Feeling Farts: It has to come out somewhere
The past two weeks have been a little crazy for our family. My five year old got a terrible break in his arm that involved him getting emergency surgery at the hospital. It was a really frightening 10 minutes at the park waiting for my husband to get there and pick us up to run us to the emergency room. Yes, I knew it was broken right away. I won't post a picture of that, but trust me when I say there was no doubt in my mind. Surgery, a night in the hospital and two casts later and he is on the road to recovery, which hopefully will be a full one.
About 10 days later I got a call from daycare that little man ( 18 months old) drank milk at school (he's allergic to dairy), had a reaction, was given an EpiPen and an ambulance had been called. He is also ok after a crazy rush to the hospital, some steroids, five packets of saltines and some "Bubble Guppies" on TV.
So what remains are two nervous parents, an emotional five year old and a one year old competing for attention by dragging books around saying "weedit". We had a tough two weeks! I've been through worse, but this shook me. The five year old is really having a hard time adjusting to this new situation. I think he was actually mad at me for a few days. Maybe for taking him to the park? Or for not being able to "fix" it faster? I wish I could have fixed it for him! Special thanks to the dummies who asked/commented (in front of him) "Was it a dangerous park?" "Do you think he's not getting enough iron?" and, my personal favorite "Well, I guess you can't pay attention all the time."
After our trip to the emergency room for anaphylaxis with little man, my husband went to get a snack alone for a minute. He texted that he needed some time before coming back up and that: "Need a tiny break. I think I'm stressed about kids getting sick/hurt so much!". Um.... yeah. It's this terrible terrible realization that you can do everything to keep your kids safe, and they can still get hurt. We spend significant portions of our paycheck to send our children to what we know is a great daycare because we value their safety/learning and well being. And he still drank milk there, despite their best efforts. We greatly overpay for rent/coffee/sandwiches in our neighborhood because the parks are safe, the neighbors are really nice and there is a community here. Yet my son got hurt at one of those "really nice" parks. So where is safety found? Our wonderful pediatrician has told us that this is parenting- being worried about someone that you can't control. So I did an excellent job this week about worrying about every possible thing that might happen to them. I dreamt about it, I replayed his fall at the park a hundred times, I imagined what could have happened if the school didn't have little man's Epipen ready to go. Can you tell I'm tired?
To really cap off how unpredictable things are, on Friday morning I was lucky enough to have the morning to just stay home, relax and work from my kitchen table. I made my coffee drink (it's mostly sugar, chocolate and soy milk, with a splash of coffee) and sat down to crank out some reports. And then Mom's building's nurse called to say that her aide was late, Mom had wandered out in her pajamas and was extremely angry. I answered the phone with trepidation and didn't even want to respond to her. I usually have some sort of adrenaline response when something is wrong- my body kicks in with energy to help me deal with it. But this time- nothing. I just hung up and texted my sister to please help, which she so gratefully did, even while taking care of her own two children. I had to make a list after these two weeks of what I am so thankful for and she is at the top of that list. I talk about "trying for joy" and this is my "thing", so I want to focus on what is great. I did it below, in pictures.