Less FB, More WP

Hey listen, I’m taking a step back from Facebook for a while.  (I will post on there that I posted on here.  I’m well aware of the irony, so there is no need to point it out.)  I’m sick of being bombarded by ads telling me where to go, what to buy, the clothes to wear, and what I’m doing wrong in regards to raising my kid.  I mean, it’s all well and good to have opinions, and goodness knows I have my own!  It’s just that, well…I don’t know.  Quit telling me what to do! 

SO! This isn’t my, “I’m deleting my Facebook account, so please tell me not to go” post.  Not at all.  I’m still going to check in and post once in a while.  I’m just not going to do those things nearly as often.  For those of you who are lamenting over a lack of updates about Rowan or how much homework I have, FRET NOT!  I’ll probably treat this blog at my Facebook and leave shorter posts or pictures here.  I may protect some of the more personal stuff with a password, but I will share that password with you for a small fee.  Or a baked good.  

Interesting fact: I’m sitting at my desk wondering how much crap  I can spew to up my word and page count.  Perhaps I’ve been writing too many papers lately?  SEE! A post about how much homework I have!  Now do you trust me that I won’t leave you wondering about mundane stuff about my life?

Now for some random photos:

43 useless points to the first person to name the city this mug is from.  Also, quit making me miss said city.  You know who you are!



It’s shameful how much Playmobil this boy has.  (This isn’t including vehicles and buildings, though in my defense, most of it was bought used off of Ebay by my mother.)




Being a mom is scary.  Nobody tells you that part.  You hear about the sleep deprivation, the never  getting a moment alone, the wanting to pull your hair out, and about the overwhelming amount of love.

Last night I had to take Rowan to the emergency room.  He was hardly breathing, and gasping for air.  He woke up from a nap in the middle of a severe asthma attack.  As soon as I heard that rattly gasp, followed by a weak cry, I knew what was happening.  I scooped Rowan out of bed, and had Bapa hold him while I set up the nebulizer.  Rowan cried through the breathing treatment, but I didn’t mind.  As long as he was crying, he was breathing. 

It didn’t take long to realize that the breathing treatment wasn’t working, and I made a very fast decision to take him to the hospital.  We loaded up in record time, and were on our way.  The entire time Rowan coughed and struggled to draw air into his lungs.  I wondered if I should have called an ambulance, but we made it.

Once inside it didn’t take very long for the triage staff to realize that Rowan needed attention right away.  We were in the waiting area for a grand total of two minutes, which is pretty much a miracle. 

Minutes after getting a room, they had Rowan started on another breathing treatment, followed by a round of steroids, which worked wonders.  He started breathing normally following the treatments, and even squeezed out a smile or two.  Untill it came time for the tests…x-rays, throat swabs, nasal rinse to test for RSV and flu.  Thankfully everything came back negative. 

Final diagnosis?  Asthma attack/viral croup.

By the time we were leaving the hospital, Rowan was playing tackle football, coloring, and being a general nuisance by peeking under the curtains of his neighbors.  It was apparent he would make a full recovery.

This wasn’t the first time he and I have been through this.  Last year, at about this time, he had a similar attack, though not nearly as severe.  It was heart-breaking and nerve-wracking to see my child suffer like that.  I didn’t know what was happening, if he was going to be okay, and what they were going to do to him.  In other words, I was scared.

Last year's trip to the emergency room.

The unknown is frightening, especially when it comes to their futures.  No parent wants their child to suffer-mentally or physically.  In the chaos of the moment showing fear is not an option.  It’s hard to assure Rowan that everything was going to be okay, when in reality, I wasn’t sure if it was. 

Loving someone so much is risky.  When all your love, energy, and time is poured into one little being, losing that being becomes your biggest fear.  They don’t tell you about that.  They also don’t tell you that despite how frightened you will get, it’s worth it.