Holiday Stress

My daughter Reagan is allergic to nuts. As a baby she was sensitive to milk so we kept her away from other common allergens, like nuts and shellfish. But last year, when she was 2 and half years old, she took a bite of some valentines candy that my husband was eating. The reaction was immediate. She started scratching her tongue and asking for water. After a frantic call to the nurse and some benedryl, she was feeling much better. We headed out to church, but had to leave halfway through when she threw up all over my poor husband. Thankfully it happened in the lobby after she got restless during mass. To this day she still talks about 'getting sick all over daddy and the bushes at church.'

After that day, I didn't ask, I just told our pediatrician that we needed to see an allergist. No more waiting to see if she would grow out of it, or avoiding foods, I wanted to know what she was allergic to, and what to do about it. The blood test revealed some normal dust, ragweed, mold and pollen allergies. Sadly, it also revealed that she was strongly allergic to hazelnuts and peanuts, and though less so, allergic to pretty much every other nut. 

Now we have an action plan, as they call it. We carry benedryl and her EPI pen with us wherever we go. There is a 20% chance that she will grow out it, but besides redoing the blood test, there is no way to tell. It's too dangerous to expose her to a nut. 

And now the holidays. I'll never look at a buffet table the same way again. Every dish is a possible danger zone for her. It's a leap of faith to trust the person who made the sweet potato casserole, even if she is grandma. We're teaching Reagan to ask before she eats something, but she's 3, and that's a huge responsibility to place on her. When the macadamia nut cookie looks an awful lot like the white chocolate chip ones we make at home, will she even think twice before taking a bite? For now we just ask our family to leave out the nuts, and even though it means no pecan pie or almonds in the green beans, they are happy to oblige.  For non-family events, I pack her food. I'm hoping that weget through this season without any mishaps.

Movies I want my kids to see...

You know those lists that come out every summer, telling us about this years incoming college freshmen? If you haven't seen one they usually start like this:

This year's freshman was born in 1990 (yes, 1990). The first president they remember is Bill Clinton, and many don't know who Ronald Reagan was. They don't remember the cold war, the Berlin Wall or the USSR. They've always had VCR's, DVD players, cell phones and the internet. Harry Potter could be a classmate, the Tonight Show has always been hosted by Jay Leno and Madonna has always been a mom.

Scary huh? It's very easy to forget what our kids won't remember. I think my parents did a pretty good job of teaching me about important things that happened before I was born. My dad always liked the quote, ' those who do not know history, are doomed to repeat it.' My family came to this country as immigrants, and I know many of their stories because they took the time to tell me. I've seen the passport photo that my great-grandmother displayed when she landed at Ellis Island. I've heard stories of the week my grandfather spent crossing the Atlantic with his sister. And how after spending months earning enough money to bring the rest of the family over, he was promptly drafted and shipped back across that ocean. I can appreciate the doors that are open for me, because I know about the ones that were closed to them. 

It's not easy to explain to children about the past. Most of their time is spent focused on the present. One of the ways my parents helped us to understand was through movies. I remember watching 'It's a Wonderful Life' over and over with my dad. Anything about Ireland was also playing frequently at our house. Now that my daughters are growing up, I started to think about a list of movies that I want them to see, even if it's just once, so that they understand the time and place, the struggles and the triumphs. Many will have to wait until they are older, but I'm writing them down so I don't forget. Here's my list, feel free to add:

1. It's a Wonderful Life

2. Saving Private Ryan

3. Life is Beautiful

4. Gone With The Wind

5. Back to the Future (just for fun)

6. Goonies (again, just for fun)

7. Places in the Heart

8. Apollo 13

9. Schindler's List

10. The Wizard of OZ

11. The Sound of Music

12. Forrest Gump

13. Titanic (my husband is rolling his eyes)

14. Moulin Rouge

15. Mary Poppins

16. E.T.

17. The Natural

18. Field of Dreams

19. Hoosiers

20. The Adventures of Natty Gann

21. Erin Brokovitch 

22. The Color Purple 

23. The Pursuit of Happiness

and many more to come...

Obviously many of these will have to wait until they are much older. For now there are so many great kids movies that I can't wait to watch with them.

Enjoy!

Soccer Season...

I'm so excited. As a teenager, I loved soccer. I wasn't always very good, but I loved it. I even worked as a referee, logging enough games to pay for junior prom, and later to furnish my freshman dorm room. It was great. Saturdays were spent out in the sunshine, watching laughing children and collecting a paycheck. The one thing we all dreaded, was being assigned a muppet game. The muppet's were the 3-5 year old division. Most of these kids were wriggled into a uniform and tossed onto the field with no idea of what was going on. A whistle was blown and they were told to 'get the ball', usually by a very vocal parent on the sidelines. Like a swarm of bumble bees these kids would fight for the ball, ignoring sideline, whistles, bleachers, parents, siblings, coolers, benches and even the goal. We used small plastic, field hockey type goals, and the kids would barrel through them and onto the next field. Much of my time was spent reaching into the mass of kids to grab the ball and return them to the field. Parents yelled, coaches cursed, kids cried. As referees we did our best to maintain order until the snack was brought out and the kids no longer cared. I swore then and there that I would never, even do this to my children.

