Just your typical Friday night (picture working now, I hope)

Just Another Parenting Mystery

What is that word that means something like conundrum? Only it takes a lifetime to even begin to understand how to balance the enigma, without ever really solving it? Oh yeah, that's right. It's called parenthood.

I have this child.  When faced with food he didn't like, he complained his stomach hurt. Then one day it became a tooth ache.  Every couple of days he would mention his tooth hurting, but then, when prodded, would stop complaining and eat.

Finally, after complaining while eating  a meal where all the options began with Mc-, my husband decided it might be more than a food-avoiding gimmick. He looked into the deep pit of our son's mouth and found hiding in back a severely abscessed tooth. He should've been writhing in pain for at least a week.  That is when we learned he has excessive pain tolerance; for all he complains, a small stomach ache could be appendicitis!

On the other hand, I have this child. A papercut is the end of the world. Stubbed toes elicit animal like howling and scraped knees warrant headache-inducing screeches. I must hear him holler from stepped on feet, small pinches, or simple stumbles a hundred times a day. He has zero pain tolerance (and excellent vocal skills).

Just what is the mystery, you ask? I am describing the SAME child.

Got it? Screaming and crying = fine, calm or slight mention of pain = might be dying. My child with the highest pain tolerance happens to have no pain tolerance at all.

• So ... if you see my child complain of something small and he doesn't even seem upset, yet I give him a full history and physical, don't think I'm an over-hovering mom.
  
  
• On the other hand ... if you see my child come up to me practically wild with pain and I just roll my eyes and send him on his way, don't think I'm completely detached.

I'm just practicing balance with a personal parenting enigma.

That time I gave my eyes an accidental overdose

I'm rather fond of my eyeballs. Sure, they require super strong lenses to see past the end of my nose. And they did once got a serious tissue-destroying infection that caused me severe light sensitivity and pirate looking eye patches. Oh, and allergies once caused the white part to swell like a blister. But I can't complain about what my eyes have done to me, as I once almost killed them.

What? I never told you how I almost accidentally murdered my own two eyeballs? Well, I can fix that right now.

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It's all the fault of the TSA. Or is it the terrorists? Whomever you choose to blame for the "only 3 ounce liquids on an airplane" rule. We were travelling to Texas for my brothers wedding. (Maybe it is his fault for getting married and making me travel by plane?) Wanting to see more than the end of my nose, I brought my travel-sized contact solution and case. At the time we lived in North Carolina and by the time we traveled to the airport 2.5 hours away and then flew to El Paso with all six kids, we were a little tired. I dug through the luggage, took out my now-glued-to-my-eyes contacts, washed my face, and went to bed.

Something I've done a thousand times, right? Not the travel to El Paso part. The take out my contacts after a long day part. In the morning I completed the ritual by reinstalling my contacts. There was the not-unusual burning the first blink or two, and then... and then ...

The burning seemed to intensify? Ouch! It hurt so badly! When I ran back to the bathroom to take out the trecherous contacts I realized what I had done.

You see, ever since the allergic eyeball swelling incident, I have been very good at using allergy eye drops. Nothing like Frankenstein eyes to learn that lesson. But, the normal small bottle of eye drops was almost the exact size and shape as the contact solution bottle. In my exhaustion the night before, I had grabbed the wrong bottle. I had soaked my sight-giving, water absorbent pieces of plastic in allergy eye drops all night. And then worn them on my equally absorbent eyeballs for 5 minutes. (What can I say, I'm a little slow to respond. I kept thinking the burn would just go away. If I'd realized what was causing it earlier, I would have acted sooner.)

I had just given my eyeballs a major overdose, and they were MAD at me.

You might be asking what three months worth of eye drops absorbed in 5 minutes feels like? Well, my pupils completely overtook my irises. If I didn't know better, I would think it went past my irises. My eyes went from hazel to pure black for over a day. Light became my enemy.

The next day or so, I was the idiot rocking sunglasses indoors. Over my normal glasses (which were held together with tape and wire). It was a beautiful way to meet everyone coming in for the wedding. Luckily, by the time the actual wedding came, I was able to put contacts back in, but I still couldn't handle bright light. Good thing we weren't in the middle of the desert. Oh yeah, we were. I could at least pull off my sunglasses for short amounts of time, long enough to not look dorky in the wedding photos. More dorky than normal that is. It's been a few years for my overworked mind to forget, but I think I did okay in the temple without the sunglasses, too. That would be something I'd remember, right?

