Keep Knocking, No One's Home

I can't believe this is happening, again.  When Lizzy went for blood tests last week, it never crossed my mind that the virus might be back.  I never allowed myself to think it.  She has been hepatitis C free for over 2 months.  She has regained some semblance of a normal life.  She has become a teenager again, become a  regular senior in high school.  Hanging out with friends until all hours of the morning.  Participating in scavenger hunts, sleep outs, and cut days.  Simply enjoying being young and beautiful.  That is what life is suppose to be like for her.  Carefree, innocent, exciting, full of promise, and believing nothing bad could ever happen.

One phone call can change it all.  The virus is back.  She has two basic options.  Go back on her horrific treatment (that landed her sick, taking 3 weekly injections, on the couch watching awful TV not having the strength to move) for another year, during college no less. (Hi new roommates!  I brought the microwave and a duffel bag of syringes!!) Or wait until 2011 when a new treatment is suppose to be launching but risk letting the virus eat away at her liver, while living with knowing you are sick and doing nothing about it.  She gets to asks questions on her doctors appointment on Monday.  She is going to Loyola in Baltimore in the fall.  Baltimore is not far, but far enough.  This is her summer before college.   Graduation is next weekend.  Prom is coming up.  Why now?  Why her?  Why again, so soon?  Hasn't she been through enough?  But there is no one to blame.  Sometimes life just sucks for no rhyme or reason.  There would never be a good time.  No one deserves this.

I wish that I could do it for her.  That I could be the sick one so she can go enjoy college.  I feel so bad for her.  No, that doesn't even begin to cut it.  I feel overwhelmed for her.  Everyone is so upset.  I know it will be fine.  Out of our family, she is the one who can handle this.  She is stronger then anyone gives her credit for.  I know its not the worse news.  Its a setback in the fight.  She's going to be fine.  I'm being melodramatic.  But when bad news comes to your family, to someone that you love, it is hard to see any good.  To see any silver lining.  To feel anything but emptiness.  I want to bathe in alcohol but thats unfair because Lizzy can't drink.  Destined to be the designated driver for the rest of her life.  I want to grieve, to black out the windows, and wallow in bad movies.  Maybe we'll all just go smoke up.  It's been a bad day.

25 Things - Cause Everyone is Doing It

So, this Facebook thing is taking over my life and I have finally succumbed.  I was going to switch it up a little and write 25 things that I know and love about Lizzy but decided that the public humiliation might send her over the top.   So, in an attempt to compromise, I will do every other.  I'll take the odds and give Lizzy the evens. Lizzy, you can thank me later for being so generous.  

1 - I am, perhaps, thee worst speller on the planet.  I have to spell-check every blog about 12 times before I am confident enough to post and even then there are still mistakes.  I lost my 3rd grade spelling bee to "Window" and it wasn't until about 5th grade that I learned how to spell "always".  My friend Nicole finally corrected me after I had been signing my notes "Love all ways" for all my life. 

2 - Lizzy has an array of fuzzy, cartoon print, oversized, static cling pajama pants that she wears so much they are form fitted to her body.  I think she could wear a different pair every day for 6 months and not run out.  I don't know why this annoys me other then sometimes I feel like I live with MC Hammer.

3 - I am a huge fan of old fashion mail.  When I had more time on my hands, I used to try to send letters to my friends, actual hand written letters.  I like thinking about the person receiving the letter; a look of surprise on their face when reading the return address.  Then sitting and holding a piece of paper that was once physically in my hands.  I wish I had time to do that more often.

4 - Lizzy did not know how to flush the toilet until she was 16, literally.  Sometimes I think it was out of laziness but other times I think she was secretly afraid that the toilet was going to eat her if she remained in the bathroom while the flush happened.

5 - I have this weird obsession with zit popping and nose picking.  I know its gross but I can't help myself.  I try to blame my nose picking on my nose ring but my family has learned otherwise.  If I see a zit, even if it is on some other face, I really have a greatest overwhelming urge to pop it.  Usually I have to look away or else I might do it.

6 - Whenever I need a good pick-me-up I watch old home videos of Lizzy.  My favorites include potty training where she sticks her face in the potty, looks up holding her nose and says "ewwww".  Then there is the stirring rendition of the Lion King all the lyrics having a 2 year old spin.  For example, "Can't you feel the love tonight, tonight" and "I'm gonna be a mighty king that people can see before" and "It's the Circle of the night".  Seriously, I am laughing just thinking about it.

