40 posts tagged “avery”

In March of 2003, I started getting fat.  Not really fat, just a little chubby around the mid-section.  I wasn't surprised since I was working at a job where they catered in from restaurants every day and my eating habits hadn't been the best.  I vowed to eat only salads and do more situps.  Then I realized that my chub didn't feel like mushy fat.  It felt a little more solid.  Like maybe a uterus.  "Ha!" I thought to myself, not really amused.  No way I could be pregnant.  Allie was still a few months shy of her first birthday.  And besides, breasfeeding is great birth control, right?

I bought a pregnancy test from the drugstore, while mentally cataloguing any possible symptoms.  Was I tired?  Well, yes.  I had a teething infant at home and I was working full-time.  Of course I was tired.  Nauseous?  Not really.  I'd been really sick in February with the same flu as everyone else.  Sore boobs?  Lookup "Nursing a teething infant" and you'll know why I dismissed that one as well.

I unwrapped the test stick at home in my bathroom and that second line reddend almost before I could pee on it.  I'm surprised it didn't rearrange itself to spell out "Duh, Ashley" and slap me in the face. Okay, pregnant wasn't bad.  They say you get bigger faster with your second pregnancy, so I figured I would be about 6-9 weeks along.  I had no missed period to calculate by since I was nursing, so I did my best guess and figured I'd be in the market for an October/November baby.  Definitely doable.

When I went to the doctor for the standard first appointment, I figured we'd just photocopy all my answers from the last time I was pregnant (what, like a WEEK ago?) and that we might try and hear the heartbeat.  As the doctor palpated my abdomen, she raised an eyebrow in my direction and said "Have you felt anything move?" and started squirting that warm ultrasound goo on my tummy.  I stammered out that no, I think I'd know what a moving fetus felt like and that I'd just been really gassy thankyouverymuch.  Then she put the ultrasound wand against my skin and I saw my baby.  "Oh," was about all I could manage as Dr. L smiled and said "Nope. That's the baby moving."

I went through the entire catalogue of human emotions in approximately 5 seconds as she measured different parts of the baby to figure out how far along I was.  I'll never forget watching her drag that circle on the screen to measure the head circumference.  As the circle got bigger, the EDD in the corner of the screen went from November (Cool! A Thanksgiving baby!) back to October (Even better! We'll share a birthday!) and then into September (Um, okay.  That's pretty soon.) before settling in at the middle of August.   "You're 17 weeks and 5 days along.  And it's a girl."  I always wanted two girls.  I just didn't know I'd be getting my wish so soon.

And as soon as mid/late August seemed, I was even more shocked when my water broke in early July.  A lazy Sunday napping with Allie turned into a frantic rush to the hospital and worries that the baby would come too soon.  Luckily, I wasn't having contractions, so my doctor was content to keep me in the hospital on bedrest for a few more weeks while we let the her cook a little longer.  She wasn't quite done getting her lungs ready for their big debut, so we bought her a few more weeks. 

I spent those weeks in the hospital surrounded by baby name books as we hadn't picked out a name.  Her father didn't like anything I picked out, and I thought all of his suggestions sounded like stripper names.  My names were perfectly reasonable.  Cordelia, Avalon, Zoe, Amelia.  He hated them all.  Finally, the night before I was induced, I finally decided.  "Her name will be Avery.  Here are 3 middle names to choose from."  And he actually picked my favorite one.  Colette.  It was French and meant "victory of the people" which I thought would bode well for the fight ahead of her as a preemie.

She was born 5 years ago today and hasn't stopped fighting.  Her struggles as a preemie were blessedly few, and her health concerns going forward are limited to asthma and allergies.  But her spirit is absolutely victorious.  She is the quickest to smile.  She lives to make people laugh.  Her voice and mannerisms are certifiably the cutest thing in the whole state of Texas (Unless cousing Charleigh is visiting.  Then it's a tie.)   She is a talented artist, loves to sing and dance, would sell her soul for all the Care Bears in the world, and she loves everybody.   She is absolutely the most joyful little girl I've ever met, and I'm so proud that she is mine.

Happy birthday Miss Avery.  Promise to stay a kid forever, okay?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See what I mean about trying to write?  I'm going to stop that now before anyone puts an eye out.  Instead, lets look at pretty pretty pictures together, shall we?

