Peanut Allergies and the Peanut

Since the little porpoise was diagnosed with a milk allergy, allergens have become one of my biggest pre-occupations and neurosis. While her diet is basically just Soy formula and rice cereal right now, it's been very easy to manage the milk allergy. My bigger concern is that I somehow created an allergic kid. What allergies have yet to be discovered? Mostly, I fear the peanut allergy.

My husband's love for peanut butter borders on obsessive. He eats it all the time - peanut butter on English muffins for breakfast, peanut butter granola bars for snacks and peanut butter ice cream for dessert. His favorite part of the holidays - Reeses Peanut Butter Christmas Trees.

Now, while he's chowing on peanut butter by the spoonful and showering the Little Porpoise with loving kisses and playful zerberts, one news story sticks in my mind - the girl who kissed her boyfriend after he ate a PB&J and died!

Laundry Explosions

Hi there. It's been awhile.

While I've been gone for over a year, I'm still neurotic about the same stuff. As proof, my first post back has a similar theme as the last post before I left: Home Explosions.

Here is a story I heard over the summer. An old lady had a gas dryer (so do we). She smelled gas and went down to the basement to investigate. Realizing it was coming from the dryer she thought it would be a good idea to open the door and air it out. So she did, and the door sparked, igniting the gas-filled bowl inside. The explosion knocked her back, action-movie style. She died.

Crazy way to die, right? The thing is I am certain that I would have done the exact same thing. Have you ever had a pilot light go out on an old gas stove? You open the window to air out the house, right? So that would have been my thought with the dryer. I would have opened the basement window, then opened the dryer. Boom! Dead. I asked my husband what he would have done. Boom! Dead.

So, now I am neurotic about both house fires, AND our poor decision-making skills and lack of common sense.

Part 2: 25 Things I am Neurotic About

6. House fires and explosions - Every time we leave the house for an overnight stay I am convinced we will come home and a gas explosion will have decimated our Cape. I have seen one or two news stories in the past few years where houses mysteriously explode without warning.

7. Cops - My neighbor is a cop, in fact many of the men and women in my town are cops. Whenever I come home from work and see his car is gone for the night shift I worry. I don't think you can be a neurotic wife and marry a cop. Luckily my husband is a marketing manager.

8. And robbers - Recently there was a rash of break-ins in my sister's neighborhood. The same sister who was forgetful enough to leave the oven on over night, would obviously be forgetful enough to leave the front or back door unlocked.

9. Dryer Lint - The other day a co-worker of mine told me that her house nearly caught on fire (see number 6) because she had not cleaned the dryer's exit pipe in six months. I didn't know the dryer had an exit pipe, let alone that it needed to be cleaned.

10. Scoliosis - When my husband was in 7th grade he had to have an operation on his back and was out of school for six months. I am not sure if this can be traced back to the fact that his home town is contaminated by GE or not, nor am I sure that scoliosis is genetic, but I am pretty certain my future porpoise-like children will be born with a boomerang-shaped spine.

Part One: 25 Things I am Neurotic About

In honor of the craze sweeping Facebook right now, I am listing 25 things I have worried about recently. This will be a series of five posts.

1. A mysterious, large bruise that appeared on my arm - When I was 11 I read a book about a girl who got leukemia, and one of the symptoms was that she bruised easily. Now whenever I notice a bruise and can not remember how I got it I assume the worst.

2. Ring worm - This is a rare instance that I was not worrying, and I should have been. As I have mentioned, I recently went to the doctor for a regular check-up. There I learned that what I thought was a patch of dry skin on my leg was actually ring worm. (Note: The doctor told me ring worm is not a worm, it's a fungus. That was supposed to make me feel better.

3. High levels of sodium - I had a Lean Cuisine for lunch today. Anytime I have a frozen meal I worry about sodium in-take, but today I topped it off with some soy sauce with my dinner. Now my toe feels like it's going numb. I'm convinced the two are related.

4. Blood clots - I am getting on a plane in three weeks.

5. Potholes - I can not believe that no one has invented pothole resistant asphalt. If I had not done Mad Libs all through chemistry in high school I'd be on top of that invention. Instead I sit at home and worry about my husband driving his little Civic straight into an SUV-sized pothole.Check back soon for the next five worries in this series...

The Structured Life of a Neurotic Wife

As much as I hate to admit it, my husband and I live a very structured life. Our mornings follow a strict schedule. He wakes up at 7:03 a.m. and around 7:14 a.m he exits the shower and I wake up. I chat with him from bed as he gets dressed. When he goes downstairs to make the coffee, I get in the shower. My bathroom routine is a bit longer than his "11-minute-express hygiene special" and so when I am in the bathroom, he leaves for work.

