blessed beyond measure

I had a bad feeling on Tuesday night. That whole heart thing. Turns out my heart was right. As expected, we had to fight hard against Trey to even take the tiny sip of milk they offered him, and I basically ended up pouring it down his throat as he screamed an gagged. Maybe five minutes later, the rash and hives began appearing. His face swelled up, one eye all but swelled shut, and Trey dissolved into coughing and sneezing fits. So the nurse who came in with the second round of milk for the challenge, walked out of the room and back in with a hefty dose of Benadryl. Then after a half hour of the Benadryl not even touching the reaction, Trey was given a strong antihistamine and some steriods to help recover. The doctor seemed just stupefied by the whole thing. Immediately after Trey consumed the first milk, and before the reaction began, he came in and discussed the plans for the rest of the visit, giving Trey increasing amounts of milk every twenty minutes. He truly thou...

You know that feeling? The one when you're about to poison your child? No? So it's just me then. We took Trey to the allergist back in April, after consuming a form of dairy did not produce any noticeable reaction in him. A dramatic skin prick test ensued, the results of which were surprising. Trey's allergy level to peanuts has increased substantially. Three years ago it was labeled a mild allergy. Mild no more. Milk, the true reason we had him re-tested, was a different story. His bloodwork level showed a decrease in severity from a level 4 to a level 2. Impressive. Impressive enough to the doctor that we were scheduled for a milk challenge. On Wednesday morning, we will go to the hospital, Trey will drink milk, and we'll see what happens. I am so scared. My head knows that this doctor has been practicing for longer than I've been alive, and he would not do something like this unless he truly, truly expected a good outcome. After all, he made sure...

I have been trying to write this post for ten days. Over the last ten days we had another damaging storm that caused a gigantic tree to sideswipe the house. We lost power again for several hours. We canned 37 quarts of vegetables and then watched our garden, pummeled by storms and zapped by intense heat and drought, die a slow and agonizing death. We spent three exhausting days completely overhauling our unfinished basement, getting rid of or donating almost ten years of unused stuff. It's been quite a stretch. And that is my excuse for why Trey's birthday party pics are late. We won't mention the other excuse, the one that causes me to get all weepy and snatch a 50-pound kid up into a cradle hold. So the forecast high for the day of Trey's party was 102. That's right. So putt-putt effectively flew out the window. Don't worry, we took him the night before, and were highly entertained. We opted instead to use the church gym and have riding toys avail...

Today, my Trey Isaiah is five years old. How? How?? He is a handsome sweetheart who wins over everyone he meets with his gigantic smile and thick eyelashes. For the most part, at least away from home, he is quite polite and considerate. He is musical, loves to dance, and does a killer version of "Heartbreak Hotel". Says he wants to learn to play guitar like Daddy, but has no desire whatsoever for his Mama to teach him to play piano. Is just a bit Type A. Thrives on a schedule, loves repetition and knowing what to expect. Worries himself silly over what times certain things will be done. Since preschool ended, Trey has changed quite a bit. The loss of socialization and mental stimulation has created a monster. He is a spaz. Talks. All. Day. Long. Allllll. Daaaaaaaaay. Loooooooonnnnnng. Flits here and there and everywhere, following around whoever he can find, questioning. "What are you going to do now? Why? Can I come with you? What are you go...

We had a storm on Friday night. And that may be the biggest understatement of my adult life. The experts call it a derecho, a land hurricane. This is one of the things we learned after the storm had passed. After one of the scariest imminent-danger-type experiences ever. It was a triple-digit evening spent watering our parched and wilting garden. As darkness fell, there was some lightning over the mountains, miles away. All of a sudden, the sound of a freight train. The wind came rushing in at 75 MPH, the power flickered off, and stuff started flying through the air. Aden was too scared to go to bed, Trey was with his Nana and Granddad (who were struggling to get home, driving through the whipping winds), and so we just sat at the kitchen table with candles burning and Brandon gathering the sad pieces of our emergency kit. Lightning provided the only glimpse of what was going on outside. Well, lightning and the repeated sounds of crashing debris. And so we would wait until ...