Hero-Heaven-Hix

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjE9CoH9avs
If you were at my fabulous shin dig on Saturday you would know the meaning of this blog title. My wonderful 6 year old got the liberty of announcing the basket raffle tickets, into the microphone, co-hosting with my Uncle Pat. (Who by the way was just the greatest MC to ever walk the face of the earth). Let me just say that there aren't enough words to express my gratitude of the magnitude of support, from all walks of my life, that came out for a great get together! Thank You. So as my son reads the ticket numbers with his sweet speech impediment (which is hard to say if you have one - Zach Galifianakis) I look at him and can not help but be overwhelmed with my love for this boy, my son.In the usual line up of questions about my Cancer, one of the first is always "How is your son handling this?" Which I might add was one of the most heart wrenching moments of finding out I have Cancer," What will I tell my son?" How do you explain something so big to someone so little? Of course opinions were given, whether I wanted them or not. I even heard there was a children's book on how to tell your child, but I knew my own stubborn self and I was going to do it my way. After much thought, once I got home from the hospital, I sat him down on the couch next to me. I told him that Mommy was sick, with a bug. That bug is called Cancer. I wanted to throw the word "Cancer" out there in case he heard a classmate say, "Oh my Aunt died of Cancer." I informed him that  there are lots of different kinds of Cancer, and Mommy has a good one. I told him how strong I was and that,"Mommy is gonna kick this bugs butt!" I have to thank God that he is only 6, just the perfect age to ask basic questions without needing complex answers. He asked,"Can I get it, the bug?" I said no... the bug only likes me. As most 6 year old would he said,"Why?" Because Mommy is just so sweet. The bug can not jump from me to you. There is nothing more priceless then watching the wheels in a child's brain turn. Who wouldn't pay to be able to hear those thoughts? Throughout the process I have tried to keep the line of communication open. He is definitely a hairstylist son because I swear he got more upset about me losing my hair than I did! There is nothing better then a child's honesty. If it were anyone else who said half the stuff he did I would cry, but for his dead truth questions....laugh was all I could do. The steroids give me acne, he says things like," Mom why do you have those little rocks on your face, or What are those red marks?" After I tell him its from my medicine he says, as he cups my face with his little hands,"Aww Mommy it will probably go away." Thanks Dude. My hair now looks like an old mans comb over, its sparse on top yet full around the sides and back. Just the sweetest look I've ever rocked. He still looks me in the eyes when he talks to me, like he genuinely doesn't care about what I look like. I'm his Mom, and he will always be my Blue Power Ranger.