I forgot to post these photos from Nora’s fundraiser the other night. Lewis and Oscar, Evva’s little brother, are turning into friends. It’s fun to witness. They actually play together instead of near each other. And, as seen below, they even hold hands and dance together.

Jen and Nora.

Last Sunday all six of us schlepped down to Hell’s Kitchen in downtown Minneapolis to celebrate the short (and eventually long) life of Nora Boss. She’s the 2-year-old daughter of our friends Jen and Andy Boss (that’s Jen, the Ms. Jen of Willow, our kids’ longtime preschool). Nora has Wilms disease, a rare childhood cancer which affects the kidneys (there’s a 90% survival rate). She’s had multiple surgeries (another was today in fact). Jen posted this on Facebook earlier:

“Dr. David Vandersteen is amazing. He got those tumors out. Reconstructed the right kidney and saved 50% of the kidney. Nora was awake for a little bit and is now enjoying her epidural cocktail…sleeping and comfortable. Thank you for all your prayers and thoughts.”

Jen and Andy’s neighbor put together the big fundraiser for them at Hells Kitchen (I’m sorry I didn’t post about it before it happened). Andy also made a entirely moving plea for help on YouTube and posted it on a little blog they’ve made to update folks about Nora. If you’d like to write Andy or Jen a note of support, even if you don’t know them, I’m sure they’d appreciate it (they’re contact is linked from the Fox9 story below). They’re also gathering donations to help defray the cost of health care. They have insurance for Nora, but not after a shameful $30,000 deductible. I think it’s horrible we live in a country that would require someone to spend $30,000 of their own money to help their child who has cancer. That’s the last thing they need to think about. We oughta all be paying real high taxes and have completely free health care.

Anyway, the Boss’s were profiled on Fox9 before and after the benefit if you want to hear and read more about their story (or learn how to make a donation). It’s an privilege to know and be a part of the Boss’s lives. Jess and I many times have talked about how lucky we are that our kids have been able to grow up in Jen’s basement under her wings. As Jess wrote in a comment on Facebook about the big fundraiser, “That night was a result of a life lived from a place of generosity and peace. That’s how I see you, Jen. You live your life with generosity, peace and openness and it makes people crowd for a chance to give and help out.”

Bridget with Nora.

    This morning I lost my cool and I feel bad. I'm sharing here in the hopes that full disclosure might make me feel better and also because I want this blog to be honest. Everything isn't as beautiful and happy as all our lovely photos would suggest!
    I was taking Art to school, we were running a little late. I unlocked the car, got in my side, Art his. He was having trouble closing his door with his big poofy gloves. In fact, it didn't look like he was really trying.
    "Close the door, Arthur," I quipped.
    "I caaaaaan't," he said in a horribly whiny voice as he pawed the door in vain. "I can't do it, Papa!"
    Parenting is like addition, things add up. Lewis is going through a hitting phase, his little doughy arm cocks back at the slightest infraction. And then Arthur screams for his life and Lewis delights in his new found power. And Jess and I are left feeling a little helpless as we try to sooth crying and hungry babies. And our house is messy, Jessica and I miss each other, we miss Bubbe, Emmit (Bubbe's cat) is unadoptable and a pain in the ass. So sometimes life in our house seems out of control, untameable, overwhelming.
    As Art whined and pawed helplessly at his door with his fat gloves I yelled, "Close the door!"
    "I caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't!"
    "Close the doooooooooooooooor!!!" I yelled even louder.
    It was an ugly parenting moment. I knew it, Art knew it. He started crying and said I was really sorry that I had lost my cool. I sighed and we both sat there a minute, door ajar. Then, calmly, we 'practiced' the situation again. He said he couldn't close his door, I reached over and helped him. "Was that better, Art?"
"Yeah," he said pleadingly, as if that's all he wanted in the first place. I reached back and wiped off a tear his face and felt real bad. What a dumb thing to do, to yell at a kid and scare him. Sorry, Art.

I had the good fortune recently to photograph the wedding of our friends Marti and Jeff and wanted to share some of the photos on the blog. Their obvious love for each other made for especially nice photos. I put in one below of Jessica smiling for a photo with her friend (and Si’s mama) Laurel. And that’s Ms. Jen, Lewis’ preschool teacher an the bottom in blue. Here are a few more photos from their wedding on Facebook.

My mother came to visit last week and planned a 10 day stay. It was cut short after she got a call that the health of my grandma, her mother, had taken a turn for the worse. Not entirely unexpected but certainly a bummer. So she stayed only a few days and drove off to Indiana (you can do that when you’re retired, just drive around the country whenever and wherever you like).

Mama was testing a new hat she just brought home from Savers. we love it. And the babies can’t rip it off the moment you put it on.

My mother loves our kids in a way that only a grandma can. She’ll do anything for them and us and it’s a good feeling. And of course she ALWAYS cries a bit when she leaves. It’s inevitable and wonderful and sad. I have a feeling she’ll hate this photo but there it is, my mother feeling sad as she gets ready to leave. I don’t mean to diminish what she goes through, though. It’s a tough thing to come into our lives and feel all that love and chaos and connections and then have to leave.

My grandmother is a firecracker, a fun old lady who gives wonderful back tickles and someone I love dearly. A great Great Grandmother, too. Here she is a few months ago when we visited her in Indiana. We’ll all be thinking of her over the next few weeks.