Telling the Triple Threat

On the Sunday after I was diagnosed, we were driving into church when Levi, 6, made the comment "Yea, and then you get cancer and then you die!" out of the blue.  Clay and I looked at each other like "Where the hell did that come from?  Except we didn't think "hell,"  because well, we were going to church.  After we carted them off to Sunday School, we went to McDonalds for breakfast.  We couldn't go to a fancy sit down Denny's breakfast because we were 15 minutes late to Sunday school, so gourmet Denny's breakfast would have cut into our time budget.  We had to be back in time for Lutheran late service.

While dining non al fresco at Mickey D's, we decided that it was time to tell the triple threat, our blessings ages 5,6,and 7.  Especially since they were in their booster seats minutes ago discussing cancer and dying.  Not sure where that came from, but they obviously had picked up on something from someone somewhere.  We polished off our value meals and headed back to church.

Of course as soon as we picked them up, Levi started crying that he didn't want to go to church.  Because it was too long and too boring.  And then the other two started whining about it being too boring.  So I did something I swore I would never do.  I told them they could play Minecraft on our phones during church.  I knew my brother, Kurt, had put in a prayer request for me--and I didn't want to be in the bathroom with one or more members of the Triple Threat when it was my time to shine!  And by shine I mean when they prayed for me.  (I know, there is something the matter with me.  But I needed big prayers and wanted to be there to pray along with the others!)  40 percent of church time is now spent walking my kids to the bathroom because they have an "emergency."  The other 59 percent is spent telling them that there is just "a little bit longer" and bribing them with offering money to put in the collection plate.  They are still young enough that this is a huge deal and get in massive fights if they each don't get a "money."  The other one percent is spent actually being able to listen.  And that is when the Klausing kids are up front for the children's message.

So the whole Minecraft thing is worked out beautifully.  Kate and Levi are completely engulfed in building their block houses or whatever they do.  But here is the problem with three kids.  I only had two phones.  So I had to do something a devout Lutheran hopes to never do.  I had to turn around and look back at Kurt and Tia.  (Life long Lutherans know that you don't ever turn around during church.  Ever.) The shame.  But I was desperate.  I needed another phone and the prayers were coming up.  Aunt Tia graciously gave up her phone and her password so that I could install the Barbie Fashion Make Over app for Caroline.

And as I was installing the "bride Barbie" to get a makeover I hear the pastor say my name.  Actually I hear "Sister of our member, Kurt" and then my name.  And I got my feathers ruffled a little, because it sounded like Kurt was the member, and I was just a pagan non-member that needed prayers.  But that is another story for another day.  You see, Kurt and I have "confirmation class competitions" during service.  Like who can recite the Nicene Creed the best without looking at the hymnal.  Or who can sing "This is the Feast" through memory.  And usually I win.  And this whole praying for me like I wasn't a member made me feel like Kurt had more ammunition in our semi-friendly catechism war.

Naturally the kids heard my name, even through their Minecraft trance, and were all "Mom!  MOM!  they said your name!  Why did they say your name?!"  And I had a very honest response.  I said "Be quiet!  We're praying!" Because I didn't really know what to say.  I guess we didn't really think this whole thing through. And they went back to Minecraft and Barbie Makeover.

We went over to Kurt and Tia's house to change clothes after church because we were going to Clay's company picnic.  It was there that we told them.  We gathered them around and said that pretty soon Mommy was going to be sick and that I was going to be bald and it was going to be really silly.  They thought it was hilarious that I was going to be bald, but didn't really have any questions.  They wanted to get back to running around the house and otherwise terrorizing each other.  We asked them if they had any questions.  Nope. Not really.  So we just left it at that.  I knew the questions would come later.

I was getting all of my hair cut off the next day.  So my dear friend Miranda Lawson, who always takes our awesome pics, graciously offered to do them for me last second. For free.  Because she is a great friend.  And by graciously offer to take them I actually mean she watched my girls, did their hair, painted their nails, and took them to the park while I rested at home.  I hadn't had a break in days, and I was emotionally exhausted.  I didn't know how tired I was until all of my kids were out of the house that afternoon.  Clay had taken Levi to the Newman casa to ride dirt bikes, and we were originally going to take the photos downtown.  But I knew there was no way I was going to get Levi off a dirt bike to go take pictures.  So the setting of this shoot was at Casa De Newman.

After we were finished and on our way home are when the questions started.  "Mom are you sick right now? Mom are you going to barf?  How long will you be sick?"  These questions came from the Levi and Caroline.  Kate really didn't ask any, and she seems to have matured years in the past 2 weeks.  It makes me part sad, part proud, part I don't know what.  I know that 1st graders, and Kindergartners, and preschoolers shouldn't have to deal with this.