One Family's Life in the Austin Area

The transition to digital has been a series of ups and downs for us with disappointments, challenges, found gems, lost gems. You see, we are one of those households with an old TV, no cable, and rabbit ears - well, ear singular, since one broke off during a previous move.

The converter box - We applied for one of those government coupons, but it didn't arrive in the mail before we moved (so the new tenants in our old apartment must have gotten it instead). We applied for another coupon at our new address, but it arrived just as our baby was due, and by the time we were capable of opening our sleep-deprived eyes, focusing, and reading our coupon, it had expired.

Since we'd already received one at our house address, we couldn't request another coupon (even using my name instead of Ronak's, which doesn't make sense because we have different surnames, so we could be of different households. We aren't, but we could be).

Finally, the day came when we could reapply, but we'd be on a long list - which would be just fine, because they postponed the switch to digital, right?

Wrong! Many of our local stations decided to switch on the original date. So we researched converter boxes in a rush and bought one sans coupon.

Installation and Programming - Ronak hooked the box up. He tried to program it, and our baby was happy to help. Together, they successfully found some channels - including new ones in English, Spanish, and a computer-generated voice. (Unfortunately their combined effort also led to the on/off switch not being properly programmed, so we have to use the DVD remote or get up and push the on/off button on the TV.)

We were very excited to see that we got additional PBS channels and an extra CBS retro channel. This was exciting because we could watch It Takes a Thief, A-Team, Kojak, Ironside, Simon & Simon, Knightrider Battlestar Galactica, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Rockford Files, etc. (Not that we had much time for TV with a small child.) We discovered new classics, and I realized that some of my old favorites were not worthy of the term "classics." We saw we had new craft, cooking, and travel shows on PBS. Then we suddenly realized we had no Fox channels at all.

This was a problem, because two of the very few shows we watch are So You Think You Can Dance and Dollhouse - both on Fox. We hit the internet to research again, and found out we needed a new antennae. Fox's signal wasn't strong enough to be picked up by one lonely rabbit ear.

Ronak considered building one out of coat hangers, but with a small baby in the mix, there just wasn't the time nor the space for such a project.

Ronak ran out to Wal-mart to buy one. (For anyone who knows us this was an extremely difficult decision, because Wal-mart is evil, but the antennae was going to be another unbudgeted addition after we had already had to purchase a convertor box without a coupon.)

So Ronak, with a heavy heart, bought the antennae at Wal-mart and checked it out in the parking lot. Lucky he did, because the box had been repackaged and was missing pieces. As he was taking it back into the store, he witnessed a customer, who had left her dogs in her car in 100 degree heat, screaming at an animal rescue person for trying to take her dogs from her. That was the last straw. Ronak returned his purchase, and left for the slightly pricier but also (hopefully) less-evil Target where he bought an antennae that was unopened and intact, and he drove away from a parking lot where the customers were kinder to their pets.

The antennae worked! And we were able to pick up Fox.

Recording Shows - I happily programmed the VCR (Yes, VCR. What do you expect from people using a single rabbit ear for years?) to record Dollhouse. We record most shows we watch because we live in central time where prime time ends at 10:00 pm (9:00 pm on Fox and CW), and we are parents with a busy schedule from dinnertime until 10:00 pm (if we're lucky). There's eating, play time, bath, pajamas, teeth brushing, story time, bed time, kitchen cleanup, and by the time we can sit down and relax, prime time is usually over. (Besides, most TV shows are not baby-interesting or baby-appropriate.)

Anyway, I set the VCR to record Dollhouse. Later that night, Ronak and I eagerly rewound, hit play, and all we saw was snow, snow, and more snow. Luckily, the episode was available on Hulu the next day, but we still needed to know what went wrong, so we could correctly tape shows in the future.

We finally figured out the problem: I had taped the VCR's channel 7 when I needed to tape the converter box's channel 7 that could only be retrieved through recording the channel "Line 1" on the VCR.

Armed with our new knowledge, Ronak set the VCR to record Dollhouse the following Friday. We eagerly sat down to see the show, knowing we'd done everything right this time. But there was no sound, only subtitles. We looked at each other blankly, then realized that Ronak had the converter box set to mute - which apparently it can record in.

The next week, we used line 1, made sure mute was off, and were able to enjoy a little prime time shortly after real prime time. And we haven't had any weird VCR recording malfunctions since.

