Even though I want to enjoy these days, every step feels like sadness.

Well, Benadryl works, doesn't it? I had no idea. Sam was up at 12:45 this morning, and 1:45, and then I dosed him with Benadryl. In spite of the dog's incessant whining at 4:30, and the din of an enormous truck BACKING UP down the street at 5:30, he slept until a little after 6.

We had a nice morning with more visitors than we expected, and then he got really sleepy around mid-day and it just made me feel so sad. Helping him walk makes me sad. Helping him down into his chair and up from his chair makes me sad. Lifting him into bed and out of bed makes me sad. 

I want to be happy that he's here. He's awake. He communicates (yes, it's a whisper, but still he can communicate). He uses the toilet. He eats. He drinks. He says I love you. He gives hugs. He is not in pain. So many things to appreciate.

As for the teens, we are sorting them out. I discussed my concerns with their counselor, and with the help of my cousin, who happens to teach English at the same high school, we will get them the support and time with Sam they need. However they choose-they can come in late, leave early, get

more time for homework, skip practice, and they can even hang out in Mr. Anderson's office in the middle of the day if they just need to have a moment.

The sibs at CHLA in December 2012