A weird night of weird ailments

After a long day at the office I was looking forward to an evening at home, getting the kids tucked in and going to bed early to recover from the previous night's lack of sleep... But no:

Weird ailment #1
Allison's earrings were bothering her so we decided to treat her ears and earrings with alcohol. She went to take the earrings out and soon came running down the hall crying. "The back is stuck inside!!"

Yep, the little rubber, stopper-like back was inside her earlobe. On both ears. I gave a good tug to the left earring and the whole earring, with the back still on the post, came through her ear. Ouch! Her right ear was a little infected, and my tugging trick did not work.

So, off to urgent care we go, where they assured me they've done this before. Seriously?

They applied numbing cream and after a half hour wait for it to take effect, the pediatrician squeezed the rubber back out of her earlobe. We were sent home with care instructions titled "Foreign object under the skin: removed" and advice from the doc to use "high quality" earrings for a while. That's nice, because we don't have any really high quality earrings, just the ones labeled "sensitive" from Justice.

We stop to get gas on the way home and see a Kohl's -- hey! we can run across the street to get high quality earrings before we head home. It's 9:30 PM by now, so what's another half hour? But no:

Weird ailment #2
As I finished pumping gas I feel excruciating pain in my right foot and discover my middle toe is out of its socket. I get back in the car and try to act cool, but I can hardly move. I see another car pull up to wait for my pump. But I've taken off my shoe and I'm trying to work my foot back into proper form. I can hardly extend my leg to the accelerator, and pressure on the pedal nearly brings me to tears. The people waiting for my pump get ticked and drive off.
Through the pain, I pull the car away from the gas station but can hardly push on the accelerator. The Kohl's parking lot is a welcome alternative to sitting on Main street.

After about 10 minutes of off-and-on pain, Allison is in the back seat praying for my foot to heal, and I'm on the phone with Matt to find a way to come get us. A few minutes later the pain subsides to dull ache. I think the toe is back in place. It's 9:55 now, and we decide to walk into Kohls to test out the toe. In what we can only assume was an answer to prayer, a friend was driving through the area at that time and called us, and offered to pick us up!

We killed time waiting for her by purchasing a pair of high quality earrings.

Since the pain had subsided, I felt like I could drive. My friend graciously agreed to follow me home in case I had another toe episode.

So, now I sit here with an ice pack on the offending foot, and Allison is sleeping soundly with her new high quality earrings in her ears.

Big Kid blues

Dear friends, what a summer this has been! It's been our first summer with two "big" kids to keep busy. We've done indoor soccer, tried out karate, seen a lot of movies, done a lot of swimming, took a trip to Colorado, and next week brings theater school for Allison (a natural at drama) and skateboarding camp for Joel (a natural at attempting dangerous feats).

And in just a few short weeks we'll be the parents of two school kids! I'm not sure why, but Joel entering kindergarten has me a tad more emotional than when Allison entered. When she went, it seemed like the natural thing to happen next. She was ready, I was ready, and when I walked her into the classroom, I was able to turn and leave without a whisper of nostalgia of the days gone by. But having Joel go off to that big world seems quite different now. As fretful and fitful as preschool-dom has been, I'm not ready to be done with it.

It's only a matter of time now before simple wonders aren't that wonderful any more, and wonders don't come simply... and blissfull ignorance learns too much too soon.

During our trip to Colorado we got to see the children marvel at the patterns in a rock, and name s'mores as the highlight of their week in the mountains. Such uncomplicated expectations are a far cry from Allison's growing curiosity about fashion, social status and... where babies come from.... We can see the world's influence in everything from the way she rolls her eyes, to the choices she makes (or doesn't make) at the dinner table, to lyrics she has memorized (to songs I've never heard of).

With Joel joining the ranks of the big kids, we're leaving behind this world of predictable and precious "firsts" -- first words, first steps, first bite, first big kid pants, big kid bed, first friend -- and trading it for some firsts that may be exciting (first loose tooth) and others that may be rather uncomfortable (first bully...).

Now it's Joel's turn to step out, and try to assimilate a new level of independence. I wonder what the first sign of his change will be -- you know, the first thing of "little Joel" that slips away, or the new thing that he takes on as a sign of his new, bigger identity.

I think with Allison it was when I saw her walk confidently into that big building, completely sure of herself as she went on her way to somewhere - without me. I remember thinking, "Shouldn't she need me to hold her hand? open a door? show her the way?"

No, she didn't. I remember my heart sinking a little in my chest.

I suppose this line we're walking now -- between dependence and independence -- is one we'll walk often, and it will look different at each stage of their lives from now through the tween and teen years. For now I suppose I can enjoy the little time I have left with the balance tipped my direction and savor the requests for assistance, knowing all too soon I won't be needed to reach, tie, open, shut, buckle, push, pour, wash, or choose for them. And I also suppose I can look forward to what it may be like to fill their big needs as much as these little ones. I hope that all these years of reaching, opening, buckling, wiping, etc., will offer me the privledge of hearing about and helping with struggles that go beyond the physical limitations of a preschool body.