Fast forward 13 years, and I've just spent the summer chasing my 3 year old and wondering what I could possibly do to satisfy her endless need for action. Chatting with another mom at the playground one day, she was raving about a soccer program in a neighboring town, and how different it was. So, I decided to check it out.

Last weekend was our first practice. R was so excited, she was dressed hours before it was time to go. When we got to the field she jumped out of the car. After signing in, we got a shirt and a ball, and joined the other kids. The coach stood before 2 dozen kids, each flanked with a parent (which is required) and explained the program. No yelling, have fun, run with the kids, teach them to love the game, get involved, understand the game yourself. The 'practices' are basically skills camps, games will be 3 on 3 and limited to a few minutes. No winners, no losers. He spoke to the kids. 'Walk like a penguin, that's how you dribble the ball.' He made the parents look silly, we sat on the ball and clucked like chickens, the kids laughed. This is the soccer that I knew, that I loved. R was beaming. She dribbled, kicked and ran to her hearts content. I'm so excited. I can share something that I loved with my child. 

Even if she decided to play something else (which I'm OK with really), I firmly believe that starting out like this will teach her to love sports. And that's all I can ask for. 

We Moved!

We moved. In early August we got a phone call from a couple looking to rent our townhome. We were so excited, but we tried not to get our hopes up. They came by and looked around, and they decided to take it. Hooray. We did all the necessary paper work; background checks and credit checks, security deposits, and reference calls; we took photos of all the rooms, conducted a walk through and signed a lease. We're happy to be leaving, but apprehensive about the responsibility of being landlords. It's not a path we would have chosen. We packed quickly, found a nice rental home near DH's office and called family and friends for help. The last saturday in August I sent the girls to my moms house, drove back and loaded the truck. It took only two trips to empty five years of memories. My amazing children took the move rather well. The 'new house' was exciting and new, and by the time it wears off they will most likely not remember their old home any more. Isn't moving bittersweet? The townhome was our first home as a married couple, and we welcomed two beautiful babies into our lives there. It was time to move on, but that day my heart ached a bit.

Our new home is an old 1960's ranch in a sleepy tree lined neighborhood. Many of the residents have been here for 40 years, and others, like us, are new, just starting out with small children and avoiding the suburbs to save on gas, and have daddy home at 5:30. It's small, but with no stairs the girls feel like they have an entire to house to run in. We have a yard, and a cat next door. But most importantly, it feels like home.

It always seems to happen that life is going along in the slow lane and then, bam, everything hits at once. In this case it's nothing bad, just lots of work (and lots of pressure to get everything in on time), plus we're still trying to rent our townhome, and having no luck. As frustrating as it is, I can't help but be grateful that we can afford our home (even if it is a little tight with two kids), and that we're not in any danger of losing it. It's so scary to see all these people losing their homes. Thinking back, I remember our realtor, the lender and even friends suggesting that we look into some creative financing to get into a larger house. While our friends were spending thousands more and buying much bigger homes, DH and I could only afford the townhome, so we settled for it. We always thought that in a few years we would be making more money, or the house would be worth more and we could sell and move up. But life doesn't always work out that way. Five years, two kids, a layoff, a major career change and a sluggish real estate market derailed our plans. So here we are. I have to remind myself of the positives aspects of living here. There is no lawn maintenance, it's easy to clean (just one great room), we're close to all sorts of stuff for the girls, we can afford our mortgage payment and it's new so there isn't much fixing up to do. I hope we're not living here this time next year. The girls are getting bigger, and we need to find a home in a better school district. But for now, it'll have to do.

Happy 4th of July

So I had this wonderful vision of my husband and I taking our two girls to all sorts of 4th of July festivities. Everyone would have a great time, take naps between stops, eat all of their dinner and fall asleep on the way home from fireworks. This is how it really went; the parade started late, I had to be the mean mommy and take away the candy (most of it at least) and the naps were too short to matter. The fire truck and helicopter display held by the local fire department was a great idea, but the sun and the asphalt made it too hot for two toddlers, and two tired parents to take. Someone decided that she didn't like hotdogs or pasta salad and only wanted to eat the icing on her birthday cupcake. And finally, after waiting an hour and half, both girls hated the fireworks and we drove home to find both them so excited by all the commotion that sleep was the last thing on their minds. The funny thing is, it was still a fun day.