Irrational Fears

For the most part, I consider myself a laid back mom. What will happen will happen and all I can do is trust God to take care of her. When Kairi was first born we were able to battle through nearly loosing her to starvation and multiple overheating cars in 105 degree weather. I even spent multiple hours in a strangers vehicle with the baby and my cat on the side of a highway. It was scary stuff. And now the rest doesn't seem so big and important.

Now, don't get me wrong, I still baby proofed. I watch food contents. I had my kids rear facing as long as I could (ie until Chris made me turn them around). I still watch them like a hawk when we're in unfamiliar territory. I take care of my kids. But I don't obsess over it. They can play in rooms by themselves, I just accept the fact that it's going to mean extra cleaning. If I have to leave for a second to grab a towel while they're bathing, I don't panic. They can play in the backyard w/ me inside (but always right next to the open door), as long as I can hear them and have checked the yard first for snakes and/or random objects the neighbors through over the fence during their last party.



I'm comfortable with all the things I listed above ... or else I wouldn't list them obviously. I completely and totally trust that God to take my children through the bumps, scratches, and occasional er visits. I know that my kids are going to be ok, and that they have to learn independent play. And I know that these things don't make me a bad mother. So I trust God, and for the most part just let it be.

But I have the absolute most irrational fear ever. Giving Alex peanut butter.

Kairi has an intolerance to peanuts. At least, she did. The first 2 times she touched a peanut shell she had hives come up where she had touched them to her face. That was 2 years ago. We have spent the last 2 years avoiding contact with peanuts. At her 2 year well-visit we discussed it with Dr Weiss. He agreed that if it was an allergy it was a mild one, but he wanted us to slowly (VERY slowly) introduce peanuts to her environment and eventually to her so that we would know the extent of her intolerance/allergy ... but to always do it when I could get her to an er quickly, just in case.

She tolerated all the introductions to peanuts well. I was allowing peanut products to stay in the house (and I even ate a few) while only requiring that Chris be sure he not give her anything without reading the label. Then when I was so sick 2 weeks ago, I suddenly found her shoving one of my cereal bars into her mouth that she had sneaked out of the pantry. Yes, they were "Almond" bars, but they have ground peanuts in them. I was in a panic. At which point Chris goes "Oh, I didn't know they had peanuts in them. I thought that it was only almond. I gave her one yesterday." First, I threw a fit because he didn't read the label. But then it hit me, she didn't react to it. She ate a peanut product and was ok. Now, I'm not giving her peanut butter yet. But slowly we're going to continue introducing her to peanut products ... not quite as slowly as before. And she's going to be ok. So it's official, it was an intolerance, not an allergy.

Then recently the recommended age for introducing peanut products changed. It was stated that most current research indicates that waiting longer periods of time to introduce peanuts and other likely allergens was NOT improving the child allergy stats so therefore they are not preventing allergies. And researchers in Britain have begun to develop therapies for children with severe allergies to peanuts which they're hoping to extend to other common food allergens where they slowly introduce children with extreme allergies to the they're allergic to until their bodies are capable of tolerating the allergen.

And finally, Alex has been exposed to, touched, and even ingested food with peanut products. He hasn't shown a single hint of an allergy or intolerance to peanuts.




So after all that's been said, will some one PLEASE tell me why in the world every time I think that I might make him a peanut butter sandwich to try I start to feel an overwhelming panic? I feel like my whole chest suddenly seizes up and I'm no longer able to think rationally. I can in no way make myself give him a peanut butter sandwich. I know that the chances of him having a reaction to them are less than 1%. I know that even if he does have a reaction I can call 911 and the ambulance will be here in less than 10 minutes (it took 4 when I had to call one for Chris).

I have NEVER experienced this kind of panic before. I didn't even panic this badly when Kairi was eating the cereal bar. Usually my panic happens AFTER an event. And it makes no sense. His doctor has even started encouraging me to let him have some peanut butter. But I can't get over this fear. Maybe I need Chris to make the sandwich for me and feed it to him when I'm not home..... But then I'll be in hysterics while I'm not home.




