It’s become a pretty regular thing to Nate that Mom has cancer. At least, I think it has, as evidenced by a few stories that have happened within the past month.
One time we were at one of the parks with a play structure, and Nate wanted me to get on the play structure with him. Of course, he’s at the top and I’m standing at the bottom, so we had to yell our answers at each other. I told him that I couldn’t get on the play structure with him, and I can’t. I simply don’t have the energy for that kind of thing now. He yells, quite loudly:
Oh, right, you can’t because you’re 47 years old and you have breast cancer.
Yes, loudly. For everyone to hear. “Hi, All, yep, that’s me, the 47 year old with breast cancer. Anything else you’d like to know about me? Height? I won’t tell you my weight, sorry. But let me tell you about my chemo, my procedures, the whole thing . . . . ”
Sheesh!! Kids! 😀 You gotta laugh!
The next story? Well, this was before I got my prosthesis and I was still wearing the damnable fluff which Nate has seen. We’re pretty open with him about everything, in an age-appropriate way. I couldn’t find the fluff, so I was walking around muttering, “I can’t find the fluff!” Nate, being the ever-helpful boy that he is said that he would help me find the fluff. Finally, it got too late so I said, “Never mind, Nate. I’m just using some socks.”
How many socks, Mom?
“Two pairs of socks, Nate.”
Two pairs? Oh, OK, Mom.
. . . . As I’m thinking about how bizarre this conversation between a mom and her 6 year old is, I say to Nate, “Nate, this is going to cost you some therapy down the road.”
It is? Therapy? Are you going to tell your therapist, Mom?
“Oh, probably, Nate. I’m sure I’ll tell my therapist about it, Nate.”
Sure enough, I did tell my therapist about it who said that the exchange showed how accepting Nate has become of everything that’s happened, of my breast cancer, and that we’ve done a good job of telling him what’s gone on and been honest with him and made it as much of a “non-issue” as something like this can be.
I guess we have.
Still, after the fluff/socks conversation, I did tell Nate, “ummmmm, Nate, that was a family conversation. Don’t tell your friends at Sunday school or school about that, OK?” HAHAHAHA!! Of course, here I am telling my friends about it, in a great “do as I say not what I do” Mom moment. *sigh*
Just showing how I have, in some ways, become my mother.
But the fluff/socks conversation would have never ever taken place in my household growing up.
Cross-posted to Just Enjoy Him.