Hey - I just noticed yesterday: Eli has teeth. My goodness, it makes a difference to one's appearance to have upper front teeth. They're implants. I'm so happy my parents could afford them and my mother followed through getting them for him.
So it's malignant. I'm thinking I'll tell the older kids pretty soon - they'll notice anyway - and wait a while for the younger ones because they're pretty clueless.
Blah. I'm making everyone a big pot o' fettucine to cheer them up, though. With children's garden tomatoes.
This development - the tumour, not the pasta - ought to keep my mother busy. She's constantly busy caretaking the entire family. Between Nanny, Eli & my dad, she's always running around looking after somebody. (which, when I'm feeling immature, pisses me off about when I'd just had the baby & could barely walk, let alone do the laundry, and she didn't have a minute to come take the other two off my hands - we have lived two blocks away for over three years and she took Naomi out exactly ONCE)
P.S. (when I'm more mature, which is ALL of the time, I acknowledge that they do so much for us every single day that it's really crummy to even think such things...)