But, I'm not ready yet

Mason is having his first drop-off play date tomorrow and I am having a minor, ok, Major panic attack over it.

Mason has had a bunch of play dates over the years, and even a few with new families we have met through preschool. They have always been with me present, mostly because me and the other Mom want to chat and get to know one another. But seriously, I have never had a Mom ask me to drop off my child at their house. Until now. And well actually, she never really asked, but more assumed.

For about a week we had been playing phone tag in trying to set up a play date with our sons. Finally we met up at a school function. This was where she said, "so do you want me to just take him to my house after school or would you prefer to drop him off?" I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped to the floor and my eyes bugged out. I felt blindsided as I struggled to regain my composure. We had already agreed to the play date and even though I am not at all ready to let my son run off without me, how could I back out now? I feel really uncomfortable sending my son to the home of someone I barely know. He is only five years old. I know most of the parents in Mason's class have multiple kids and the ones in his class are usually their second or third so they have been there and done that. But he is my first, my baby, and this is a HUGE step for me. I'm sure they are a wonderful family and from the brief moments I have talked with her, I've determined she is very nice. The fact remains, we've only had a few brief encounters, so I don't know her all that well yet. I don't know any of the parents in his class very well for that matter. At least not well enough to let my son go to their house alone.

Mason, of course, is thrilled about going to this house because he says they have Legos and he is really into building with Legos right now. I explained to him that I will not be there and it would be a long time without Mom (2 hours, and that was me cutting it down). Still he doesn't seem to be apprehensive about it at all. I seem to be the only one with reservations and suffering from fear, panic and worry. What if he gets hurt and I am not there? What if they allow him to do things that I find inappropriate? What do I do if their discipline methods are completely different than ours? Will she let them play outside unattended? What if he gets uncomfortable or upset or bored and wants to go home, will she call me and let me know? I told him that he should tell the Mom if he wants to leave and have her call me and I'll come pick him up but still, I have all these horrors running through my head. I've never been to their house, I've never seen my son and her son interact or play with one another, so I have no idea how well they get along. This is all so new and uncharted territory for me and for him. I have no idea what to expect, nor do I know what is the protocol in these situations.

I mentioned this on Mason's birthday, with all the parents wanting to drop off their 4 and 5 year old children at my house for his party, and this wasn't the first time I ran into this. At what age is it appropriate to expect other parents to watch our kids for two hours while we run off? Even more, is 5 too young for a drop off play date? Especially if you do not know them that well? I want my son to feel independent and confidence in not having me around but at the same time, he is only in preschool. I have such anxiety and feel so uncomfortable about the whole situation, yet I feel I can't insist I be there or back out for fear of being seen as rude or over protective. I'm almost trying to find any excuse, like bad behavior, to call up and cancel. Ahh! Please tell me I am not the only one who feels this way?

So how do I deal with this anxiety? I'm not sure. I could very well be that Mom who sits in her car for two hours, parked across the street.

Ticked off

On the first day of summer things went totally wrong.

After a morning of dealing with no school and wondering what to do, I left Mason downstairs to watch Backyardigans while Sophie and I went upstairs to take a shower so I could get my head awake.

Sophie and I were giggling up a storm, sitting on the shower floor. I was teaching her the wheels on the bus song. Mason came walking in and announced very happily, "we have our first watermelons." Moments later he came back in and asked if he could take a shower too. I hesitated and then after seeing his disappointment, I caved. He undressed and walked into the shower. I told him to get his hair wet and wash up and that's when I noticed a black spot under his arm. I told him to hold up and come outside. Glasses off I couldn't really see but I knew it was some sort of bug and wanted to get a tissue or something and get it off before Mason freaked out. I tried to flick it a bit with toilet paper and that's when I stopped to get a closer look. Squinting my eyes hard I stared at it and that's when I thought, oh crap. I think this is a tick.

Shower still running, Sophie quietly playing in it, I left Mason standing in the bathroom holding his arm up. Soaking wet and naked I ran to the top of the stairs and yelled for Fred. No answer. That's when I screamed as loud as I could so he could hear where ever he was and he came running in from outside. I hurriedly told him that I think Mason has a tick on him and I am not sure what to do, I don't have my glasses. He confirmed it was a tick and said he just saw our neighbor and ran out to talk with her. Our neighbor's daughter has Lyme disease. Has since she was about Mason's age. It's been a horrible disease and we've spent the last three years listening to the stories from our neighbor. I immediately thought about this and tried to stay calm, but all I could think was my poor little boy standing naked in the bathroom with this tick stuck to his armpit. How he had his whole life ahead of him and how this moment could possibly take all that away.