7 - We played manhunt as kids around our neighborhood, maybe about 10 or so of us.  I loved manhunt but was terrified of the dark.  I always hid within sight lines of my house and a light unless I was with someone else.  Sometimes I wonder if when Wyatt comes into my room because there is a monster under his bed will I respond with "Shit Monsters! Lock the door!" 

8 - Us three girls tend to do a lot of physical fighting which is mostly directed at Lizzy because she is the littlest.  Not to actually hurt one another but more as a way to pass time or to show affection.  However, most of the time I do it because Lizzy is the clumsiest, most awkward, entirely spastic person I have ever met.  One quick lunge and guaranteed she is on the floor, a puddle of limbs.

9 -  I save everything but hate clutter, the living oxymoron.  I have every college paper that Hayley wrote for, every program for the shows I was involved in, every note Kari passed me, and every birthday card my mother wrote me.  However, I hate clutter and will throw out everything that is unnecessary.  I need everything to have a place, a box, a drawer, a shelf.  All my surfaces need to be object free, books in height order, and pens separated from pencils.

10 - Lizzy insists on watching mind numbing shows like Paris Hilton's New Best Friend and that crazy Parental Control dating show.  Channel surfing is one thing but she actually DVR's them.  Her one redeeming TV watching habit is she also DVR's the The Office.  So, I guess she is forgiven. 

11 - I rub my feet together when I am going to sleep.  When I sleep with someone else, I put my feet as far away from the other person as possible so they won't know.  I always thought I was being every inconspicuous until recently when Eric told me he has know about my feet rubbing for years.  Funny thing is my mom does it and Wyatt seems to be doing it too.

12 - We have this spindly apple tree in our backyard with branches low enough to climb.  There is this one spot that intersects perfectly to make a little seat.  Lizzy used to take one of our couch cushions and sit in the "Y", reading, singing, playing with dolls.  She would stay up there for hours, crazy tree hugger. 

13 - Rebecca and I wrote a nasty letter to our cousin Emily when I was 7.  I don't remember what the quarell was about.  After depositing the letter in their mailbox, we ran back home and hid.  Michael was down a few minutes later, yelling at us for being mean and defending his sisters honor.  I watched him from the upstairs window pace around our house, very, very upset.  I regret that letter to this day even though I can't remember what is written.  This incident was a primary reason that I didn't want to have a girl.  I don't think I could handle mean little girls.

14 - Lizzy is convinced that her cat, Delilah, is a kind, gentle, lovable feline.  In reality, the cat is EVIL!!! (with three exclamation points!!!).  She tortures our other cat, who is deaf, clawing at her while hiding around the corner.  Delilah is a wild beast that bites anyone she comes in contact with and ritually run around the house like a 5 year old with a nasty pixie stick/coke habit.  Clearly, Delilah has Lizzy brain washed.  Lizzy named Delilah after the song by the Plain White Tees.  However, I am reminded of a Samson and Delilah bit done in a Vegas show with leather thongs and chains.  I think mine is more appropriate.

15 - I am utterly obsessed with jigsaw puzzles and have been my entire life.  I was doing 500 piece puzzles when I was 5 which my mom says is very impressive.  I did a ton of puzzles when I lived in SC.  There is sometimes tremendously satisfying about every piece having a place.  When I get a piece in I rub my finger over the connection like I'm making a wish.  I do it every time.

16 - Lizzy told me once that she wants her wedding song to be "Cash, Money, Hoes".  I haven't decided if she was kidding or not.

17 - I have a weird food texture issue.  I hate raw tomatoes but will eat tomato sauce without the chunks and ketchup.  I also hate bananas, baked apples as in pie, cottage cheese, and hot dogs.  I am not sure how the hot dogs play into the texture issues but I still can't eat them. 

18 - The other night, Lizzy was trying to convince Rebecca and I that she had really huge arm muscles.  She would flex her arm then try to peck us like a rabid chicken.  When making this ridiculous motion she would yell, "Watch out, the python is going to get you."  If this wasn't enough to send me on the floor in a fit of laughter, when she did make contact it was like getting bit by a mosquito.

19 - Since I stopped breast feeding, my boobs have shrunk.  I have always been a C, then was up to a D cup and now am down to a B.  This makes me very depressed basically because none of my shirts seem to fit right anymore.  I thought you have what you have.  Evidently, along with every other aspect of my body after pregnancy, my boobs are no longer my own.  I hope they grow back.  I must, I must, I must increase my bust.