On the plus side, I had no itching or redness in my eyes the entire time. My eyes may have never been so black, but they had never been so white, either.

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So the next time your packing all your 3-ounce-or-less liquids for a trip on the airplane, remember to be careful. All those bottles may  look alike, but they are definitely not the same thing.

Strangle enough I also learned about under/over exposure on my camera this trip, too
Carlsbad Caverns and White Sands.

Just a post until I can post for real

I didn't mean to leave you hanging, thinking I was recovering from Joseph being sick for all this time. I wasn't. I was recovering from Joseph being sick, me getting the same stomach bug, then Ethan, Kirsti, Ethan again, and Elise. And then a sinus infection for me which resulted in a 3 day long medicine-only-makes-me-barely-functional headache (which included items 7-11 below).

Oh, yeah, and

1. Mom in town,
2. Elise's birthday,
3. Peter out of town (for #'s 4-8)
4. school project for Ethan, Kirsti and Joseph,
5. Young Women project for Elise,
6. ward activity where I brought potato soup and homemade bread all dyed green
7. subbing as Primary chorister (I didn't know it was called music leader?),
8. taking kids alone to church on Daylight Savings Day after forgetting and letting them stay up late,
9. elementary kids out of school for three days,
10. pi day (one of my kids favorite holidays),
11. parent/teacher conferences,
12. and Ethan's pinewood derby.

But, you know, no big deal. I'll be recovered enough to post soon...

Next time I'll just stay in bed and read all day.

I like Mondays. There I said it and you can think I'm nutty all you want. For me they are a new beginning; a chance to start things off right. One I get every single week!  Unless in the process you start the week out by ripping your favorite jeans, of course.

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That being said, Tuesday could be considered my stereotypical dreaded Monday. It is shopping day, and recently became gym day, too. This week I met my goal on distance during my elliptical workout. It felt wonderful! And by wonderful, I mean I felt like my legs were going to fall off. Then I walked around the grocery store and took Matthew to lunch with his cousins and Grandma (who is in town watching some of his cousins).

As if that weren't exhausting enough, because, trust me, it was, I also finished my laundry and mopped my floors three times (in an attempt to find a system that didn't leave streaks on my floors and/or instant footprints afterwards).

And I cleaned my pantry. Emptied, wiped down, organized, and labeled. By that time I was really ready for the day to be over.

Then dinner and running my older half of children to church activities. Anyway, it wasn't until I got back home that I realized the slight headache and scratchy throat I'd felt all day was quickly descending into a full blown cold. I put the kids to bed and then took some Flonase for the building mucas, IBprofin for the headache and Melatonin for its- possibly placebo- sleep producing abilities. 'Cause I don't care why it works if it works and I figured that was the only way I was going to sleep when I felt so awful.

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On my way up the stairs to bed, exhausted and drugged, I thought I heard the washing machine over flowing. As I ran the rest of the way, I realized the sound was coming not from the laundry room, but from the hall where Joseph was stumbling around half-asleep.

Was he walking through celaphane, my denial asked? The hallway light quickly dissipated those hopes. He was christening our new carpet with his stomach contents.

After my husband and I cleaned him and the floor up we went to tuck him and a barf bowl into bed. There we realized we'd only found the secondary explosion, his bedroom received the initial shock. So did several toys and clothes. More cleaning up. Joy.

Another load of laundry and I was finally able to stumble to bed myself.

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 Wednesday was a needed Tuesday-recovery day, but...

•  my cold hit full force,
•  I found out the laundry I tossed in half asleep somehow contained a bottle of nail polish,
•  and, in his own words, Joseph "farted throw up." 
• I cleaned it up.

At least I found, after another 3 mopping attempts, that Windex works best on my wood floors. And Peter bought Joseph and me Powerade with an additional dose of Peanut Butter M&M's for me. Also by nightfall Joseph was well enough for us to grab some Mexican food for dinner.

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Still, I think next Tuesday I'll just stay in bed and read all day.