I Hate Eggs

At Jane's 15-month well-check she was supposed to get her MMR vaccination.  I was really nervous about it.  At one point in recent history the MMR was not given to kids with an egg allergy.  Now, it is considered safe for even those with extreme egg allergies.  Nevertheless, I was nervous and kept telling our Pediatrician about it.  He finally said that he would give her a skin-prick test (SPT) to see if she had a reaction, just to put me at ease.  We did it.  I cried.  He had to stick the needle all sideways into her arm and inject a little bit in.  It looked quite painful.  20 minutes later he said she is not getting her MMR shot until (and if) she outgrows her egg allergy.  Apparently, the welt she had was a reaction.  I was grateful we did the test and she did not get the shot.  Yay for my mommy instincts, right?  :-/

So we get back home and I call the allergist.  If the MMR is considered safe for egg-allergic kids, why did Jane react?  He told me he could give her the MMR shot in his office THIS FRIDAY in graduated doses.  He will do his own SPT and go from there.  He thinks our doctor overreacted as 50% of positive SPT readings are false. 

...sigh...

I'm really nervous about her getting it.  I know she will be under the best care possible if she does have some kind of reaction.  But, nervousness is racing through my veins.  We have to leave our house by 7:15 am (early for us) to go to Louisville and will undergo a series of shots within a 2-hour period.  My poor child. 

I hate food allergies.  I hate that it's ruined my life.  And it really has.  I'm scared to take Jane anywhere now.  Even our pediatrician said that you have to be careful if someone has even eaten an egg and then kisses Jane.  I asked him how long someone would have to refrain and he said 24 hours.  What?!  So if someone eats a cookie they have to stay away from my daughter or else she might have a fatal reaction.  How am I supposed to manage that?  I guess I will just keep her on lock-down for the rest of her life. 

This is the reason I am already worried about Thanksgiving and thinking of boycotting all holiday festivities this year.  This is the reason I can't take Jane on any overnight trips.  This is the reason I obsess over what she eats, even if I KNOW it is "safe".  This is the reason I have nightmares about EGGS. 

I can't deal with this. I just can't. I hate it. 

The dreaded B-word

I hate to say it.  I'm officially bored.  It's been a long time since I've been bored.  Jane came along and my whole life changed.  There was always something to do.  I didn't think I'd ever find time for boredom again.  Alas, it found me.  Now, I know this must be something that a lot of people struggle with from time to time.  I know it can't just be me.  But sometimes I wake up with no exciting plans for the day and I just want to cry.  Days alone with Jane are the worst.  I delight in everything she does.  She is my next breath, my entire reason.  But...we are just bored a lot these days.  There is simply nothing for us to do.  Get up, breakfast, play, laundry, dishes, snack, nap, lunch, dishes, play, cook dinner, blah, blah BLAH.  Repeat.  The monotony is getting to me.  Even work bores me.  It' all so predictable.  So typical.  And if you asked me what would fix my boredom I could not give you an answer.  I have no idea. 

I think what I'd like is to have another life for just a week or two.  Maybe I could be 18 again and go to college for the first time.  Or if I could become some gorgeous movie star having a love affair, going to expensive dinners and on tropical vacations.  Of course, I would want to come back to my life...my Jane and my husband.  But a week or two in someone else's  (charmed) life sounds exciting.  I just wonder what everyone else does when they feel this way.  Is this why people have affairs?  Is this why some people thrive on constant drama?  I know I don't really want that.  I'm really extremely happy with my life the way it is now.  I guess this is really a reflection upon myself.  My mom always told me that bored people are BORING.  Touche...I've always been prone to boredom. 

So each day I look forward to Jane's bedtime and then when she's finally asleep and I am "free" I figure out I have nothing to do.  House is clean.  Dinners are planned and prepped for the week.  Facebook is slowly draining the life out of me.  I can't concentrate on reading.  TV sucks.  WHAT?!

Maybe this is just the heat of summer getting to me.  Maybe I should take my f-ing Zoloft.  Maybe I should get pregnant again.  (No...not that.)  Maybe all I need is a night out with some good girlfriends, which is really not feasible considering the only ones I'd really like to go out with live far away and I can't yet leave Jane at night.  Maybe my little family should go on a mini vacation.  But then again...that is so much trouble with Jane's egg allergies and having to prepare ALL OF HER MEALS at home beforehand.  Ugh...I just hope this passes soon.  Until then, I feel like a "Desperate Housewife". 

Some Random Thursday

It's 9:30 on a Thursday evening and my husband and Jane have been asleep for 2 hours.  I've been wasting time on Facebook, straightened the house, and even got a 30 minute workout in on the treadmill.  I feel GOOD!  I wonder how much I weigh.  Surprisingly, I haven't weighed myself in at least a month.  I used to weigh myself every day.  Of course, that was when I was dieting and delighted in the scale.  I currently weigh probably 10 pounds less than I did when I got pregnant.  Pretty good, but I've still got a good 15 pounds to go before I get to an acceptable weight.  25 if we're talking goal weight.  I worked out on the treadmill in only my bra and panties.  Luckily there aren't too many mirrors in the room, but I got a look at myself in one mirror and I don't guess I look that bad if you sort of blur your vision a bit.  ;)

And speaking of PANTIES, I bought some new ones!  2 pairs of lacy Daisy Fuentes hipsters (not hers, but her brand) that actually do NOT ride up my ass all day and a 3-pack of Jockey french-cut COTTON panties.  I'd never worn Jockey's before.  These are pretty acceptable.  They are comfortable and yet not entirely granny.  I'd say they are appropriate for a gal in her early 30's.  Well, at least a married gal with a 15-month old.  Enough about panties.

Now on to my chronic worry problem.  Yes, it's still there.  If you met me on the street you'd think I was totally normal.  Maybe a bit chatty, but basically normal.  Inside I am a giant ball of nervousness.  I am constantly on edge.  There is this terminal gnawing in my stomach.  I guess it's dread.  And it's all to do with Jane.  I will tell you it's because of her food allergy that I am like this, but I realize that if it wasn't that, it would be something else.  I just constantly worry about her.  I can never relax and just BE.  On the way home from the store today I seriously thought about getting some counseling.  I should probably get some "help" although in the past it's never gotten me far.  My family will all say I should just TAKE MY ZOLOFT.  I don't know why I won't do that.  Seriously, I will take a Zoloft one day and then forget for 5 days to take it again.  I guess I should give it a try for a few weeks and see if it really will make a difference.  I am just so annoyed with the way I am.  It is in my genes to be like this.  I was BORN nervous and worried.  I envy my mother who simply enjoys things as they come.  She never assumes.  She has faith that things will just work out.  I, however, do not.  And it's quite impossible to just force yourself to be positive, happy-go-lucky and carefree.  Quite.  I mean, I know all parents worry about their children.  But not the way I do.  Trust me.  I'm loco.

Well, the downfall of working out in the evening is that it gets me pumped up and I have trouble falling asleep.  It's currently 10:00 and I am not sleepy despite waking up with Jane at 5:30 am (egad!) this morning.  But if I don't work out in the evenings, I just don't work out ever.  Them's the breaks.  I'm off to shower and then read a little.  Wish me luck on the whole sleep thing.  I only have ONE HALF of an Ativan left and no plan on how to score more.  No, I am not a drug addict.  It's just hard to get your doctor to prescribe you those little gems (which are safe for nursing, the best news I have had all year long, almost).  In fact, I treasure these little pills so much that I got a pill-cutter and cut mine in fourths just to last me longer.  I get the highest dose prescribed to me when really I don't need one that high.  I'm smart like that.

Here's my baby. 

Good night.