I’ve been working on my 5 minutes a day projects, mostly taking pictures. Here are a few of my favorites so far.

There are a few others at my flickr page

With all this talk about trying out the GFCF diet, I thought it would be a good idea to speak with Tessa’s doctor first. I mentioned how removing gluten from her diet has yielded some positive changes but that she still has the perpetual “allergy shiners”. I noted that there is an obvious connection between the seasons and extra snot, but I felt like there was still some other underlying issues that seems to fill in the spaces between seasons. Looking at her chart, she had documented several indicators of allergies through out the year and agreed that we should run a blood panel to test for some more common allergens. Blood panel, from a not-quite-4-year-old. A blood panel from a not-quite-four-year-old who’s mom is apt to swoon with a case of the vapors anytime she catches sight of a needle. Yeah, such fun.

Nurse Heather came into the room bearing a handful of pointy things and tubes. My knees started knocking and weakening. Dr C could see me coming unglued and offered to hold Levi. I handed him over and stood next to Tessa, clutching her hand. I did my best to explain what was about to occur in a light cheerful voice, while simultaneously suppressing the urge to scream and vomit from fear. I started having flashbacks to the gory scene in the hospital when Mira was 3 months old and they kept botching her blood draw; the phlebotomy lab looked like the scene of a gruesome Lizzy Borden style attack.

The familiar signs of panic attack started bubbling to the surface. My hearing went dull, a wet hot flush crept up my body and my sight grew tunnel-like and dim. My eyes rolled over towards Tessa who simply said, “ouch” and then watched with gross fascination as her blood looped through a twisting straw, puddling in a collection tube.

She’s nearly 4 and she didn’t scream. She’s nearly 4 and she didn’t cry. She’s nearly 4 and she’s the bravest girl I know. Obviously, she’s gets this from her father.

Hopefully we’ll hear something by Wednesday of next week and double hopefully they won’t need more blood because even though Tessa can handle it, mommy might just pass out.

Lately, I have been flexing my video muscle around here in preparation for a new feature on Finding Yourself. New feature? YES!

NEW

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Finding Yourself will soon have the ability to come at you LIVE!! I think we all owe Shakadoo a big thank you, or maybe they owe everyone an apology for making this possible. Only time will tell.

Mira tattled on her Aunt. Her Aunt is annoyed that my daughter shows such passion for rules. I think that she thinks that I have Mira brain washed. If only that were true. Believe me, I have worked long and hard to try and teach Mira some amount of flexibility, though on occasion her ridged perception of right and wrong has been a bit of a blessing.

A few weeks ago, we attended a family function where there was lots of food. Most family functions are brimming with food. If you mouth is full of food, it’s harder to put your foot in there. These functions are particularly challenging now that the girls are gluten free. There is so much that looks wonderful and right within reach, that I find myself having to patrol the food areas. I thought that if I just watched where the food generally is, that things would be well under control, especially in the presence of family. I was wrong.

Apparently, the girls Aunt has taken a position of indignation over their gluten free status. She feels that kids should be free to gorge themselves on what ever they please and should not worry about food. She believes that overall kids will make the right dietary choices. While this is not a bad position to take so long as you have educated your kids about proper nutrition and modeled good food relationships, it’s very apparent that she does not understand the dynamics of food allergies and how your body craves fiercest what it is most allergic to.

So righteous is her anger over the situation, that she could not even bear to speak to me. Every room I entered, she fled with not a word. I knew something was going on, but did not know what until Mira tattled,

“Mama!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Auntie G is going to make me eat gluten!! I don’t want to, it might make me sick!”

*blink* What? Your Aunt that you love and admire is threatening to make you eat food that I have removed you from in an attempt to determine if it is causing your body harm?

I went and had a talk with The Hubster, who brushed it off as a joke. later I spied my girls eating COOKIES. Not being one for ruining other peoples parties, I swallowed the hard angry lump in my throat. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I seethed. I was especially seething 20 minutes later when Tessa’s body reacted to the cookies with copious amount of diarrhea.

It is quite apparent to me that Tessa has inherited my gluten issues. It is also quite apparent to me that certain family members think that I am either making up these issues or wholly blowing them out of proportion. Additionally, it is now apparent to me who I can trust to honor my decisions as a parent.

All that being said, I now know why my husband has been pressuring me to remove the girls from their gluten free diet to “see what happens.” This has been the prevailing attitude for the last month until he caught a few moments of Jenny McCarthy talking about how the GFCF diet has dramatically improved her son’s quality of life and reduced his symptoms of autism. That little blurb, a moment where he could see it’s not just me reading some crack pot journals, seems to have drastically changed his stance of things. That night he turned to me and said;

“Maybe we should give this GFCF thing a real try, see what happens with the girls”

After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I told him I would start researching things. The Hubsters biggest worry about this now, is the prohibitive cost of alternative eating products. Our grocery bill already jumped when I removed gluten but now casein too? I worry about how his family will receive the news of even bigger dietary restrictions; will we have to bow out of future gatherings, knowing that they are hellbent on undermining us? My biggest worry, though, is that cheese, much like crack rock, is highly addictive. I wonder if the withdrawals are as bad…

Just a little Sunday smile

Mere weeks before the birth of my son, crushing panic descended from the heavens. The wind blew in sharp and dry from the west whispering to me. GET RID OF YOUR CRIB. The crib I had impulsively purchased on Ebay when news of baby (destined to be miscarriage number 2 and we later found out twins) first broke. I reasoned that if we started preparing there was no way I could lose the baby. When it arrived I put it together so I could stare at it and will my body to hang on. It didn’t work and the crib was soon dismantled.

