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.

"What Matters Most"

"I believe that among the greatest lessons we're to learn in this short sojourn upon earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. And what is most important almost always involves the people around us. Often we assume that they must know how much we love them, but we should never assume. We should let them know."
President Thomas S. Monson (YouTube, Mormon Messages, What Matters Most).
http://www.youtube.com/user/mormonmessages?blend=1&ob=4

So, right now, I'm not going to assume you know. I'm going to tell you. The outpouring of love our family has received is beyond comprehension. Tonight I'd like to especially reach out to our Madison Bobcat family.

Tearfully Jace and I watched Matt and Hayden go to Madison's Homecoming Football game. We had to push Matt out the door, because he didn't know if he was ready to be in public, but we knew he had to support Hayden who has been going to these games since he was in the womb. What Matt and Hayden found within Bobcat Territory were hundreds of people cheering for our little boy. From the players having Iron Man Jace #33 written on their arms, to the crowd who beckoned him in, Matt was overcome with emotion and love for our friends, family, and town. He recalled as many details as he could to me, and from what I understand baskets were passed around for donations and fundraising tables were set up selling bracelets, stickers and Bobcat cards: all in Jace's name. Unbelievable.

It's pretty overwhelming you know. Like I said before, I'm not sure Matt and I deserve this outpouring. But we are being carried by your love, and we have to tell you how amazing it is to feel your strength and support.

Jace had a good day at home. He ate Popsicles with Grandpa, and he perfected his skill in squirting water off the front porch from the giant syringes the hospital sent home with him. Two uncles and Grandpa were drenched in the process, and I even had to get after Jace for being so lively. His bursts of energy are quite short lived though, as I noticed after every rambunctious few minutes, he would collapse to the comfort of the couch and the comfy blankets. Tonight he had a sad face the minute his brother and dad left.

"It stinks being sick, Mom," he said, as his heart broke that he wasn't going to the football game. Matt asked him if he'd rather Matt didn't go. Jace replied, "You should take Hayden." And so it was...we played Uno for an hour, I held him on the couch for two, and he restlessly drifted off to sleep. I watched my son breath in and out, wondering about the days to come. He cries when he thinks about losing his hair, and he cries when he thinks about going back to the hospital. My "tender mercy" tonight is thinking of a sea of red, white, and grey...and the love those colors represent on Homecoming night in our little town. Thank you for helping us remember What Matters Most. We love you all.