The significant snow and ice we have had in Boston has altered my routine, just slightly. Now prior to getting in the shower, but after teeth brushing, face-washing and using the toilet, I scurry out of the bathroom to look out the side bedroom window. Peeking out the window I make sure that my husband has not slipped and fallen down the stairs or tumbled on a patch of ice on the driveway. A quick check that the car is gone relieves this fear.

What a terrible wife I would be had I showered, dressed, applied make up and blew dry my hair while my poor husband was lying on the icy driveway, in the cold, with a broken back!

Worrying in circles

My husband and I just bought a house on a quaint, 1950's, cul de sac. One of the benefits of the house is its secluded spot in the neighborhood-- a safe spot to play for children we dont have yet.

Children in our neighborhood use our street as the park. This is, of course, adorable and wholesome. This is the kind of America you don't think exists anymore-- now that there is too much to worry about. I picture myself in apron, baking apple pie, and calling my children in from a game of tag some day.

However, today, childless and as a neurotic wife, I also see a serious downside to living on the cul de sac-- tiny children that aren't always car-height and dont always pay attention.

I am vigilant in making sure the street is clear of kids before I pull in or out. When I back out, I check behind the car first for "hide and seekers." Even though the parents are almost always in the street to corral them, I always count the number of kids, and keep constant track as I back out. Coming home, I come to a complete stop - the kind that would make a driver's ed instructor proud, before turning onto the circle.

On his way home from work, my husband often receives this call, "Drive super carefully; children are riding scooters in the street and one keeps falling off." Or, "I count six kids. Make sure you account for all of them before you pull in."

I am sure I will be less neurotic when it's my kid and I am out there watching them, but right now, living on a cul de sac seems more nerve-wracking than living on a parkway.

Driving Miss Crazy

My husband is in a band, and they practice after work two nights a week. I am nervous every night until he gets home. But Thursday nights in particular really make me nervous. After a long four days of work, he's tired, and it's dark out. Add to this the fact that more people go out on Thursday nights, which means the number of tipsy drivers increases. Tonight is particularly concerning because there is a Patriots game-- even more crazy drivers on the road.

Ed's work is only 8 miles from home, and his band's practice space is a mile closer to home than that. That means later tonight he will travel 7 miles, on mostly back roads. A short and safe drive, right? Wrong. Check out this survey on Insurance.com, "where accidents occur most" . Now, I haven't done math since "Probabilty and Statistics for the Liberal Arts Major" 12 years ago, but I think this chart means that Ed has a 70 percent chance of getting in an accident whenever he drives home.

The Porpoise and the Cantaloupe

My husband grew up in a PCB-contaminated city. I'm no Erin Brockovich, but I think the city deserved more than the settlement it received - a small baseball field and a promise to clean the river.

But my issue isnt with the paltry settlement. My issue is that for years my husband rolled around in PCB-laden dirt, probably ingested some of it, and definitely got it under his fingernails. He seems fine - no obvious effects. My real concern is for our unborn children, who knows what disfigurement awaits them! PCBs are probably coating my husband's genes.

What does this have to do with a porpoise and a cantaloupe? Often my neuroses manifest themselves in dreams. In this particular re-occurring dream, I am pregnant. My belly falls off and opens up to look just like a halved cantaloupe. After the doctor scrapes the cantaloupe guts away he presents me with my baby-- which looks just like a disfigured porpoise.

In actuality, this is another case of me worrying, without researching. If you click on the link to PCB information above or below you will see that most harm is caused by the mother being exposed to PCB's - by eating contaminated fish, or working in a factory.

Most likely our unborn kids are fine - that is, if we can have them. I just learned today that high-levels of PCB's can sometimes contribute to infertility.

How it began

I blame my mother. Actually, "blame" may not be the right word since my mother takes great pride and pleasure in my neurosis. I worry; she thinks, "my job is done."

When I was in college, my brother was in law school and my sister was about to graduate first in her high school class. My mother tied a ribbon around all the beds in our house. "To ward off bad thoughts from others," she said. I had always thought we were liked enough in the community, so this step seemed peculiar. Whenever life is going really well my mother is certain something bad will happen. After 31 years of study I have perfected her thought process.

I am happy. I am happily married to a great man, who just happens to be using paint thinner to clean up our recently painted and expanded closet. He is working in a tight space (the closet). What if he inhales too much paint thinner? How much paint thinner can you inhale before your lungs bleed? If his lungs were bleeding I would call an ambulance. The hospital isn't too far away. This is my thought process.

When I am worried I often turn to the Internet. I just looked up "inhaling paint thinner" and I learned from Wikipedia that you should not drive a car after inhaling paint thinner. Luckily, we are in for the night. It doesn't say anything about bleeding lungs. It looks like I made that up.