M just sat with me for over an hour listening to chapter after chapter of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Forty-eight straight pages.
After every chapter or two, I'd ask if he wanted to be done or keep going, and he just kept begging me to keep reading. We read straight up to bedtime. Charlie's found the money in the gutter, and M just knows he's going to find a ticket.
L split his lip at the playground yesterday and got his hand trampled by a kid climbing up the slide, and even though he got close, he didn't have a seizure either time. We can never be sure which events will trigger seizures, but either of those could have done it.
But we have come a long way. This time last year, L had been diagnosed a little over a month and was having seizures constantly. We had no idea what to do and hadn't even found a decent doctor.
And as if that wasn't stressful enough, we had to rush M to the emergency room TWICE last January. We had no choice but to be helicopter parents, because we literally could not let him out of our sight for even a minute. He had no friends, and even though our family and friends loved him, I felt like we couldn't take the boys anywhere. We were at our wit's end.