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People ask me all the time how my kids are handling everything…and I never quite know how to answer them. I don’t even know the answer to that question about myself. To be quite honest, that has been one of the hardest parts of this whole thing—watching my kids struggle with my illness.

How do I know they struggle? For the last few months, my son Brandon has been frightened to go anywhere alone. He won’t go up the stairs without someone with him. For a while this frustrated me, until I realized that it is just his little six-year-old way of getting comfort in a really difficult time. Granted, he is my baby and I probably gave in to him more than I should have even before this happened, but it breaks my heart to watch him cling to me. Last night, with Hal away on a short trip promoting the book, Brandon couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stay awake. So, at 9 o’clock, I let him crawl into bed with me. He tossed and turned and then he finally turned to me with his precious little freckled face and said, “Momma, I’m really sorry, but I would feel so much braver and sleepier if you would just put your arms around me while I go to sleep.”

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I want to remember that moment forever. It put everything into perspective and made me want to hug away all the stress and confusion that my family has gone through this summer. Parenting well through all of this (the ScreamFree way) has been extremely difficult. It takes a tremendous amount of energy not to lash out when I’m tired and they are acting, well…like kids act. It’s a tough line to toe. I don’t want to let anything go just because I’m sick; that would only make things worse. My kids crave boundaries and structure like nobody’s business. School has been a life-saver for us all. But there is also room for understanding and that’s where it gets tough.

Hannah is now 8 (and a half, she’d say) and is handling things in her own way. At first, she retreated into books, computer and TV…anything to be alone. We gave her some space and then put limits on her alone time to bring her out a bit. Boy, did she ever resist. For a while, she reverted back in maturity a couple of years with tantrums and crying. Since school started, she has turned a new leaf. I think the key with her is just spending any kind of time with her. She completely opens up; it is beautiful.

Yesterday, Brandon was at Ben Hemby’s house (again…thank you Hembys from the bottom of my tired heart) and Hannah and I sat together on the couch. We talked and I helped her study for her first big test. We drew together and giggled. The TV was off and the stereo was on instead. She was glowing. She is much more able than Brandon to put words to her feelings; of course, that just comes with age. She’ll do the funniest things that let me know she’s thinking of my illness. The other day, at the dinner table, she just started singing, “Cancer, cancer, cancer…”. I looked at her and she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

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I know that ultimately they will be ok and so will Hal and I. Kids are incredibly resilient, “bouncy”, when it comes to things like this. Hal tells me from his therapy practice that kids can survive anything, as long as they can talk about it. And that’s what we’re striving for—we just want to keep them talking. But it is hard when I think about what they have to deal with. The uncertainty, the changes in our household, the constant stream of family here to help (don’t get me wrong – we can’t do without it, but it is different and at times, difficult), the questions they must have about me, themselves, and their own health.

I get angry when I think about how cancer has stolen some of their innocence. I hate that they must be worried about me. I cringe (and smile) when Brandon asks me how my cancer feels today. I know that if Hal and I handle things as I know we can, this could all be a tremendous growth experience. But growing really hurts sometimes.

But all of you already know that.