It felt like forever. Waiting there for Fred to come back. I didn't know what to do. Was there something I should be doing right now? My mind was going a mile a minute and I couldn't turn it off. My hands were shaking so bad and Mason started crying. I tried to calm him but I wasn't sure myself and Fred was taking forever. Mason kept crying and saying he wanted daddy and I felt helpless and scared and I started crying too. I couldn't just leave both the kids in the house and search for Fred outside, I knew he was getting information on how to properly take the tick off and what to do afterward, but my god the two of us were just standing there with no idea what was going on or what to do. And the seconds went by so slowly. IT WAS TERRIFYING.

Finally Fred came back but he wouldn't tell me what he was doing or what needed to be done and I was freaking out. I just wanted to know. It was killing me not having this knowledge and my son's health in danger. He tried to kick me out but Mason really started to freak when Fred got the tweezers so I ran back in and held Mason as tight as I could while Fred removed the tick (and some of Mason's skin with it) and placed it in a Ziplock bag. Mason was in tears, Sophie was trying to figure out what was going on, still in the shower, and I was sobbing. My whole body shaking in horrid sobs. I didn't know if my little boy was going to be OK or not.

Moments later our neighbor came knocking on the door to check the situation. We all quickly got some clothes on Mason and myself and went downstairs. She talked to us for like 3o minutes, giving us the website of a lab we can send the tick off to in order to test for Lyme disease. Arming us with what to look out for in the next days, weeks, etc. The bulls-eye rash, any fatigue, or irritability, etc. It was a bit comforting to have her there talking with us. Looking back she can see the warning signs she missed with her daughter. I hope her experience helped us.

So many things I am trying to stay hopeful about. Hoping the test the lab does on the tick comes back negative. Hoping no rash develops. The ticks head was not imbedded in Mason's skin, nor was it engorged so I am hoping that is a good sign. Trying to stay hopeful that this tick was not on Mason longer than the few moments yesterday morning before spotting it. We didn't notice anything before then, but then again we weren't looking either and it had been quite a while since the kids had bathed; I hate admitting that.

In the meantime we are observing the bite everyday, checking the kids for ticks on a regular basis after playing in the yard. I called our pest service about getting the yard sprayed for ticks. And emailed our pediatrician about the whole situation and thought I'd mention it to him at Sophie's check up on Monday.

I don't normally pray, but last night I found myself knelt beside my bed, head bowed, hands crossed and through my tears I spoke; "Dear Heavenly Father..." I prayed, and I've been doing that a lot since yesterday. I know, we as parents, can't protect our children from everything. There will always be dangers out there. As a mother, I find it is the hardest thing to accept that harm will come to my childen in some form or another. Be it a broken heart, broken bone, or an illness. I know that I can't keep them in a bubble, locked in the house, but I feel like I want to do that sometimes. To hold them, protect them and promise nothing will ever happen to them. It is these moments that I recall that scene in Finding Nemo when Marlin, Nemo's father, says that he promised he would never let anything happen to his son and Dory replies, "well that's a silly thing to promise. You can't never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him." Dory was right. I see that. But, how do I ease the fear, the pain, the constant worry, the guilt? How do I let go? How do I go on with life knowing the dangers yet still find comfort and peace? I need to know that it is all going to be OK. I need to have reassurance and knowledge. I know all to well how fragile and short life really is. I have seen and experienced my share of loss.

So as I sit here, my family in bed asleep, I think about how I wish I could go back to Thursday. Before any of this happened and prevent it, but know I can't. I think of how much I have prayed for the health of my son. I think, I need to say one more prayer. A prayer for strength. To find my strength to get through this no matter the outcome, and to learn from it all.

I may sound like one neurotic mother right now, I know my husband thinks I am, but I just needed to get this out. I needed to talk and have someone listen. So if you read all of this, I say, Thanks.

With that, I am off to bed with the hope I can get some sleep tonight.

it's in his genes

Deep down we always knew this day would come.

Still, it's scary, because you are never quite prepared for that moment. When you are walking in the parking lot, holding your son's hand, suppressing the panic and fear as you make your way to the doctors office, and his little voice, gasping for air, pleads for you to slow down even though you are already walking slow.

I've only known asthma as an outsider, observing those in my life who suffer from the disease. So when I reached down and picked up my son, carrying him into the building as fast as I could, I bit my lip hard, in order to fight back the tears. Step after step, I listened to the horrible wheezing and short, shallow breaths and thanked the lord that Fred was home to recognize the symptoms and know to call the doctor. Thankful that our pediatrician made time to see Mason.