 

Thursday, Linz and I got to go to an exclusive bridal event at Hotel Derek.  I'm not having my wedding there, but I'm down for free hors d'oevures and martinis.  We practiced different wedding planning related gestures to use while talking about other things.  And we looked adorable and shadowy.

 

We had a couple of martinis and came back to my place to eat dinner before having a girls' night.  Getting ready is always fun.  Beware of flared nostrils.  They are massive and deadly.  Do not try this at home.

 

Ron took the obligatory pre-launch photo.  But Linz and I watch too much America's Next Top Model, so we were doing commercial, catalogue, and couture poses, while giving good neck and - of course - smiling with our eyes.  Shown here is couture.  (Linz is a national sternum and collarbone supermodel, clearly.)

 

Yes we're very silly.  But not quite as silly as Ron who was trying to attack me with a blood pressure cuff.  Sphygmomanometers: As fun to say as they are to play with.

 

We had a fun evening, which was much needed by all. My mom watched the kids for us, so Friday I watched them for her so she could recuperate.

Saturday, the girls and I went to the new park in downtown Houston called Discovery Green.  It's trying to be the Central Park of Houston.  It's usually really really fun, but it was pretty crowded on Saturday, and my little clones were too anxious to play very much.  They were however eager to smile pretty :)

 

We also got to check out these half sphere thingies (their technical name, of course).  Supposedly, one person sits in one, the other person in the other, and through some sort of sound wave trick, you can hear each other using normal voices even though they appear to be very far away.  Once we were there, I discovered the magical trick is proximity, as they're not all that far apart.  I was underwhelmed.  But they make for a nice picture backdrop anyway...

 

 

 

Sunday was church and babysitting.  Linz took Cayden to his first Astro's game and baby Prestyn stayed with us.  I've never gotten to take many pictures of her, so I indulged.  She is at an adorable age where she's just learned to clap and is quite proud of herself.  I love 10 month olds.  If I could give birth and have them instantly be this age, I'd have a dozen more.

 

 

 

 

She also has the prettiest eyelashes.  I'm not entirely unconvinced that she isn't hiding an eyelash curler in her crib matress and furiously crimping away during naptime.  She moves a ton so it's hard to capture the majesty of her eyelashes, but I gave it a good shot anyway...

 

 

 

I'm off to finish my weekend by cooking turkey spaghetti, playing Webkinz with the girls, watching the Simpsons, and trying to not think about all the wedding stuff I need to be thinking about.

I'm not too sure on what "liverty" details, but I'll take wishes over justice any day of the week.  With my wishes, I can wish for justice!

Avery's version of the pledge of allegiance, followed by a bilingual musical rendition of the days of the week.

Okay, so Ron was right.  They burp like frat boys.  But they do it in such a cute way!  And they almost always say "Excuse me".  And they don't fart at the dinner table.  Anymore.  Manners are such a subjective thing, you know?

 

Because I have such wonderful and giving friends, we got the opportunity to see Sugarland perform at the Houston Rodeo and to participate in the Meet and Greet beforehand.  Allie is a huge fan after seeing them perform this summer with Kenny Chessney.  She sings "Stay" to her kindergarten teacher which always gets her some much needed attention.  Avery loves anything that Allie tells her to, so she was excited as well.  Ron?  Well, he was napping in the corner 30 seconds before this picture was taken, but at least his eyes are open.  And aparently I thought I was a contestant in America's Next Top Misplaced Beauty Pageant Contestant which is the only reason I can account for the strangeness of my pose.  Jennifer and Kristian are beautiful, gracious, and talented as always.  Kristian was a good sport when Avery said "Hi! My name is Avery and I'm four.  How old are you?"  He explained he was turning 7 pretty soon and was hoping to get a good present.  I promised I'd put in a good word with his wife so maybe he could get that bicycle without training wheels.  :)

Ron was ambitious enough to teach the girls how to play "Go Fish."  I'm not good at teaching things.  I can explain things and analyze things and create things, but teaching frustrates me.  Ron is much better at this than I am.  Allie caught on quickly and is an enthusiastic game player.

Allie:  "Do you have any threes?"

Me:  "Nope.  Go fish."

Allie:  "Awww, man!  Are you kidding me?  Alright..."

Me:  "Do you have any sevens."

Allie:  "N-O-P nope!  Go fish!"

Me:  "Oh look!  I got a seven, so I have a matching pair."

Allie:  "Woohoo!   Awesome!"