20 -  To this day, Lizzy is still unable to pronounce our Aunt Carolyn's name.  She says something like Aunt Cal-o-Rine.  We have tried to correct her several times but she is unable to fix it.  

21 - Every Thanksgiving, Rebecca, Emily, Michael and I put on concerts for the family.  We would work all day on the dance and song routine then perform for the family after dinner.  Basically, Michael and I wanted to showcase our talents and Rebecca and Emily were always the back up.  Michael and I were Simba and Nala, Rebecca and Emily were Timon and Pumba.  Ringo and George to our Paul and John.  Kind of explains a lot.

22 - Lizzy is very musically inclined.  When she first started taking showers, maybe around 6 or 7, she would sing.  Loudly.  About blackbirds.  We used to crowd around the bathroom door to listen, like our own private concert.

23 -  I really would like to be good at scrap-booking.  I think it is something I would really enjoy but can't seem to muster up the time, supplies, or patience.  I have done some, complete with artifacts from trips, notes, etc but they are in photo books with crusty sticky pages.  I want to go to the craft store and spend ridiculous amounts of money on that fancy paper and puffy stickers.  Every time I am in Target I look at their scrap-booking isle but I always get too intimidated.  I think I would be really good at it if I took the plunge.  

24 - Lizzy has this weird thing with vanity license plates.  When she sees them she says she creates the entire life story of the person driving and becomes intriqued by the person.  When she sees the car driving around town she thinks, "Oh there's the BANK4U Banker who is cheating on his wife with her cousin with a gambling problem and 11 toes.  I wonder what he is getting at Stop n' Shop?"  She said at one point she had a dream and her license plate was XTRASML.  I wonder what that says about her.

25 -  For a 10 year old who was really, really pissed off when Lizzy was born and then I ignored her for much of her life I sure know a lot about Lizzy.

Lizzy's Gang

Lizzy hangs out with a motley crew of budding citizens of the world.  Most of her friends walk right into the house, regardless if Lizzy is home, and go straight for the snack cabinet usually eating us to the poor house.  Even having the balls to take liquor right from under my Dad nose.  Hell, Lauren stole Wyatt's goldfish the other day.  Now that's moxie when you can steal from a toddler.  The girls are great with few character flaws most of which involve cheerleading.  However, its her guy friends that astound, amaze, and never fail to crack me up.   As much as they annoy me with there wall penetrating, booming, screeching, voices at 3 in the morning, I am always fondly reminded of my high school days and am amazed at the genuinely decent people they have become.

If Jack Black, John Belushi, and Pauly Shore had a child that would be Kurt.  Kurt has the distinct ability to make me laugh no matter what my mood with his crass, witty humor.  When I told the boys that I was pregnant, Kurt said that he would marry me, give me $1000 and a $1000 to the baby because that is the right thing to do.  He is also the same man who ran into my room while Wyatt and I were sleeping and jumped into my bed because he wanted to say hi. Then when I promptly removed him ran out of the room yelling "I just got her pregnant AGAIN!" 

Stephen is Kurts younger tragically hip little brother.  He typically is attached to some kind of skateboard with skinny jeans down to his knees, a studded belt, and chunky Vans.  He could pass for a 12 year old with his very boyish, youthful face and Rob Pattinson, shock inspired hair. Rebecca has a particular fondness for Stephen and won't hear a bad word about him.  Kurt and Stephen brought Wyatt a toy when he was born which I think was much of their mothers influence but a nice gesture none the less. 

Tony, what can I possibly say about Tony?  Tony has made the blog once already.  He is an extremely opinionated, angry drunk with a heart of gold, that is the sweetest boy on the planet that I secretly (or not so) want to become my brother in law.   He is extremely protective of Lizzy in a older brother/stalker way that gets a gold star in my book.  He seems to be very mature for his age surrounded by a sense of worry and self awareness of the world he is part of.  Much of his air of maturity seems to leave him when he takes to the bottle, usually picking fights with people much bigger and older.  But you can't fault him because drinking gives most of us false confidence.

