Thanks to the McMarketing geniuses of the world, our kids can be obsessed with characters way beyond their viewing age. Think Spiderman, Hulk, Star Wars, Batman - movies no four year old should possibly be able to view, lest we never get our beds to ourselves again. But somehow McDonald's still has a toy for them. ick.
Anyway, we were in the Gap last week because I had a coupon begging to be used and my husband was at a baseball game for the night (read - I wasn't up for four more hours in my home alone with two kids). Owen spotted the new Junk Food t-shirts - you know, the cool old school ones pre-washed so many times that if you sneezed on them a hole would surely appear? There he was - Darth - in all his glory. On a cream colored tee.
For those who have yet to spend a day with Owen - let's just say he's akin to an F4 tornado when it comes to a mess. A cream colored $22 Darth tee would be multiple shades of brown and blue by the end of the hour. Wasn't happening. Oh but he wanted it so. Still not happening.
Then came last Tuesday. We enrolled in a Food Allergy study with Children's Memorial Hospital in Chicago. Apparently, Children's is hoping to become the national research center for food allergies. They are taking 1,000 families and testing them yearly via a scratch and blood test to see if there are genetic markers for allergies. And some other stuff too that I'm too tired to remember right now. Owen's peanut allergy is such a severe one that it is caused with even tiny inhaled amounts, so they were not able to skin/scratch test him because he would be "exposed" and therefore potentially have a bad reaction. In retrospect, this was more than good - sitting still for 15 minutes - well, remember the F4 thing.
I am a woman who believes that being up front and truthful is the best way to handle most any situation. Perhaps I should just reconsider the timing of my disclosures. Owen knew way too soon he was getting a shot. For two days he cried at the thought of them sticking him. So in an effort to bribe him for bravery, I promised the Darth Vader shirt for a good visit to the study. I knew this would still not calm his fears, but would at least give him a pleasant outcome to look forward to (and something nice for us to talk about instead of the shots).
Fast forward to the study (which technically is rewind now for you). Tiny room, lots of people, a million questions, the New York Post (doing a story on the family ahead of us), hungry baby, thirsty kid, blah blah blah. You surely get the picture. I guess if you're gonna do something unpleasant, may as well go all out, huh? The nurses allowed us to at least keep Owen and Lyla in separate rooms for the blood draw. Kevin went with Owen and I with Lyla. Really, there was no good choice bad choice here, because both were equally terrible. I'll spare the details, but let's just say that finding a vein in a chubby armed eight month old is a challenge for even a world class children's hospital. I can only imagine what moms with very ill children go through on a daily basis there. My heart sinks for and with them.
For Owen, the physical pain was very minimal. It was the fear and anticipation that was overwhelming for his little spirit. And as I watch and listen - knowing the outcome will be relatively painless, I can't help but think God must somehow feel this way about me too. I kick and scream about so much, when really the pain is so minimal in the end. Well, at least most of the time.
I've been working on this post for three days now and still feel I have ten more chapters to go, but I'm going to stop for now and perhaps post more later today. As for the title of the post, I had grand intentions of tying in Darth's words with those God so often reminds me of Himself, but well....sorry. I have a million things swirling in my head and sometimes this blog becomes more of a spot to think outloud for me. It doesn't always make sense on the screen. Read what you want. Just don't avoid me in the grocery store because my kids look dirty in scary cream colored shirts.
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