 

Avery wasn't quite as quick on the uptake.  Actually, I think she learned it just as quickly, but was unimpressed by the lack of creativity.  She wanted a game without limits.  She wanted something prettier and more exciting.

Me:  "Do you have any tens?"

Avery:  "Um, here.  Check."  Holds out all of her cards for me to see.  She has no tens.  I advise her to not show all her cards.  She flops around a bit and I agree to lay all her cards flat on the table so we can play a practice game.

Me:  "Your turn, hon."

Avery:  "Do you have any sevens?"

Me:  "No sweetie.  And neither do you.  You have to ask me for something that you need."

Avery:  "Do you have any cookies?"

Me:  "No sweetie.  Like you have to ask me for a card that you have so you can make a pair.  Ask me for a queen."

Avery:  "Do you have a princess?"

Me: ......

Avery:  giggling "I mean a queen?"

Me:  "Why yes I do!  Here you go!  Now you've got a pair and now it's my turn.  Do you have a jack?"  I can see that she doesn't so I spare her the duty of answering and go fish.

Avery:  "My turn!  Do you have a twenty-nine?"

Me:  "Um, honey.  The cards are single digits.  You can't combine them and ask for the big number.  Ask for a two or a nine."

Avery:  "Do you have a basketball?"

Me:  Giving up.  "Go fish."

Avery's new allergist recommended a complete allergy testing for her.  She had a blood workup and a limited skin test when she was 2 years old, but the new allergist thought it was time for a more comprehensive panel since her asthma has been out of control lately.  When he initially described the appointment to me, the doctor said that basically I would drop her off for 2 hours while they applied the numbing cream. Then they'd park her in front of a movie while it sunk in, and eventually poke her with a large number of small needles.  I was encouraged to run errands, get my nails done, plant a tree, whatever.  Bottom line, they did not want me there. 

Which I understood.  Some moms are very queasy when it comes to their child going through painful medical procedures.  I have friends who sob hysterically at each immunization their child gets, because you know shots hurt.  As for me, I'm pretty sure polio hurts even more, so do what you have to do for the sake of my childrens' health.  Even when Avery had to be catheterized as a baby for a kidney problem I didn't blink.  Of course, I was also disappointed that I couldn't witness my own epidural being administered, so maybe I'm just a little jaded to medical procedures given my constant exposure to them since birth.

Ahem.  Anyway, when we went in for Avery's testing they had clearly changed the policy and I was present for the entire thing.  We started by picking out an adorable "XYZ Allergy Center Shot Victim" shirt for her to wear.  When the nurse asked Avery if she wanted red, blue, or army green Avery responded with "Mom's boyfriend used to be in the Army a long time ago and he was a soldier and has lots of cool Army blankets."  I knew it was going to be one of those visits where she charmed every single person within earshot with her humorous tales and random ramblings in that little chipmunk voice of hers.  I told the nurse we'd take red and we had a seat to get her arms buttered up with lidocaine.

Which was great.  The nurse spread it on with tongue depressors like she was frosting a cake.  Meanwhile Avery shared stories about her new step-brothers, my wedding plans, her fondness of Care Bears, and my particularly favorite moment when she loudly proclaimed "Mommy don't gots a job anymore!!!"  Thanks for that hon.  Really.  Afterwards, her arms were wrapped in saran wrap and we were told to return in one hour.  Off to Target we went, to many odd stares.  She endured the awkwardness with her signature glee and I rewarded her with a "cherry sloooshee" from Sonic.  Isn't she adorable?

 

I figured that surely when we returned I would be released.  Honestly, I just wanted to sit in the waiting room and read a book.  I knew they could do their job without my help and I didn't want to be in the way.  Instead they said "Hop on your mom's lap, honey pie" and there I sat.

As they peeled off the plastic wrap, I braved a peek at the allergen sheet.  I counted 80 total.  They were going to poke her with 80 small needles.  Awesome.  One nurse loaded up Barbie Rapunzel in the DVD player while the other one began infecting all the needles with the offensive allergens.  I alternately wondered how I could balance my new Stephen King book on my lap and how exactly the procured the allergens.  One was cockroach.  Were they really going to poke my daughter with essence of cockroach?  Ew.