Timmy asked if he could be Wyatt's godfather while I was still pregnant.  I told him the position was already taken so he inquired about being Crazy Uncle Timmy because everyone needs a crazy uncle.  Wyatt has a Great Uncle Timmy but not a Crazy Uncle Timmy and he was satisfied with that.  He sporadically calls from college to ask how Wyatt is doing because he knows that Wyatt is missing Timmy's manly pep talks.  He is a handsome devil that can get away with anything with a flash of a smile and a few honey sweet sentences.  I probably have only seen Timmy sober once but maybe that is some of his charm.  One night, he was screaming outside my bedroom door while Wyatt was sound asleep.  I was enraged and ran out to do some yelling myself.  I was met with a stoned Timmy throwing himself at me with a bear hug for "his favorite MILF".  (His words not mine).

My point in introducing these cast of characters is I hope that Wyatt grows up to have friends like this.  I never remembered the boys of my high school days being so self-assured, so witty, so supporting and caring.  Maybe they were but I couldn't see it at the time.  I hope that I have a home that Wyatt's friends feel comfortable in, the way that Lizzy, Rebecca, and I had.  I hope that Wyatt's friends create a diverse network of support, love, and fun.  Most of all, I know that high school friendship are fleeting and I hope that the genuine affection that these boys have for one another and Lizzy will stretch far into the future.

Sick, My Ass (or) Wyatt's Favorite Time of Day

The Real Maverick

I believe that there are defining moments in our lives that shape the people we become.  Looking back on my life, I can pinpoint moments that changed the way I viewed the world or viewed myself.  Moments that solidified my morals or made a significant enough impact that made me question and revaluate.  Usually these moments are not very happy times but looking back you can see what you learned from them and somehow gain more respect for them.

When I was in high school, right around 1998, our mom was diagnosed with Hepatitis C which was traced back to a blood transfusion from her childhood.   Almost 10 years ago, this liver disease was just beginning to emerge into public knowledge.  There was little research and the information that was available was scary.  I can vividly recall my mother's experimental treatment.  There were days that she was very sick; days that she become a figment of herself and days that I would rather keep in the back of my memory.  Thankfully after a year of self injections, mom has been HepC free.  I believe that my mom's poor health when I was growing up has made me a more compassionate adult.  I have a great respect for good health and the void it leaves when someone is ill.  My appreciation of my family has grown deep and unconditional.

This past month our family has once again been haunted by HepC.   Lizzy has been not feeling well for the past two years.  She has been complaining of exhaustion, sinus infections, joint pain, and lack of appetite.  It never remotely crossed our minds that Lizzy might have contracted HepC since when mom was diagnosed we got tested.   However, there seemed to be some kind of mix up and we all had to get retested.   Rebecca and I were negative and Elizabeth was positive.  I can't even begin to describe the deep pit that forms in my stomach even as I say these words.

Lizzy started her treatment, that is frighteningly similar to our mom's, about two weeks ago.  She is on two medications, one oral and another that she injects, that are chemotherapy treatments. I can not believe how strong she has been.  My high school self would have thrown the biggest pity party and would have been playing the worlds tiniest violin everyday.  Not Lizzy.  It took her two minutes to inject herself for the first time whereas my mom admits her first shot took about an hour. She has been going to school and to work with a fever, feeling light headed, nauseous, headaches, and several other flu like side effects that would knock even the strongest patient to the couch.  She doesn't have to do any of this, but she does.  She has blown all of us away with her optimism, her strength, her motivation, and her ability to push through everyday.  

It has been disheartening for me watching Lizzy going through this.  It is her senior year of high school, a year of SAT's, college applications, partying, and friends.  She doesn't need this.  I often wish that it could have been me.  I think its called survivors guilt.  I am trying to keep focus. Focused that it will only be a year at most and then hopefully we can say goodbye to HepC forever.  Maybe, someday, Lizzy will be able to look back on this time and have a realization of her own.  Maybe she will understand that being sick has made her a more compassionate doctor.  A true empathetic doctor would be a rare treat in this world and would certainly take her to the top of her class.  Right now, Lizzy is pushing through and we are all just trying to hold her hand in the process.

