We had a great Memorial weekend, but it didn’t start out so great. We had plans to go to Palmyra and Cooperstown leaving Friday after Chris got off work, but on Thursday Peter woke up from his nap early covered in horrible hives. I had never seen anything like it personally. He was writhing on the floor moaning and saying “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” He’s pretty dramatic in general so it’s hard to tell how much pain he’s really in, but it definitely looked bad. The doctor said it was a food allergy, but it was already starting to look better. A little later that evening I gave him a glass of milk and it flared up again. Milk. I had completely forgotten about Peter’s milk sensitivity when he was a baby. He couldn’t eat things like mac and cheese without getting a rash around his mouth where it touched.
The hives were still there in the morning, but we decided to go ahead and go on our trip. I picked up Chris from work at 2pm and we started our travels from there.
Peter had been mostly in good spirits through the day, but perhaps being confined to his car seat made him all the more aware of his itchy, inflamed hives. He cried and whined and we decided to make a stop. Chris gave him a blessing and blessed him that he would feel immediate relief and that the hives would go away. A short shopping trip to pick up some dairy-free snacks and another 10 minutes down the road and Peter’s hives were almost gone. I’m so, so grateful for the power of the priesthood and for a husband who honors and respects the sacred gift and responsibility he’s been given. It was a powerful experience for me to feel the closeness and significance of the family unit in that moment.
[UPDATE: We went dairy-free for a week for Peter and then started adding things back into his diet. He never had another allergic reaction. I don't know if it was a reaction to milk at all, but I'm very, very grateful he's back to his pizza, yogurt, and crackers lifestyle. This potential life-change occupied a lot of my thoughts the whole weekend.]
We needed to make it to Buffalo that night and we pulled in to our hotel around 11:30. The kids settled into bed pretty well and we had a surprisingly restful night. Alice didn’t even wake up once. We hit the road early the next morning to make it to Cooperstown by noon for the game. 11 hours driving time in total. Originally we were just going to go out and do Palmyra for memorial weekend, but when Chris found out that Cooperstown and the Baseball Hall of Fame were just 2.5 hours beyond Palmyra, it just made sense to add it on to this trip. Plus there was a big event in Cooperstown where recently retired major league players play a game at Doubleday Field and it was happening that weekend. So, 11 hours it was. We loved the drive in to Cooperstown. It was quite a ways off the freeway, but just gorgeous. The town was charming and buzzing with baseball fans. Chris was in heaven. The Baseball Hall of Fame was his favorite part, and he beamed through the whole museum.
Jane was nervous about standing up there with the statue, but not about to let that stop her from drinking the fresh lemonade.
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