While the needles were getting dirty, nurse came over to write on Avery's forearms.  She made 10 numbered rows down, with four dashed lines across.  One set on each arm totalled 80.  Avery was complacent throughout this process until needle time began.  "I don't want to take a needle," she said.  And while I opened my mouth to soothe her and assure her it was for the greater good, the nurse intercepted me and told her there would be no needles.  Um, hi.  I'm the mom and I don't really dig lying to my daughter, thanks.  But then I reasoned that they do this many times a day so maybe the know the best way to proceed.  She told Avery that they would be making dots on her arm, and asked Avery to help count them.

They started on her right forearm and Aves was quite happy to demonstrate her counting skills.  Nurse was mercifully quick, but I noticed Avery's voice getting quieter and shaky the closer we got to 40.  When nurse finished she said "See! You didn't even feel that did you?" and Avery meekly warbled "Yes I did and it hurt."

"That's okay!" said nurse.  "Let's get started on your left arm!"  And because Avery has 2 brain cells to rub together, she knew it was going to be 40 more painful pokes and quickly revolted - writhing and screaming.  Honestly, I was shocked.  She never responds like this.  Allie, yes.  With Allie, I can't even say the word "splinter" or "tweezer" in a sentence without her grabbing the phone, curling into the fetal position, and shreiking to her Gaga that Mommy is trying to kill her.  But Avery is the only 2 year old in history to have 4 vials of blood drawn without a peep.  And they had to stick the needle through scabby, inflamed, eczema elbows to even draw the blood.  Avery's got chutzpah.

Avery kept flailing, nurse was ineffectively trying to distract her.  Even the doctor came over to try and assist.  I was trying to figure out the best way to restrain her by myself while she is wrestling me and smearing all the allergens into one another and just basically doing what a terrified 4 year old does best.  The office staff stood by watching.  That was super helpful.  Finally, nurse said "I don't know how far you want us to go with her to get this done."  Over Avery's high pitched yelps I said "I've got her legs and her left arm.  Get someone to hold her right arm and lets get it over with."

40 more needle pokes quickly followed and once they were done, Avery stopped screaming.  Her breath caught in her chest as she hiccuped the cries to a gradual stop.  I whispered into her hair how proud I was, how brave she was and kissed her over and over.  She became immersed in Rapunzel again and we gained a neigbor.  A lady who was probably about in her 50's was having allergy testing done too and she had the seat next to us.  Avery looked over at her, tears still streaking her face and assured the lady "It hurts reawy bad, but you can be brave.  I'll help you," and I knew my Avery was back.

The allergens had to cook on her arms for 20 minutes and I watched to see which ones were developing the largest welts.  The welt assigned to dustmites was visible from space.  And really, have you ever seen a microscopic enlargement of a dustmite?  That's not an allergy, that's just good judgement.  Those things are nasty looking buggers.  I thought I was going to include a picture, but I just can't bring myself to do it.  

So I was watching the welts swell, and trying to read the checklist upside down to see what all she was allergic to.  Meanwhile, Avery resumed charming the pants off of everybody.  Her charm floats around her in a visible cloud so that everyone nearby gets a sprinkling of Avery Pixie Dust (patent pending).  Shee was telling everyone about how daddy lives in Austin, and mommy killed her fish named Emo, and she has 6 boyfriends, and that mommy has a shiny pretty ring.  And of course she was the cheerleader for everyone else getting tested.  She even went so far as to demand a "gurprise" for the lady sitting next to her.  If Avery got a surprise, then she thought it only fair that everyone else got one.  I know I'm always on about how adorable she is, but truly.  It's humbling sometimes to see how well she relates to people.

The doc came over to read the results and I thought we were off.  Oh but no.  Some results were clearly yes or no, but some of the allergens were less well-defined.  And those?  Those we had to retest on her upper arms.  With bigger needles.  Joy.  The nurse put us on a stool this time and had Avery sit on my lap facing me, with her arms around me.  That way, she said, Avery could watch the TV and wouldn't even know that she was getting shots.  Yes, let's lie to the 4 year old again, and this time we should sneak up behind her and jab her with giant hypodermic needles when she's not looking.  That's a good strategy.

The cream worked this time and Avery didn't even feel the shots.  Which was good because the needles were much bigger and they had to work to get them under the skin at just the right angle.  Avery kept watching Rapunzel and didn't even feel them.  Until she chanced a glance over my other shoulder and saw the nurse creeping up with a giant needle.  Nurse hid it behind her back and said "What? I don't have a needle!  I'm just standing here!" which Avery was smart enough not to believe at this point. 