But we still need to figure out a workaround when we go on vacation. The converter box shuts itself off when the TV hasn't been used in a while, and if it's off, there's nothing coming in from Line 1, but snow, snow, and more snow.

And I have to say I miss the days of grainy picture and garbled sound. I grew up on that fair weather signal. Now, we either have it or we don't. We'll be watching a show, then the picture and/or the sound just isn't there suddenly. Makes for challenging viewing some days when we have to guess the words and/or scenes we are missing.

But it's still cheaper than cable, and we get more channels than the 1-4 I was able to watch growing up in the Hollow (depending on the number of leaves on the trees), so I guess I can't complain - much.

Last weekend, we had perfect weather for an outside adventure, so we headed over to Williamson County Regional Park, home of Cedar Rock Railroad.

Nish loves anything with wheels, and he enjoyed the little train at the B.Y.D.E.E. Festival, so we thought a 1.3 miles ride on a 1/4 scale miniature train would make his day.

Sophie (the train) pulled out soon after we arrived at the park, so we had a short wait until the train's return.

Nish amused himself by playing with nifty sticks and rocks he discovered in the woods. Ronak and I later amused ourselves by changing Nish's diaper. Then there were more rocks and more sticks. Then Sophie finally came around the bend.

Nish was so excited to see her.

We purchased our tickets and climbed on board. A slow, steady stream of riders arrived and joined us.

Then, with a whistle, we were off.

The tracks took us through woods, past athletic fields, through meadows of butterflies that flitted in and out of the train ...

... past a pond and hiking trail ...

... until we arrived at the spooky entrance to a tunnel, all decorated for Halloween.

The tunnel wasn't too scary, but it was a bit more than I would have liked to have exposed my one-year-old to. But Nish didn't seem to mind. It was just one small part of a very exciting train trip.

Then Sophie headed back into the woods, and we arrived back at the train depot.

Nish handled the end of this ride better than his last. Perhaps because he was surrounded by so many tempting sticks and rocks.

We'll definitely be back again.

Map of Williamson County Regional Park

I hadn't been to an eye doctor since I moved to Austin 2 1/2 years ago, because, frankly, I don't like to go to any kind of doctor if I don't have to - and I still had a supply of contacts, so I didn't have to.

But this summer, after almost 3 years since my last exam, my lens supply was dwindling and I was started to have trouble focusing, so I hit Yelp and hoped for some decent reviews for optometrists located in Cedar Park. (I mistakenly chose a dentist way down in South Austin. Not good to have healthcare visits that could be considered day trips.)

I have certain criteria when I choose an eye doctor:

1. No liquids in my eyes (a.k.a. dilation).
2. No super-strong prescriptions. I'm not looking for eagle vision, just the regular human variety.
3. No inappropriate comments or glances. (Yes, Dr. Weber, this rule was made just for you.)
4. Don't call me. I'll call you - and only if I am out of contact lenses.

You'd think that I should have run out of lenses long before three years, and you'd be right. I should have, but I stretch them. A daily would be a weekly; a weekly a monthly; a monthly a yearly... You get the idea.

Long ago I saw a special, investigative, behind the scenes report on the contact lens industry. They revealed that contacts cost just 8 cents to make, but are sold for much more. (My Acuvues cost $45 a box which breaks down to $7.50 a lens.) They also said that there was no difference between disposables (daily/weekly/monthlies) and non-disposables (yearlies).

So, being the frugal-distrusting-of-doctors person that I am, I didn't keep track of how long I wore those "monthly" contacts and popped them in every morning until they tore, escaped down the drain, or irritated my eye. (Actually those last ones were kept in a spare "holding container" until it could be determined if they were responsible for the irritation or if it was really a stray eyelash or piece of grit.

With this system, one month disposables can last as long as a year if they are treated with care and the benefit of a doubt. I've been prolonging the life of my contacts for years and with no repercussions - I thought.

Until this summer when I started having difficulty seeing, focusing. It scared me - enough to try out a new eye doctor. (And my contact lens supply was running low anyway, so making the appointment was inevitable.)

This was my first eye exam since becoming a mom (and the first in almost three years), so I was rusty and I was busy and I ran out the door forgetting my spare pair of very outdated glasses, my contact case, and my saline solution.