This was yet another one of those most painful moments I've had to face over the last four years on this adventure called motherhood. Sitting in Walgreens, waiting for the albuterol, prednisolone and to become the owner of our very own nebulizer, I wondered how different his life would be from this day forward. Would I be paranoid every time he goes to school or my moms or anywhere I am not? Would I sit up all night listening to him breathe when he gets a simple cold? Will I worry about putting him in sports? Then I am reminded that Fred developed asthma around the age of 5 and he played soccer well into his adulthood. Now, I can't remember the last time he had an attack or I really worried about his breathing, thanks to Advair. This and the many, many friends who have children who are on nebulizers and they are living extremely active lives, playing t-ball and other sports.

Mason, having suffered through sitting still for the nebulizer treatments was non-stop at Taco Night. Running, jumping in the bounce house for hours, only sitting down long enough to eat some mac n cheese and cake before he was off again. You would have had no idea he was rushed to the doctors 24 hours before and almost passed out during the treatment because of the adult dose he needed.

I must remind myself that he is going to be fine. At this point, it is believed to be allergy related and since being on the prednisolone and claritin he hasn't needed to use the nebulizer in days. Which should make Sophie happy. She is terrified of the whole thing. The noise, the mask on Mason's face, she's concerned about her brother, which I find so endearing. We'll see how he does once off the steroid, come Wednesday. If he has another one, then we put him on preventative medicine. Seeing as Fred has asthma, as do his brothers, and that Mason had eczema as a baby and suffers from allergies it almost seems inevitable.

He will be able to live a normal life. I must keep repeating that to myself. Still I can't help but see him through different eyes. Life just feels totally different somehow. But as always in true Mason style, you'd never suspect a thing.

Bugged out

Not sure how it started this time.  Usually it begins with me seeing a spider (or nasty bug), screaming my head off, Fred running to my rescue thinking I'm dying only to find out it's just a little bug, then him getting upset at me for acting like a lunatic.   This ultimately results in the periodic conversation about my "irrational fears," according to Fred.  Namely my fear of spiders and most things buggy.  

This particular time we were in the car on the way home from Lowe's, no bugs in site that I recall. Fred was mentioning that we should go to the zoo and see the spider exhibit.  My response was a hysterical, "HELL NO!  They are all crawling free in there.  Are you crazy!?"  Fred just rolls his eyes and tells me not to push my fears onto Mason.  I give a stern look, knowing that I am just trying to protect my child from the blood sucking horrors that are nasty creepy ass spiders.  Fred of course tries to assure me that the exhibit is perfectly safe, but deep down I am not convinced.  He tells me that my payback will be Mason will growing up to be some kind of a spider connoisseur.  I tell him that he won't be into spiders if we don't expose him to them.  Now home he is taking Mason's jacket off and tells him in a jokingly sort of tone, "Mommy's bugged out by buggy stuff."  Mason erupts into laughter.  The full belly laugh that causes him to suffer from hiccups for the next 20 minutes.  Fred continues to repeat the phrase with Mason cracking up each time.  I can't help laughing at Mason's belly laugh but I am so NOT AMUSED by their enjoyment at my expense.  

It's getting late so we head up stairs for the nightly routine.  

Sit on potty.

Brush teeth.

Put on night time pull-up and P.J.'s

Get ba-ba

Climb into bed and read a book.

Halfway up the stairs Mason starts to repeat Fred's hysterical phrase.  It comes out, "bug out my buggy stuff."  Fred is laughing.  All through reading The Going to Bed Book by Sandra Boynton, Mason is repeating the phrase.  Fred trying to hold it together and me ready to just walk out of the room.   

Now heading downstairs after putting Mason to bed I seethe to Fred in a loud whisper, "You are an evil, evil person!"  He looks shocked exclaming, "WHAT!  It's not my fault he finds that funny."  Then from somewhere upstairs I hear a little voice repeating, "bug out my buggy stuff.  Bug out my buggy stuff."  I instantly snap my head in Fred's direction, eyes wide as I can make them and point up the stairs.  Fred is in hysterics, he can't help it.   

I admit it was a bit amusing, but I was not ready to give up my annoyance of the fact that my husband was encouraging our son to make fun of me.  He tells me that the Briggs family tradition continues.  He is referring to his awful brother who, in high school, used to find spiders in their basement and save them for when I came over just so he could terrorize me.  I turn to leave when Fred stops me, seeing that I am started to get mad.  "Hey I am just trying to give you something to blog about babe."  Gee honey, thanks so much for thinking of me.  

The following morning, at the butt crack of dawn, Mason comes walking into our bedroom and climbs into bed with us.  After a few moments what do you think I heard?

"Mommy, bug out by buggy stuff!"  *Fred silently trying to hide his chuckle*

Thanks guys.  I love you both too!!!