I finally took charge as I should have from the beginning and said "Avery sweetie, I want you to watch what she's doing.  That magic cream didn't work so good the first time, but it did this time.  She can poke you with that needle and you won't even feel it.  It's actually pretty cool, wanna see?"  And what do you know.  She watched the needle, saw that she couldn't feel it, and was content to get 24 more dirty needles jabbed in her arms for the sake of her health.

What should have taken 2 hours took 3 and a half.  But Avery made many friends, got a new shirt, and in the end she was very proud of herself.  And the final allergy tally?  25.  Dustmite F, dustmite P, cat, cedar, pecan, box elder, maple, cottonwood, privet, oak, mesquite, johnson grass, redtop grass, alternaria, epicoccum, fusarium, mucor, monilia, ragweed, marsh elder, sorrel, yellow dock, sage, and goldenrod.   Her bubble comes in the mail next week and then we start twice a week allergy shots.  For joy. 

It seems like a lot, and in fact it is for a little girl her age, but now that we know it is much easier to handle it.  We know now what meds she needs and how often, what to avoid and when.  She hasn't had even one asthma attack since then.  Kind of ironic that all I needed was a good diagnosis so we could treat her more effectively and I wouldn't have to miss any work. 

Avery was very proud of her battle scars.  They took a week to fade and she spent that week informing everyone "I got shot a hundred million times" in that glittery voice of hers.  Only Avery can make allergy testing sound cute....

 

Yes, we were lucky enough to get tickets to Hannah Montana at the Houston Rodeo.  They held a drawing for "real people" to be able to buy tickets.  I entered 4 email addresses in the drawing, and one of them won.  So we were the lucky purchasers of 4 tickets to the show.  And truly I didn't care where the seats were, but geeze louise they were actually literally the very last row in Reliant Stadium.  We had suffered some oxygen deprivation from the altitude, but the girls had fun regardless....

 

On our way to the show.  (Note the pimp new minivan recently lamented in Ron's blog)

The show marquee and the actual tickets.  (Note: One can not be bored in traffic when armed with a Nikon D-SLR. Stuck at a stoplight?  Take pics of random crap!  Like concert tickets!)

Allie trying to look irritated that I'm taking her picture (Note the eye makeup I let her wear special for the occassion.  I thought I overdid it, but once we got there and saw 3 year olds in false eyelashes and feather boas, well I felt much better about the thin line of eyeliner I allowed.)

Allie being reminded that I still hold the tickets in my little hand so she's got to pretend to like me at least until we get to our seats.  (Note that Allie has honed her sullen teenager act to an artform, but I'm breaking her of it surely.  I've got 8 years before she's a teenager and I'm not going to spend those years practicing)

 

Avery in front of her very first tour bus.  (Note that Allie was too scared to pose in front of the bus because everyone would be looking at her.  Yes, she is indeed my clone.)

 

The sherpa allowed us a break en route to our seats.  The girls could contain their excitement no longer.  (Note the peanut on the ground next to Avery.  And where did we leave the epipen?  In my purse.  In the van.  In the parking lot 5 miles away....)

 

73thousand some odd people as seen from the vantage point of our seats. (Note that I'm not hyperventilating although they are all surely staring at me and judging me from afar.  No, I'm not on my meds thanks for asking.)

 

Veal acquisition.  (Note that it's actually called the 'calf scramble'.  Whatevs.  They still chase a baby cow and are mean to it so they can take it home.  Poor veal. :( 

 

Blurry children.  That can only mean one thing.  (Note Allie's carefully studied ennui.  It's an artform....)

 

Hannah Montana.  AND Miley Cyrus.  AND Billy Ray Cyrus.  3-for-1.  (Note.  No really.  Billy Ray sang "Achey Breaky Heart".  It was cute.)

 

 

You might say that Avery enjoyed herself.  You might also say that she invoked the superhero Flash and acquired the ability to move all her molecules so fast that other solid matter passed through them.  (Note:  This photo is the closest she ever got to standing still.) 

 

 

Allie singing with Gaga.  (Note that while Gaga knew the words to this one, she wasn't sobbing while singing them.  That would be the sappy ass photographer blubbering through "Just Like You" even though she's not remotely near to PMS'ing.)

 

Best of all?  Mommy could still get artsy fartsy when the girls weren't looking.  (Note that these are straight out of camera so there is much manipulation fun yet to be had...)

