Chunky Chicken Noodle Soup and Naps

Jace requested soup for breakfast today. His favorite is the Chunky Chicken Noodle. After a rocky morning with an upset tummy, it seemed to soothe his body. We also ventured out of the house to attend (from a distance) Hayden's Grid Kid Football game. The field on which he was playing made it possible for us to park next to the game and view it from the safety of our own vehicle. It was good to feel the sunshine! I thought it would be difficult for Jace to stay in the pick-up, but he didn't feel well enough to play anyway. He looks good, but he's not our lively, run around the field kid. Lots of family members were supportive by putting their chairs in front of our vehicle and gathering in the general area as us so Jace didn't feel ostracized. Hayden played well and even scored a touchdown. Go Cats! It was so nice to be able to watch him. (Thanks Hayden's team for the cheer! It made Jace's day.)

We are trying to carry on a normal life for Hayden so he doesn't end up resenting his little brother or feeling unimportant (though I doubt Hayden would), and as many of you know, a typical Saturday afternoon for the Leathams is spent in the mountains on horses. So, since it's been a few weeks, the crew packed up (minus Jace) and hit the trail. We didn't tell Jace they were riding, and I don't feel badly for misleading him about "Daddy and Hayd doing yard work at Grandpa's."

From previous rides:





























Today, Jace ate more Chunky Chicken Noodle soup for lunch (his choice), and he and I both napped. Tonight as I reflect on our day, I am grateful that even though he didn't get to go riding, he was with me. Deep in the back of my mind I get fixated on an ugly number. As a mom experiencing some very emotional issues now, let me tell you how uncomfortable the words 90% curable are perceived. I can do the math. It's awesome. It's incredible-- but the reality is, 90% isn't enough. Another uncomfortable comment is, "He's going to make it-" because no matter how you say it, the implication is there is an alternative.

Jace continues to caress my neck and arms when I hold him. Today he started to occasionally motion for things instead of talk, because his jaw aches (we were told he would have bone aches). I'm praying for his continued strength to enjoy a few small things he loves so much, like pumping his new Nerf gun and shooting the male guests who come to see him, and of course squirting the syringes. Today he cried that he is finished with football for the year. With a confident, smiling face I assured him there will be football in his future, and I asked him to just focus on feeling well today. Six days down. We can do it.