Bullet Friday

I am having a bullet list type of day. You know the days when your mind is jumping from one topic to another like a pogo stick. I can't seem to get anything done but yet trying to get twelve hundred things checked off my to-do-list at the same time. I have had several days like this recently. What gives? Here are some of my random thoughts:

Did you hear about that crazy waterspout that happened in Oyster Bay Harbor? Well, Lizzy works right near there and took pictures of it from her phone. They are much better than the Newsday ones in my opinion. Crazy stuff, global warming. If I had the money I would switch everything I own to organic. Save the environment in my own way. Right now I am working on purging my household of conventional cleaners. I am terrified of tornadoes. Maybe I watched my witch-less Wizard of Oz too much as a kid. My mom edited our movie so that there was no Wicked Witch. She thought it was too scary. When I finally watched the full version all I could think was "Wow! This movie does have a plot!!" If I saw that waterspout I probably would have shit my pants. Literally. Lizzy said that everyone was running out to watch it. Hello, stupid, you should be running in the other direction! At least no one was hurt and Lizzy walked away with some awesome pictures.

On the last two conversations with Terry he said he is having chest pains. What does that mean exactly? I told him he needs to go to the doctor but he insists that he wants to get in his flying hours. If he goes to the doctor they will pull him off his flights. Men should affix themselves with labels stating "Made with Testosterone, Will be Idiotic." Seriously, it is getting me worried.

I am so excited that it is Friday. Since the end of June, I have taken at least one day off a week from work. This was the first full week I have worked (minus a few hours off on Thursday) and it is taking its toll. I am anticipating quiting in September so I am trying to use all of my vacation days. I asked if I could work part-time or from home but they said no. So, my compromise was to use my leave one day a week until I quit. My silent "Stick it to the Man!"

I have Kari's bachelorette party this weekend. I haven't been out in the city in a long time and it might be the making of a pump and dump night. Although, I read that alcohol leaves your breast milk just as it leaves your blood stream. Interesting concept but I am not sure I believe it. The Internet is an amazing search tool but not always factual. I won't get drunk that's for sure but maybe two drinks over five hours are in my future. Watch out, I'm living on the edge people! The Olympics start tonight too. I am so excited for that. Yes, I'm a dork. The blue Swim Cube Stadium and the Bird's Nest are some of the most amazing pieces of architecture I have ever seen. I am thinking my sweet baby Wyatt, the Olympics, and Chinese food tonight.

Keeping Score

On this blog, I try to be very diplomatic, evenly spacing out sappy posts vs. humorous posts, and giving each family member adequate air time. Unfortunately, it seems that I have left someone out. Lizzy seems to think that I go on and go about every one else, failing to mention how amazingly fabulous she is. Although there have been a few posts about her, she thinks it is an mediocre representation of her love for Wyatt and my love for her. The follow is a letter composed by Lizzy and her friend Kim for me to post since I am completely incapable of doing Lizzy justice.

Hello my faithful readers,

Sadly, I have been neglectful. Luckily not as a mother but regretfully as a sister. If I was neglectful as a mother no beads would gather at my brow because I have been blessed with a wonderful doting sister, Elizabeth. This blog is to honor her because previous blogs discussing my family members do no compare to the feelings of gratitude and admiration for my selfless beautiful sister.

Throughout my pregnancy, birth, and the rearing of my bundle of joy, Elizabeth has been my side kick. The Robin to my Batman, without the ambiguously gay undertones and obviously Lizzy would look better in the spandex. When I was stressed and felt as though the weight of the world was on my shoulders Elizabeth was there with a story or advice. Even though Lizzy is younger than I, she is indeed wise beyond her years. It is though Buddha has been reincarnated into my toned flaxen haired sister. As an Aunt, I have been amazed at her ability to care for Wyatt. He looks at her as though she is a Greek goddess. I then look in the mirror and see I have the same astonished look across my face. She continues to amaze me. She is like a magician who pulls a rabbit out of a hat.

There is a show on NBC called the Baby Borrowers. Parents lend their children to teenage couples for 3 nights to see how they fare. As I sit and watch this show I find myself repeating the phrase "I would never entrust my child's life in a teenagers hands." But I do just that, with Elizabeth. But I don't see her as the bumbling idiots on television. I see her as a gorgeous young adult with a bright future. She has so many wonderful traits that I would not be surprised if she ruled the world one day.

I hope you all found this as amusing as I did. On a seriously note, I have been truly amazed at the effort that Lizzy has put into Wyatt. She is an extremely busy, hard working 17 year-old, and when she is home she spends time with him. Anyone who lives with a Generation Y teenager can attest that quality time is pretty rare. The way he adores her is proof enough. Dare I say, she will miss him when she goes to college next summer.

