And the levels just go up

In some ways I guess I find it amusing.

In some aspects of my/my children's lives I'm so incredibly lax that it freaks people out. The word "complacent" has been used before by others. Though I wouldn't go that far.

Germs don't bother me. My kids eat food they've dropped on the ground, they roll in mud, they share sippy cups with their friends. Heck, they both were on airplanes by two weeks old.

I let them push their physical boundaries and rarely say "be careful." They stack chairs on top of their tables and stand on top of them. Of course, I'm cringing inside and want to quickly put them down on safe ground, but I always push my fears down and let them figure out what they are capable of and try my best not to limit them.

But then in other aspects I'm so far "safe" it also freaks people out. I'm so paranoid about pesticides and chemicals going in and on their little bodies.

Illnesses I cannot prevent terrify me.

On one hand, it isn't surprising my son has knocked himself unconscious or that I've rushed my daughter to the doctor for putting a tooth through her chin, amongst other things. Scary situation for sure, but also situations many children encounter whether they are kept "safe" or not. Kids are kids.

But on the other hand, I am surprised my son has lead poisoning. Because I'm so careful. And I'm even more surprised that his levels have gone up. A lot.

We've done so much to get rid of all things lead it seems nearly ridiculous. We purged all of their toys. We left the house for a week while J completely replaced our stair case. We took several of our doors and had them completely stripped of all paint. I even goodwilled our Christmas tree and lights, after the fact though, upon discovering they too carry lead.

So what's next?

I feel so defeated. I feel like I've tried so hard to give them freedom in every aspect, while also trying my best to keep their little bodies healthy the best I know how, and yet it's not been enough. Something hasn't worked. Somewhere I went wrong.

I'm trying really hard not to feel sorry for myself. Because this isn't about me. At all.

And yet I still can't help but feel I have failed that sweet boy yet again as his mother. It's my job to protect him and keep him healthy. And I can't seem to do that.

But my little girl spoke words of wisdom to me today, Her small hands cradling my face in the deli section of the grocery store, she said to me, "You're the best mommy in the world. It's all gonna be okay."

I hope she's right.

Okay, I know she's right.

To some extent.

I know I'm the best mom for them. And I know that it will all be okay, one way or another, things work out how they are supposed to.

But sweet damn, I don't feel like this should be happening to a baby boy. The idea of me having to take them to stay somewhere else for several weeks, maybe even months, until this has all been sorted and the house has been made safe, as well as everything in it, seems so unfair to those kids who love their papa so. It seems wrong to separate them.

And yet at the end of the day it might be our only option if we discover it is something in our home.

We've tested the big things, but now we get to test literally everything. Good times all around.

But a freshly bathed naked bird just came and crawled on my lap, so I'm off to love him up.

Because in the end, all I can really guarantee him is my love.