Ok, so that's my irrational parenting fear -- feeding my son that I already know isn't allergic to peanuts, peanut butter. What's yours? Please tell me that you have one and that I'm not alone in this stupid cycle......

It's Like Riding a Bicylce ... Right?

It's been so long since I blogged, that I've set here staring at the computer screen for the last several minutes trying to figure out what in the world I'm going to write about. I browsed through Twitter trying to remember the things I mini-blogged about, just in case one of those struck my interest. I looked at my profile on Facebook and realized that there were a few people that I forgot to reply to. I looked at my email and my phone for clues of things that have happened and been of import. But none of those helped me.

I almost wrote a blog about tv watching. Which would be an interesting one for sure.... But I just don't have it put together in my head yet.



So instead, can I just use this moment to gripe about living with uncertainties? In general, I'm a planner. I need to have specific times for events, specific plans for the day, schedules, time to prepare myself for future events, etc. Kairi's a lot like me in that, except with Kairi she has complete meltdowns if not given the proper preparations -- I just cry or shut down emotionally.

I had to come to rely on schedules when in elementary school. I have ADD, but instead of going through the process of being diagnosed and later medicated (which my parents did not want), my teacher believed that it was mild enough in me that she might be able to help me. And she DID help. Together, we forced me to become a planner. If I don't have a plan, nothing gets done. If I don't have specific goals, nothing is accomplished and I flounder for hours/days/years.

Parenting is hard for me because it's hard to plan. And then when I DO plan, I over-plan and then have way too much scheduled. Finding that balance is hard for me. I need to have a loose schedule.

Beyond that, though, I need to have an idea what tomorrow, the next week, the next few months will hold for me and my family. I need to have a schedule of when people are going to be here and when they're going to leave. I need time to prepare, whether that's physically prepare, or mentally, or emotionally. Give me that time to prepare.

So when the Navy tells us one day that Chris isn't leaving again until September. Then changes it's mind and says, no he's leaving tomorrow for 3 weeks. And then postpones that 3 week period everyday saying "not until tomorrow" ... Can you imagine how frustrating that can be for me?

I spent the first 2 days of "he's leaving tomorrow" crying. Mainly because I hadn't had time to prepare myself for him to leave. But also because when they're in the military, you can't help but worry when your spouse has to leave within 24 hours.

By day 3, I stopped crying over it, and felt like it'd be better if it just happened. I had prepared myself for him to leave. I planned my meals around him not being home. I planned my next few weeks around him not being around. Suddenly he WAS going to be home, and I wasn't sure how to handle it anymore.

Now we're playing the 24 hour on-call game. If he gets a call from the ship, he leaves within 24 hours. If he doesn't get a call from the ship, things like duty and normal work days continue.

So that leaves me with the question. What in the world do I do about Kairi's birthday party?

No matter what, the day OF her birthday he's not going to be home. He either has duty that day, or will be out to sea. Either way, no party that day. So we were going to have her party on the 8th. A friend of Chris' is making our cake. It's a pirate themed party. Then when we were first told that he was leaving for 3 weeks, we changed our minds and started planning for the 15th. Except, now if he leaves, he'll be gone then too.

What in the world do I do?!?

I can prepare myself emotionally for him to leave. I am prepared. The morning he leaves I'll cry for about 5 minutes by myself in my bedroom, then I'll hear Alex call for me, I'll stop crying and face the day. I'll be happy and content knowing that whatever happens, my children love me and need me. And we'll probably go to the park that day to make it pass faster.

I can prepare myself mentally for him to leave knowing that I have plans in place for activities while he's gone. We certainly won't be sitting around the house all day.

I AM prepared physically for him to leave -- all the things he'd need are washed and ready for him to take. He has all the other things he'll want to take with him (books, video games, etc) ready. I even have most of our grocery shopping done so that I don't have to run to the store with both kids very often while he's gone. Shoot, I've even pilfered the credit card from his wallet so that if there is an emergency, I have it.


But this party thing ... I feel at a loss to prepare for. And it's important because this is the first year she's KNOWN that she has a birthday and that that means a party. This is the first year that she's picked out her party theme. This is the first year that Chris has helped me plan the party.