Anyone who is as myopic as I am knows that missing all these items makes for a very strange visit. Once the contacts were out, I was walking blind. I couldn't even see the face of my new doctor to know if he were violating rule number 3. His blurry high-energy head was flitting about like a swarm of blurry peach butterflies.

He told me something new: eyes need to breathe and mine hadn't been. He said my Acuviews were good contacts but old technology, and my oxygen-deprived eyes were compensating by growing blood vessels all over my eyes. (I had noticed that they were redder than before but attributed this to my baby and lack of sleep). He wanted me to try out some new lenses that let in more air.

I was dubious, but I thought it couldn't hurt to try a free pair of new contacts. (I was wrong.)

He also told me that the intense over 100 degree, dry heat was probably the cause of my inability to focus. The desert conditions were drying out my contacts in a way I'd probably never experienced before, causing visual disturbances. He said he'd had a steady traffic of patients with the same problem.

That was a bit reassuring, but I still wondered if these new lenses were more costly and if scaring me with the idea of blood vessels growing all over my eye was the marketing tactic. (I studied advertising in my psych classes. I know about using fear as a motivator.)

I decided to take his trojan lenses and do some research on the internet once I got home. I had some trouble seeing on my drive back, but I didn't know if I should attribute that to the new lenses or to seeing nothing but blurry shapes for the last half hour.

When I checked the web, I found out he was telling the truth. Eyes that don't breathe develop blood vessels that can eventually lead to vision problems. I decided to give the new lenses a week to see if things improved. The doctor seemed to think that the vessels might recede a bit even after that short a time.

But day two with the new lenses, I was feeling nauseous and still having trouble focusing. I had to take a trip to San Antonio the next day, and decided I would just wear my old Acuvues. At home I could close my eyes occasionally when I felt ill, but that wouldn't be possible while I was watching that Nish didn't fall in the water at Riverwalk. So I skipped a day, then went back to the doctor's experiment.

When I saw him the next Monday, he told me that my eyes were much better. He asked me how I liked the contacts, and I told him they made me want to close my eyes and vomit. (And they dried out faster than my supposedly oxygen-depriving Acuvues.)

Apparently I'm not the first person to have experienced such a thing. He explained that the chemistry of the contacts were incompatible with the chemistry of my tears. (I'd never heard of such a thing.) And he gave me a new brand to try for another week.

Well, these contacts were much better. I was able to walk without holding my head, and there was no nausea - a vast improvement. But were they really better than my old Acuvues?

I found out while cooking up a stir fry. I cried.

I've been chopping up onions for years without any effect. I thought maybe I had extraordinary eyes, immune to the potent fumes. Seems I was just wearing super shields that weren't letting any air through at all.

So I bought a year's supply of the new contacts, promised myself I wouldn't stretch them, and began crying over onions, because my eyes gotta breathe.

(Epilogue: There's no way I can stretch these contacts, because they tear before the thirty days are up. Guess that's the cost for getting oxygen to my eyes?)

I don't purport to know all the rules about the handling of American flags. (Most of what I do know, I learned in elementary school as we took turns hoisting, lowering, and folding the flag in a perfect triangular shape.)

I know:

1. There are no rules about burning them, but some people would like there to be.
2. If it's raining, you should bring your flag in to protect it from the elements. (At least that's what we did in school).
3. You shouldn't let the flag touch the ground.
4. Flags are sometimes raised only to half-mast to show respect and grief.

I'm not sure what the occasion could be for this particular American flag display:

Celebrating American Flag Origami Day? (A new holiday perhaps?)

Whatever the meaning, someone in our neighborhood has maintained this flag display for the last few days.

It's interesting, but I think it's the wind that should take all the credit. Yes, that Texas wind can be quite creative.

But I don't think the West Hurley Elementary School teachers would approve. They would have sent us out in the elements to fold up that flag and bring it in.

Click here to find out actual Flag Rules and Regulations.

Sorry for the alarmist title, but I thought "New Restaurant at The Arboretum Uses Peanut Oil and Serves Peanuts in the Shell, so Parents of Peanut-Allergy Kids Should Be Careful at the Park" was a little long.

That's about it in a nutshell, a peanut shell.

