So I'm walking back from the kitchen with two big glasses of water for my sick family (all of us are going down now with me working on a sore throat, Lily with 103 temp, Anya in teething hell and Mark coughing up a lung) when I notice Anya holding something in her hand. It looked just out of place enough and small enough that I got down next to her to look, right about the time she started screaming. She was holding a bee. I got her to drop it by shaking her hand while saying, "OH GOD, LET IT GO, WHAT ARE YOU CRAZY, NO NO!!..." etc. You see, I'm allergic to bees. Not the failure-to-be-able-to-breathe kinda allergic, just the wow-who-knew-a-hand-could-swell-so-big kinda allergic, so I kinda panicked. I finally found the stinger in the other hand, which implies my little girl got stung and then reached over and tore the bee off her finger and was in the process of teaching him a thing or two when I found her. You go, girl. Mark yanked out the stinger and we got some ice on her hand pronto. Then I panicked some more and called the doctor and my midwife (who is a holistic heath goddess). Everyone agreed the ice was good and gave me the signs to look for a severe reaction. There's always the worry that when one parent has an atypical reaction to a bee sting that the kid will too. So far no trouble breathing and now she's sleeping peacefully with me checking on her breathing every, oh... two seconds. Mark ran to the store and got the topical Benadryl the doctor suggested so hopefully her finger will look less like a sausage soon. I am calming down (kinda) and hoping that nothing else shows up to mess with my family's health.
Holding a bee... seriously, WHO DOES THAT? Geez. Crazy baby.