So I'm floundering again. I'm avoiding planning in hopes that everything clears up all on it's own -- the sooner the better. I'm pretending that she doesn't turn 3 in ONE WEEK. And I'm avoiding phone calls from family that discuss what to get her for her birthday so that I don't have to think about it.

A Small Break in Your Regularly Scheduled Programming

Yes, I'm on a "break" from blogging, but not because I want to be. See, sitting up for more than a half hour at a time or so sends me into a massive asthma attack.

One week ago Saturday, I went to an urgent care center because the base clinic couldn't get me in. I had bronchitis and probably strep. Bronchitis was causing my asthma. So I was given a new inhaler, prednisone, and a Z-pack. Sunday morning I woke up feeling better than I had in a week. We went to church. Came home, had a great time. Monday I wasn't feeling any better, but not really worse either. By Tuesday, though, I was worse than I'd been on Saturday. My throat felt like it was swollen closed. I had absolutely no voice. When I called and asked for an appointment on base, I had to shout to be heard, and even then ended up repeating myself multiple times. I couldn't take a breath without coughing. They worked me into the schedule.

Unfortunately, that meant seeing Dr Evil. Ok, so she's not evil, but I still hate her. I hate every time I have to see her. It's not that she's not a good doctor, because she is; it's that she HATES children. And treats me like crap for bringing them with me.

After a small confrontation where Dr Evil wanted me to put the kids in day care for a few days so that I could get some rest, I left the office with another inhaler, new antibiotics, and having had a nebulizer treatment. I got home and Chris called shortly thereafter. He'd been with the ship in Virginia and just happened to have time to call me. I told him about Dr Evil wanting me to be on bedrest. He listened to me cough. He said that he was going to see if he could come home. It was a frustrating (for me because I didn't know what all was going on) process but he did eventually get a flight home the next day.

So Chris has been home since Wednesday evening. It has been heavenly. Ok, so maybe that's a stretch, but it's been great. For the most part I've stayed in bed trying to relax and rest. He's kept the kids from killing each other and breaking things. Now, my house could be declared a disaster zone and the moment I can breathe deeply without coughing I'm declaring it to be a state of emergency in order to get this place clean. But at least he's here. And I can rest. And he's here until Thursday, because he's on leave for a while. :) So maybe once I'm better we'll be able to take the kids to the beach and a couple other (free) places.

And I AM getting better. Two days ago there would have been no way for me to sit up this long and type this out. It would have given me a headache from lack of oxygen.


We'll return to regularly scheduled programming in a few days.

A Knock at My Door

The kids and I were gathered around the table eating a nice calm dinner and thoroughly enjoying each others' company when suddenly there was a banging on the front door, shattering the peace in the house.

Ok, ok.

So we weren't gathered around the table. We were plopped in the living room watching another episode of Pinky Dinky Doo or some such nonsense. Kairi was sitting in the middle of the floor crying because I refused to let her eat french fries until she ate the hot dog she asked for. Alex was frustrated because his straw poked a hole through his Sonic cup, so I was trying to pour his drink into a sippy as fast as I could while holding the phone between my shoulder and head, trying not to cough into my mother-in-law's ear but still keep the conversation going. And in my head the mantra "early bedtime early bedtime early bedtime" played on repeat.

When the front door began to shake from the pounding it received on the other end, it didn't shatter our peace. If anything, it made the house as close to silent as it had been since naptime ended 4 hours earlier. The only sound was now Pinky Dinky Doo's song ... a mere murmur in the background.

I put the phone down. Gave the sippy to Alex. And walked to the front door. I chained it before opening it up -- thankful the moment I had the door cracked open that I had thought of the chain.

Standing on the other side of my door, he was furious. I could see the vibrations of his anger roll off of his body. Fists, covered in black leather motorcycle gloves with silver studs, were balled up at his sides and were the very first things I noticed. Clad in all leather riding gear, leather riding boots, and a pair of sunglasses, his bare arms underneath his leather vest displayed large toned muscles, and were again flexed as if he was trying to keep his anger under control. His legs were planted shoulder length apart as if to say that nothing would move him from his task. I had no idea who this man was, or what he wanted, but I knew he was mad, and I knew that he meant business.