Where the Trouble Started

Terry and I met in high school, 10th grade English class with Mrs. Tippy. Being a new student, Terry immediate gained the celebrity status typical of a 120 person graduating class. I remember him making some charismatic speech and thinking he would be perfect for the upcoming play I was involved in. He reminded me of another Terry, a few years older then me, that I adored. Oh, and he was cute, in that rugged, fun loving, bad boy, quiet way. With my motivations in place, I courageously struck up a conversation and Terry and I became quick friends. For those wondering he did join the theatre group and I've got black mail pictures to prove it. Terry is on the far right in that picture in a kilt and a hat with a pom-pom!!! I am on the far left in character shoes. Oh, to be in high school...

Rebecca had an appointment at the high school recently and was demanded to bring Wyatt. She said that he was paraded around the school, smiling, laughing, and generally charming the pants off of all the faculty. Most of the conversations went "Do you remember Kate and Terry? Well, this is their son. Isn't he gorgeous!?!" The ohh's and ahh's followed. They even interrupted a class at one point. Thankfully, the Wyatt parade didn't run into Lizzy as I am sure she would have been mortified. Teachers, hall monitors, lunch ladies, guidance counselors all stopped to marvel at their former students creation.

The reason I bring this up is I believe Wyatt is starting to get used to all this attention. He is the Library mascot, his face plasters the walls at the Florist, my job wants to set up a playpen in the small conference room, family visits are more frequent, the list goes on and on. Every new move he makes there are about 12 people clapping, cheering, and urging him on. I am getting worried. He is going to get into preschool and expect the teachers to salute him when he walks in the door. Or throw a parade when he cuts a straight line with scissors. Or get the entire class clapping when he pees in the big potty. This madness must stop before his head gets any bigger than it already is.

On a side note, it was Lizzy's 17th birthday yesterday. I remember once on Terry's birthday his mom got him this singing gorilla to follow him around school. I believe she also got Kelly Ann a singing chicken. I was threatening Lizzy with that all day. I told her I was going to dress up in the cow costume we have and dress Wyatt in his bear suit and follow her around all day singing. The only reason I didn't was because she probably would never speak to me again. It would have been classic I'm telling you. Holla to the high school kids out there!

Car Crash Lovers

Our Elizabeth (aka Besty Blowhole or Lexy Luv) got into a car accident on Saturday. She's fine, thank God, but we are all pretty shaken up over it. Lizzy and her friend Tony were delivering flowers for the shop for Mothers Day. They stopped at a stop sign, proceeded through the intersection, and got hit by a speeding car that swerved into their lane. From what witnesses report, the car did a few 360's, flipped, and landed with Lizzy on the pavement. Tony's car was totaled and almost every piece of glass broke. He just bought it about two months ago. Both of them walked away bruised and shaken.

My first reaction is to make fun of the situation. Classic Kate. I crack jokes trying to brighten the mood. My whole family has been ripping on Lizzy saying the her and Tony are bonded for life and need to get married. I have been singing "car crash lovers, that's what they are". Tony has been raised to hero status in our house. He was the one who opened the sun roof, helped pull Lizzy to safety, and is still coming over to check up on her. He even, get this, smelled Lizzy to see if she wet her pants. (It was ice coffee and water that spilled in the car. Lizzy had a vase on her lap). Come on now people, that's love.

Unfortunately, my crass humor does little to lighten the severity of the situation. I can't stop thinking about her or the accident. The ER doctor was astounded they weren't hurt. This was a causality accident. I am finding myself viewing Lizzy in a new light. Lizzys' obnoxious, gruff, 16 year old ways are suddenly endearing. Since I moved home, our relationship has been given an opportunity to blossom. I moved out when Lizzy was 8 and we all know how wonderful I am with children. I feel like I have been given a second chance to get to know her even better. I can't even imagine how Elizabeth feels but I am sure it is all consuming and eye opening. Every teenager feels that they are infallible, indestructible, I know I thought so, facing your mortality must be sobering.

I am paranoid about driving now. I drive the speed limit and view every other car as an explosive device. Driving with Wyatt, I am even worse. I have checked his car seat about 12 times. I was paranoid to begin with and this accident has confounded my worry. I would feel so responsible if he got even a scratch while I was driving. The thought that I failed to keep him safe is terrifying to me. I am not even going to go into what ifs. My mom, viewing the accident, police cars, and firetrucks for the first time, said "it was like 9-11". Yes, its over dramatic and not even remotely close to that kind of tragedy. But when it is your child, I can understand how it could feel that monumental. I can understand how you would rather it be you. I can understand how it must feel like the end of the world.