Picture Frames and Barbie Dolls

It's 5:30 in the morning on a Saturday, when Nik is home and the kids are both asleep. I am wide awake. Go figure. Since next week my hubby turns 30, and since he stumbled across a rare Saturday off this weekend, I decided about a month ago to plan an all expense paid (by my hidden cash stash I accumulate over the months) family weekend getaway to a hotel with a little indoor water park for kids. Our bags are packed, the travel toy chest is already in the car. Everything is ready to go for when we leave in about 3 hours. And Nik has NO idea we are even going. I can't wait till he wakes up.

So other than planning and packing for that this week, I've also decided to temporarily give up my online medical search addiction. It was getting unhealthy. I was scrutinizing to the point of embarrassment, trying to find a diagnosis or to back up Kabuki Syndrome. I was constantly comparing her symptoms and features to that of other kids, trying to see if I was trying to make something of nothing. I was even checking Noah from head to toe, which only made me more crazy. Because guess what? His ears are cupped. His eyes have slight epicanthal folds. His toes have toe pads. GOOD LORD. I started freaking out that he might have a touch of a genetic abnormality too, until I realized that EVERYONE has things about them that are different like this. My toenails point upwards just like Isabella's, and Nik totally has toe pads too. Does this mean we are genetically 'wrong'? (Probably, haha!) But really. I was driving my kids, my husband, and myself totally crazy. And I acted crazy too. Take my recent trip to Pat Catans for example. I was in the picture frame aisle searching for the perfect side by side matted 5 x 7 when I peered in closer to some of the frames, just to look at the kids on the generic black and white pictures they put in the frames. Seriously. I was totally checking to see if this child picture frame model had epicanthal folds. This old lady walks down the aisle towards me, and I didn't even realize she was there because I was so transfixed by hoping this child had skin flaps in the corner of her eyes.

 The lady sees me doing this and walks right up to me and says "Do you recognize her, dear?"

 uhhhh.......

 "um no. (nervous laughter)".

I booked it out of the store without buying anything, I was that mortified. Not that she knew what I was doing. But I still felt ashamed.

It gets worse. The other day I was playing barbies with Bells and I literally checked Barbie's hand for Palmer creases. I wanted to see if they would be there, and if they would be "anatomically correct." Yup. They were there. And yup, there were three of them. No fears guys. Barbie does NOT have a genetic syndrome.

So I decided that I had gone beyond the normal and healthy, and crossed over into the psycho and obsessed world of self diagnosing my child. I am going back to seeing her as nothing more than my beautiful and normal 4 year old. Because even with something different in her DNA, she has more in common with a normal child than not. She's perfect to me.

I have had doctors, BCMH nurses, family, friends, and my husband tell me how unhealthy it is to be googling and searching endlessly for answers as often as I was. Funny how it took picture frames and Barbie dolls to make me realize it.

I'm off to enjoy a weekend of bliss with my perfectly imperfect little family. I'm sure there will be fab pictures and stories to come :)