I raised my eyebrows, determined to stay calm, "Yes?"
"I need to talk to Michael. NOW."
"Michael?" I was bewildered. The only Michael I know lives in Texas, and is my dad. I couldn't imagine someone coming to MY house looking for him. Not when I'm in Florida.
"Yes. MICHAEL. Is he home?"
"No sir. He's not home because he doesn't live here."
"Where is he?"
"Umm...I don't know. I don't know a Michael. At least not one that you would be looking for. The only one I know is over 1000 miles away in Texas, and is my father."
"So what you're telling me is that a Michael Harmon doesn't live here? What you're telling me is that you don't know Michael Harmon at all?"
"Yes sir. That's what I'm saying."
At this point Kairi pushed between me and the door to see who was there. When he looked at her, the anger melted from his body. He smiled at her and then smiled at me.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but only my husband, Christopher, and I live here with our children. There's no one else here."
And then it hit me. Michael Harmon. I get his mail all the time. Michael Harmon. I think that he's the guy that there was a notice for on the door of the house when I first moved in from the local credit union. I think that he was in a lot of trouble with them at the time.

The man, whose name I never caught so we'll call Mr Bike, and I began to chat. Michael had backed over Mr Bike while he was on his motorcycle in the Walmart parking lot. Michael had traded information Mr Bike, including insurance info, driver's license numbers, and addresses, and had gotten Mr Bike to agree to not contact the insurance company unless it was absolutely necessary. But then Michael did not return Mr Bike's phone calls. Michael started trying to dodge having to pay for bike repairs and medical bills. Mr Bike isn't putting up with it.

So today, Michael Harmon, whoever you are, Mr Bike is calling your insurance company. Mr Bike is also calling the DMV and Sheriff's office to report that you have an address on your license has been wrong for at LEAST 14 months, but probably longer. And when you get into trouble, Michael Harmon, I won't feel badly for you. I watched Mr Bike limp away from my house, barely able to crawl up onto his bike that's beaten up on just one side, and then drive away. And it hit me, that one day that might be MY Mr Bike (aka Chris) that you run over. When that happens, you'll have to face ME. And it also hit me, that if you end up getting into trouble, and a warrant goes out for your arrest, that it is MY house that JSO is going to be searching first, and THAT my friend, won't fly.

Kairi's Biggest Fan

I have always heard that Mamas are always their child's biggest fan. They will never give up on them or grow tired of watching their children do something they love. They will cheer their kids on through all obstacles, never giving up on them, never growing tired of the act, and always loving them unconditionally.

Ok, so let's be honest here. I am NOT my daughter's biggest fan. I mean, in a sense I am. I will be all those things listed above, except for the "never growing tired of the act". See, I DO grow tired of watching Kairi's performance from time to time. That sounds terrible. Let me explain.

She stands on the hearth singing her heart out for hours on end. And I love it. Except, when I've heard Twinkle Twinkle for the 162nd time in the last hour, I really don't feel like cheering and clapping as loudly as I did the first 161 times.




But I don't feel as badly about that anymore. Because she DOES have a fan that will cheer as loudly the 162nd time as the 1st.

Her biggest fan is Alex. And when I'm more interested in the Bubble Burst game on my phone than cheering again, Alex will sit on the couch watching her dance and sing, and then he will clap and "woohoo!" for her as loudly as he did the last time. Then he will turn to me and tell me "Nonny! Cap Niree! WooHoo!" (Translated: Mommy! Clap for Kairi! WooHoo!)

He always cheers for her, believes in her, supports her, and will even feed her bites of pizza when she's feeling like too much of a diva to feed herself. (Yes, tonight she told him to feed her her pizza b/c it was too yucky for her to touch, and he obliged.)

He follows her around, mimics her, loves on her, and picks on her. Nothing makes either one happier than their sibling. They even have their own language.



In the following pictures, my kids have dirty faces, and dirty clothes. They had just eaten their pizza and neither do a good job at wiping their own faces. I usually put up with their bad job (because at least they tried!) until either we leave or it's bedtime.

