On FPIES

So, my son has FPIES. (food protein induced enterocolitis syndrome: (Here's the list of foods he can't eat: animal milk or milk products, soy, corn, egg, rice, chickpeas, lentils, quinoa, pears, green beans, peas, nuts and nutmeg. And being outside triggers reactions, because some pollen is too similar to eggs. We haven't tried meat yet...too complex of proteins.) I sometimes hate talking about it because I don't want to be 'that mom'. I already feel like 'that mom' anytime we're around other people with food: 'Do you have an allergy list for your restaurant?' 'Oh, we brought our own food.' 'Can I read that label?' 'No Graham! Don't eat that!' You get the picture.

Also, I know that while it can be difficult and frustrating and emotionally taxing, that overall Graham is healthy and happy and we are so blessed. So I don't want to ever come across as 'oh we have it so hard.' We don't.

But, at the same time, I realize that 'hard' can be relative sometimes. And this is my blog, so can I share that sometimes, it IS hard? And sometimes I get angry about it? And sometimes I accept it and am grateful for it and how much we've learned? And sometimes I can't stand seeing another rash, or another vomiting episode, or finding poop in random places on the floor from so much poop, or 5 cranky days in a row because he just.doesn't.feel.good. And it breaks my heart.

Like tonight. Jim was gone for 14 hours today between work and an after-work commitment. Which were both good things, just made for a long day. And when our day ended with a child with a bad rash and a large mess that I won't go into, and I didn't know what it was from except that it was an allergic reaction to something, that I just wanted to be done with it. But then there was a boy in a bathtub with bubbles, asking to stay up and play 'for just one more minute!' and saying 'mommy pat me and sing one more song' in bed...and I'm tired and spent and melting to pieces all at the same time.

This life is not at all what I thought 'mommyhood' was. It's harder, more tiring and more mundane, all at once. (let's be honest) But it's also more full, and rich, and funny and wonderfully exhausting than I ever dreamed. I don't know what I'm doing most days, but I wouldn't trade it.

To end, some Graham quotes from today:

When I finished with our recycling: 'You all done recycling! Good job, mom.' (he's started calling me mom. Not OK.)

After giving him a sip of my black coffee: 'Mmm! That bery tasty.'

Anytime: 'I want to watch just a wittle bit of TV.'

After a long nap (first in DAYS): 'I all done seeping, mom. Mommy come pay in my room!'

Anytime I suggest doing anything other than what he is doing: 'I do dis for a feeew more minutes. I do dis first, then I do that.'

2 going on 15, seriously. I love him. I don't know what to do with him, but I love him.

Starting Over

January. The time of year when you can start fresh. A clean slate, a crisp calendar, and new resolve to actually improve all of those things that you planned on improving last year. For me, it meant seriously sticking to routines.

Fresh out of the holiday merriment, and with that the complete and utter lack of any semblance of a routine, this Type-A driven person was about to lose her marbles. I enjoy the holidays just as much, if not more than, the average person; but, with children, lack of structure can drive one to insanity in the form of 20 hour road trips and teething toddlers overtired from lack of sleep and hyped up on attention from family.

I like to imagine I'm one of those free-flowing moms, who just goes wherever the wind takes us: exploring, gallivanting through fields on the side of the road...you get the picture. But what I've realized is, I like to be that type of mom if I've planned to be that type of mom. My weekly calendar will say something like: 'Thursday, Gallivant.' And then I'll feel as though I'm wild and free...I may even plan to wear a flowy dress, for effect.

So, fresh off the holiday high, like many people do, we experienced a few sad days of mourning known as 'The Holidays are Over.' Also entitled 'Where Did All the Parties Go?' 'Why Can't I Just Sit and Drink Wine?' and 'What Happened to All the Built-In Babysitters Family?' After about 3 days, we started to rally. We were going to get this new year started off right, dang it! And then I got the stomach flu. Like, the for real, gross, everything-you-think-about-when-you-say-the-words-'stomach-flu' flu. 2 days later, Graham had allergy testing and FPIES diagnosis. The next day, daddy got the stomach flu. 2 days later, I got a concussion.

What was that? Oh, yes. PSA: baby gates are out to kill you. Really. I was just minding my own business, holding some poop stained pants from my non-napping son, when it jumped out of nowhere and tripped me. (Nowhere actually happened to be in the door where it was supposed to be at the time, and tripping was more like 'I have short person legs'). Cue dramatic head over heels fall where I cracked my head on our hall clock. Like any wise person would do, I decided the best way for Graham and I both to move past this was to have a dance party and also lift him above my head 50 times. 2 days later I was in the ER getting a CT scan. While I was in my time of 'utter darkness' as I fondly refer to it, the next week, our overly-zealous son reached for Jim and scratched his (Jim's) cornea in 2 places. (I joked with Jim that our first routine could be weekly ER visits. He didn't find it as funny as I did.) And there's a lot of other uncertainties that are popping up, like jobs and where we're living and you know, minor life changes. (I have to pause and say we have the absolute best friends and family who we can not thank enough for caring for us for the past 2 weeks!! Seriously.)

So, here it is, January 27th, and we're kind of-sort of starting our routines. Believe it or not, 2 weeks of extreme quiet allows one to do a lot of thinking. I'll write more about that some other time, as I actually learned a lot. For now, we're starting over. New resolve. New perspective. New routines.

2014, here we come!