 

Allie lost her cool facade long enough for the camera to capture it.  The quality is not the best, but the emotion is.  (Note that I am tearing up again.  When did I get to be such a sap?)

 

 

The girls were even grateful enough to take a picture with me!  They hate to take pictures with me!  (Note, Avery might not be visible to the naked eye in this picture.  See above note for molecular structure explanation...)

 

And that's not the end of the fun!  The next night, we got to go to the rodeo again and see Sugarland.  This time though we had third row seats.  Like we could reach out and touch manure and hear the cowboys cuss.  Plus we got to meet Sugarland before hand, which the girls are still talking about.  But me?  I've got to get some sleep tonight.  Sugarland pics tomorrow, if the boss lets me.... ;)

Avery has a life-threatening peanut allergy. Which sounds like a pain in
the neck, but honestly it's easier to manage than her egg allergy. She
outgrew her egg allergy with much celebration. Do you know that eggs are in
everything? Anything baked, breaded, or breakfasted has eggs in it. Even
vaccines have eggs in them. It was a nightmare. Peanuts (and other
treenuts) are actually much easier to avoid, especially given the new
labeling guidlines that have allergens in bold print. And although she's
only four, she is very responsible for her allergy. If someone hands her
something to eat, she automatically asks if it has peanuts in it. And she's
very vocal about her allergy, so I have some peace of mind in that. We
don't eat peanuts. We don't eat peanut butter. We don't eat anything that
rhymes with either word. We don't sing songs that have the words in them.
Packing peanuts make me nervous. I briefly considered dressing her as the
Planter's Nut for Halloween one year, but even my gallows humor has it's
limits. We don't live in constant fear, but we are vigilant. Most of the
time, our lives aren't even affected.

But since she started her preschool, I've been terrified. They are not
peanut free, but assured me they were taking precautions in light of her
allergy. Except that her asthma has gotten significantly worse since then.
I've had to pick her up early an average of 2x a week since January. One
day I had to pick her up because a girl in her class touched her after
eating peanut butter. Her face was swollen and red where she had been
touched. One day I watched her teacher offer her a snack of Cheerios.
Honey NUT Cheerios. Thankfully I was there to invervene and remind her that
NUT counts as peanuts. This is the same week she ended up in the ER after
eating Frito Chili Pie. Did you know they sometimes use peanut butter to
thicken chili? I didn't know that. I do now.

I finally reached my limit and sent a letter to the school director. I
included links about peanut allergy, how it's becoming more and more
prevalent, how allergy is really a misnomer that doesn't reveal the truth of
the condition. Allergy makes people think runny noses, rashes, or upset
tummies. Truly what she has is peanut anaphylaxis. There is a movement in
the allergic community to have it referred to as anaphylaxis instead of
allergy. It sounds scarier. And really it is. People die from this. It's
not an urban legend, and it can happen at any time. Some people have only
had mild reactions to peanuts, until the time they finally go into
anaphylactic shock and die.

I told the director that given the severity of her allergy, I would like her
and the owner to consider making the entire facility peanut free. No peanut
butter on bagels for breakfast. No trail mix for snacks. No parents
bringing in homemade treats with mystery ingredients. I offered to help in
this transition; to educate the staff and the parents; to offer ideas for
alternative foods. When I was talking to a family member about my campaign,
he said "Don't you think you're expecting them to change the whole world,
just for Avery?" To which I replied "Yep. I am and they should. I don't
want her to die. It's as simple as that. I'd do it in a heartbeat if the
shoe was on the other foot."

I sounded brash and brave and confident, but I really was scared. I spent
all day Thursday just waiting for the phone to ring. Parents brought in
candy and cookies and treats for Valentine's Day. Snickers and M&M's among
them. I didn't want that to be the day that she finally had a fatal
reaction. I also didn't have a choice that morning as I'm running out of
sick days and I absolutely HAVE to work. If for nothing else, then to pay
for all her medication. I felt horrible, like I was putting her in mortal
danger. I simply can't describe the terror of that day.

Much to my surprise, I got a phone call from the director. They are
completely on board with converting to a peanut-free facility. They want me
to come in Wednesday and outline what steps they need to take and help them
in the transition. They don't think I'm a tantruming bitch. They want to
treat her condition with the gravity it deserves. They want to change the
world for Avery. And all I had to do was ask.

See what I mean? WAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY too much America's Next Top Model.....