Eventually it housed Mira and then Tessa. Mira did not make much use of it, preferring to set up shop in our room. At 5 months old she’d sleep a short portion of the night in that crib and in the 14 months it occupied her room I don’t think she spent one entire night there.

Tessa, on the other hand, started sleeping in the crib almost right away. She loathed sharing her sleeping space and would even cry out after nursing until I awoke, removed her from my bed and nestled her into the crib.

Through two children I thought my worst crib worries involved my children learning to escape, something that Tessa tried around a year old and resulted in early graduation to big girl bed-ville. However during those years of service, I was often a bit concerned over the drop side of the crib wiggling. I tend to be an anxious kind of person so I reasoned away that fear as best as a could: It had to wiggle so it could drop it down… and I stuffed that little niggling worry down into the bottom of my guts until a few short weeks before the appearance of my son.

With nesting this old worry resurfaced, only this time I decided that we simply must get rid of the crib- I’m so glad I did.

WASHINGTON, D.C. - The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) is announcing today a voluntary recall with Simplicity Inc., of Reading, Pa., of about 1 million cribs. The drop-side can detach from the crib, which can create a dangerous gap and lead to the entrapment and suffocation of infants. CPSC is aware of two deaths in Simplicity manufactured cribs with older style hardware, including a 9-month-old child and a 6-month-old child, where the drop-side was installed upside down. CPSC is also aware of seven infant entrapments and 55 incidents in these cribs.

CPSC is also investigating the death of a 1-year-old child in a Simplicity crib with newer style hardware, in which the drop-side was installed upside down. CPSC is warning parents and caregivers to check all Simplicity cribs to make sure the drop-side is installed right side up.

The drop-side failures result from both the hardware and crib design, which allow consumers to unintentionally install the drop-side upside down. This, in turn, can weaken the hardware and cause the drop-side to detach from the crib. When the drop-side detaches, it creates a gap in which infants can become entrapped.

CPSC is also aware of two incidents that occurred when the drop-side was correctly installed with older style hardware, though the upside down installation greatly increases the risk of failure.

The recalled Simplicity crib models include: Aspen 3 in 1, Aspen 4 in 1, Nursery-in-a-Box, Crib N Changer Combo, Chelsea and Pooh 4 in 1. The recall also involves the following Simplicity cribs that used the Graco logo: Aspen 3 in 1, Ultra 3 in 1, Ultra 4 in1, Ultra 5 in 1, Whitney and the Trio.

The recalled cribs have one of the following model numbers, which can be found on the envelope attached to the mattress support and on the label attached to the headboard: 4600, 4605, 4705, 5000, 8000, 8324, 8800, 8740, 8910, 8994, 8050, 8750, 8760, and 8996.

The cribs, which were made in China, were sold in department stores, children’s stores and mass merchandisers nationwide from January 1998 through May 2007 for between $100 and $300.

more HERE

It turns out I wasn’t just a nervous Nelly or suffering from severe gas; that feeling in the pit of my stomach was mother’s intuition. I’m so very lucky that nothing happened during those early years of ignoring that feeling. Please, go check your cribs and cuddle your babies.

Today is the LAST day for entries! To enter click HERE and follow the instructions.

Dear Hubster,

This is the face of an unrepentant poop eater

Why might I be sharing this photo and caption with you? Anything come to mind? How about that bag full of doodie diapers that you left resting open on the floor right next to Dozer’s dog bed? Yes, that bag of tasty tush tacos which no gluttonous crap consumer could resist. You know the one that you should have taken outside but you, for some unknown reason, felt it would be better appreciated left near the foot of our marital bed. I feel I should share exactly what happened to the contents of said bag in excruciating detail.

Yesterday I found myself blithely sweeping the concrete in the back portion of the house when a series of splats and guttural hoarks broke the mood. Knowing that our massive 2 ton bullDozer has the delicate trembling stomach of a 96 year old woman, I booked it to the back door, threw it open, and propelled the dog into the yard where he proceeded to barf up an endless gelatinous stream of marshmallow like goo. Pillowy bile lace piles rested just outside our back stoop and my lunch pushed at the back of my throat, threatening to also break free.

I swung my body around drunkenly as my vision fuzzed in and out. My feet sought to propel me to the kitchen for a cool glass of water, but instead met with something cold and creamy. My nostrils flared as my body cringed from this unwelcome sensation. I peered downward and realized I was foot first in a baby bottom bomb. Squishy stinky reality slapped me hard. I hobbled my way towards the bathroom to clean up following a long brown trail that wound it’s way through the dinning room, down the hall, and to the dog bed. Haphazard and nearly invisible piles of puppy puke were sprinkled around the trail, making navigation down the hall particularly adventurous and disgusting.

It took me two long hours to contain the carnage and decontaminate our home. Two long hours that could have been used for navel gazing, toe nail chewing, ceiling sweeping or any number of other worthwhile pursuits.. or just doing that whole mothering thing where I play with, sing to, read to and nurture our young children. Two hours. But hey! You saved 10 minutes and the trouble of tying up the bag. You owe me. Big. I think I know a certain sexy Hubster who will not be allowed to shave off his curls, especially that Superman one that lazes on your forehead in that come hither fashion.

Your loving wife,

Fidget

Me, circa 2nd grade. Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

For another fashionable flashback take a peek HERE

Now this last image was doomed to deletion until I spied something irresistible:

Do you SEE the dimples on this boy?? It’s a wonder he’s not covered in bite marks.