow."

His leg looks like s***, but less so than last week. He can shower himself, sitting on a plastic stool. His recovery has been seriously set back by his complications, but he is determined to get full movement back - he's spending about three hours a day doing various exercises.

And all this means....

That Simon can return to blog-livion. Move over, Tiny Tim, and let someone else have the attention around here.

Sara is writing her autobiography for a school project. This is a big project, with assigned chapters and sub-headings. Today, I recommended that she work on the page she is supposed to devote to her brother Nathan.

Nathan

My parents say they gave me Nathan as a gift. [Ahhh...the gift of a sibling. Spared the misery of only childhood...] But sometimes I wonder... My brother was born on February 11, 2002. A few very interesting things about my brother are:

1. He likes to say very weird made-up words like "hubajubaloco".
2. He likes to pretend to do kung-fu, but really all he's doing is flailing his arms and legs.

About this time, Nathan found her and asked her to read what she was writing. She was more than happy to share. Nathan came stomping into the kitchen to tell me that Sara was just writing mean stuff.

I told Sara that she was going to have to give some thought to a more balanced portrayal of Nathan, causing her to burst into tears at the very thought of saying anything nice about her little brother.

I was reminded of that passage from the Kevin Henkes book "Julius, the Baby of the World". Lilly can't stand her baby brother; when her mother suggests she tell Julius a story, she says,

"Once upon a time, there was a baby. His name was Julius. Julius was really a germ. Julius was like dust under your bed. If he was a number, he would be zero. If he was a food, he would be a raisin. Zero is nothing. A raisin tastes like dirt. The end."