Defending The Donut Wall

It was Lachlan’s birthday this week and despite my protestations, the Tweddle Donut Wall was ignored in favor of a cake. I’m not going to lie, I was pretty disappointed.

I mean, who doesn’t love a donut wall? It’s simultaneously delicious and ridiculous. It says “Have a donut from this marvelous display.” Hand on heart, I can honestly say, donut walls never fail to make me happy and I can’t even eat the bloody donuts.

And we’ve used it for Lachlan’s birthday every year since he turned 11.

His 10th birthday party was a fairly crazy affair. Cancer was a nagging doubt in the back of my mind. I knew there had been something found in the mammogram, but I was waiting for the biopsy and decided to distract myself with an awesome birthday party. He had a cupcake tower, and a bouncy water slide, and a petting zoo which consisted of a snake or two and some bored-looking rabbits.

Lachlan has always loved animals, and more than anything, he wanted a dog. Mark and I weren’t against it, but we didn’t know what the score was going to be with my health, so we persuaded him to wait.

Not for your birthday, but maybe for Christmas…. ?

After the diagnosis, I’d told his teenage brother as practically as I could. Though he was really upset, I said that if he could promise me he would handle his homework, I would promise him I would handle the cancer. We had a brief stoic handshake and a long tearful cuddle, and then we moved on.

But I couldn’t work out how to tell Lachlan. He was too young to be dealing with any of this. He still cuddled with his toy from toddler days (called Neil The Seal) when he slept and insisted I say goodnight to both of them when I tucked him in.

Then one day, we were all hanging out as a family, laughing about Mark’s so called adoration of Home Depot. When we laugh together, everything seems possible. I said to the family I had an announcement.
I said that I felt I should say sorry because I thought I’d been crankier than usual of late. I explained it was because I was not very well and that I’d have to go to hospital.
But after hospital, I’d come home again and I’d be fine.
And my 10 year old cheered, because all he heard was that I was going to be fine.
He couldn’t have given me a better gift.

My first surgery was plain sailing. Nobody liked it, but we handled it. I was sick and I got better. Homework was handed out and mostly it got done. And maybe by Christmas, we’d get a dog.

The second surgery in December was much tougher. When the infection hit, everything was pretty scary. I will never forget the look on the face of the little 10 year old man who stood by my bedside, half raging, half sobbing, “You are not to do this again, you understand. No more hospitals. No more surgery. We are all meant to be having Christmas. Promise me you will not to do this again!” before crumpling into a tearful snuggle.

By February I was better. The whole “Mom’s not well” topic of conversation had pretty much disappeared, apart from when the subject of getting a dog came up. Mark suggested that it would be best if we waited until mom was fully back to health again. And I said nothing, knowing that the third surgery was a given.

When I got the date, I sat down with my eldest. He was anxious, but he understood.
With Lachlan, I was scared. I had made him a promise that I’d known I couldn’t keep.

But one night we were taking selfies together on his phone with Neil The Seal. We were both howling with laughter at how Neil The Seal looked terrified and adorable in all the pictures. And nothing – nothing in the world – feels so brilliant as sharing a really good hearty laugh with a 10-year-old kid.

So I took a breath and told him - that I had to break my promise and have one more surgery. He looked at me, saying nothing, his face holding a very similar expression to Neil The Seal. I promised that it honestly wouldn’t be as bad as the last one.

He shook his head. Then he sighed heavily. Then said, “I am just never going to get a dog, am I?” in a way that made us both howl again with laughter.

The surgery went fine and 10 days before his 11th birthday, we adopted Arthur, a 2-year-old terrier mix of dubious heritage from the East Valley Rescue. Lachlan loved Arthur from the moment he set eyes on him.

And he planned his own 11th birthday party. He decided on a very specific group of guests – both kids and adults that he likes. We had a bouncy water slide, and a trampoline (for dry bouncing), a motorized car, and a little soccer area. He ordered pizza from his favorite pizza place and of course in the centre of it all, the donut wall.

This year is different. This year we’ll have cake. This year donut wall is relegated to the back of the cupboard. Lachlan is no longer little. He is 16 years old and he completely knows his own mind. Neil The Seal still has a place in his bedroom, but now you’ll find him on a shelf rather than cuddled up by the pillow. And I am healthy, and have no surgeries at all planned.

I asked him what he wanted for his birthday. I suggested maybe a bouncy slide or water balloons or a games party or a movie day. He thought it over for a while and then responded “Nah.” He wanted cake and take out pizza from the local Italian place and just us and Arthur. “Let’s make it chill. Who you love is everything. The rest is just frosting.”

True. Still, who doesn’t love a big donut wall?

Till next week. xo

Hi there

I don’t take a lot of pictures - I keep meaning to, and get totally distracted by what is