Either way ... here's proof of their love for each other:

I've Tried

I've tried and tried and tried for the last few days to write something interesting for you. I've tried and tried to talk about what's going on in our lives. And I probably have about 4 blogs half written and saved ... but I can't go back and finish them. I don't know why, but I just can't.

Instead I'm going to summarize the last few days and then see where my mind goes from there:


Saturday Alex woke up with a cold. I didn't give it much thought other than to be annoyed that he had a cold in freaking July and to re-raise one side of his bed. Then Sunday night he threw up and started running a 102 fever. We took a bath together, gave him some tylenol, and neither of us slept most of the night. But the fever did go down and he stopped vomiting.

Chris had yesterday off, thank God. After Alex's nap he woke up really hot. I gave him some motrin, but he just got hotter and hotter. I finally forced him to let me take his temp again. 105.4! Chris immediately started drawing bath water again. We jumped in it fully clothed. He got Kairi dressed and a diaper bag packed. And as soon as he had everything ready, Alex and I got out of the tub and into the truck. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. He could barely stay conscious on the way to the hospital. I told Kairi to keep Alex awake if she could .... and she tried so hard. Finally she looked at him and goes "What wrong wit you? Talka me Alex! Talka me! I love you." :( That broke my heart and made me love her so very much.


They gave him a tylenol suppository. A lady from church showed up and took Kairi to her house where Kairi stayed most of the night playing with her and her husband. They are such a great couple ... both kids adore them.

At the hospital, they did discuss the possibility of keeping Alex overnight because we couldn't get him to pee. But we put a diaper on him finally (over the thing they were trying to catch his pee with) and the moment the diaper went on he peed -- he was just holding it!

Oh, and I pissed the dr off b/c I refused Amoxicillin. The last time he took it he vomited and had diarrhea for the next 2 days, I'm not putting him through that when he already has pneumonia! Instead, he's been given Zithromax.

So we're home. Alex slept through the night fairly well, only waking up a few times to ask for something to drink. Chris has to work today, but thinks that since Alex is sick that he'll be able to talk them into letting him off early to come home and help out. Especially since he has duty tomorrow night and then leaves again Friday.


Alex is going to be alright. We're watching him pretty closely. Trying to keep him calm and still, and of course hydrated. We have a follow-up tomorrow to make sure that he is getting better.




So let's hope that this isn't a tradition in the making....last year for my birthday Kairi threw up the whole day. The year before that I had a cold and was giant pregnant so overall miserable. This year Alex has pneumonia. I'm praying that next year it isn't Chris' turn. Otherwise, I'm going to start banning birthdays. ;)



Eta: Crap! Now K's nose is running just as badly as Alex's was on Saturday -- one sick kid is enough, I don't want 2!

A glimpse into my house

GAH!

I have so much in my life to be thankful for. A great family. An amazing church. Supportive friends. A few extras that I am truly grateful for.

So why in the world must things be soooo tight all the freaking time?!? We were getting on our feet, acquired a second vehicle for just what we could afford, switched up internet/tv to save a couple extra bucks plus have better service, still had a little bit left over each month to treat each other to one nice thing.

Then summer hit.

My electric bill has doubled, and is on it's way to tripling.

My water bill has already tripled.

My phone rate was raised when I renewed my contract.

I had to see an optometrist yesterday. Cost me an extra $60 more than we had budgeted.

Pediatrician's office is changing payment policies, and soon the kids won't be able to see a dr unless I pay off the acct balance.

I need, desperately need, to see a dentist.



How in the world am I supposed to be able to handle all of this? This can't keep going. It just can't. The numbers don't add up, on paper, and especially not in my bank acct. So I'm looking for a job. Problem is, it has to not take away from my time w/ the kids, and not make my FM worse. I wish there was a Hastings here that I could work from like 7-11 at, and would be flexible with my husband's schedule. I'd be on my feet, but at least it was an enjoyable job (for the most part) and it'd keep me active. A little extra money, plus adult interaction. That would definitely work for me. My ideas so far have been Barnes and Noble and Jo-ann's. Any others?

Arg ... I just don't know. Wish me luck in finding something that works for me and my family.