Fives Guys Burgers and Fries opened recently at The Arboretum, right around the corner from Amy's Ice Cream. For those of you who know The Arboretum area, that's very close to the outside eating area, which is right next to the fountains and the cow sculptures where many kids play.

Five Guys is proud of using peanut oil to fry their food and for serving peanuts in the shell. They say so on their website:

Q: If so many people are allergic to peanuts, why does Five Guys continue to offer them?

A: Over the past 20 years, peanuts have become part of the Five Guys identity. We by no means want to exclude guests from our store, but at the same time we would not want to disappoint our peanut eating guests. We make sure that we have signage on our doors and in our restaurants about the fact that we serve peanuts in bulk containers as we would never want someone to risk their health by coming into our restaurants.

(Five Guys FAQ)

They do have signage in the form of white boxes piled by the windows that state that they serve peanuts and that the peanuts should not be removed from the restaurant. And they are prominent enough that I noticed and read them, but I'm an observant person. (If I were a cat, my curiosity would have done me in by now.) But I wonder how many people will miss or ignore the signage. The same people who smoke in hospitals and park in handicapped spots and let their untrained dogs run leashless in parks.

Nish's favorite park has suddenly become a much more dangerous place for him to visit. I guess there was always the chance of families picnicking with peanut butter sandwiches or peanut M&Ms or beef satay. (For all I know there is peanut butter smeared all over the legs of those cow sculptures.)

But it's kind of like having a stagnant pool of water at the edge of the park; it's more likely that you'll be bitten by mosquitoes that way. The odds of peanut exposure have increased to the same levels that we have to worry about when we travel by plane. (They won't serve peanuts on our flight, but left over peanut bits are everywhere. I saw some between my seat and the wall on just my last trip.) Air travel is a peanut-allergic child's parent's nightmare - as is visiting The Arboretum now.

On the other hand, our guard definitely won't be down. We'll be sponging down cows with sanitary wipes. We won't be more than 3 inches behind our child and his exploring fingers, ready to tackle, sanitize, and Benadryl him at a moment's notice. We'll run interference with friendly children, subjecting them to dietary history questions (When was the last time you ate a nut product and when did you last have a thorough bath - with soap?), and covering their little hands with sanitizing foam. (We'll be ready for secret service work after a few trips to the park, and we'll do an amazing job if potential threats are in the form of something small and legume-shaped.)

The Arboretum may no longer be a fun, relaxing, restful (well, as much of those things as it can be with a toddler anyway), but my son should be safe with his extra-vigilant parents by his side.

What about the places that we think are safe? The bead table at the library? The trains at Barnes and Nobles? The swings at the playground? The little girl who likes to give hugs at the grocery store? Shopping carts? The list goes on. Because for a food-allergic kid the world is a mine-field.

Have you checked the list of ingredients on your foods lately? There are nut products hidden in everything, and if not in the food you actually purchased, probably somewhere at the processing plant where that food was made. This makes grocery shopping longer and more tedious, reading those teeny tiny labels for one more thing to avoid.

Do we want nuts eradicated from The Arboretum, the playground, the restaurants, the grocery store? Sure, it would make our lives easier. We could relax and stay maybe four steps behind our inquisitive toddler (There are many dangers beyond his food allergy), but nuts are a good source of protein and tasty. I miss eating my nuts. I love peanut sauces on spring rolls. I love peanut M&Ms and Peanut Butter Cups and Mr. Goodbars.

In fact, those are the candies I usually purchase to hand out at Halloween (hoping no trick-or-treaters show up, and I can have them all to myself). But now I have to rethink Halloween completely. I don't want my kid getting candies he's allergic to. And I don't feel right handing them out anymore. I fear I'm going to become box-of-raisins-lady or fruit-roll-up-woman. But they're healthier, and the kids' dentists and maybe their parents too (if they aren't the primary treat eaters) will thank me. Meanwhile the trick-or-treaters will probably leave a "steaming goody bag" on my porch.

It's not easy to explain in a short meet-and-greet time:

Door opens.
Kids: Trick or treat!
Me: You look adorable. What's that a ghost? A monster? A pumpkin? Wow! Listen, my son is allergic to peanuts and possibly other nuts, and chocolates are produced in factories that handle nuts. And even artificial nut flavoring is made by stripping down peanuts. So long story short, no chocolates here. Please don't leave me any presents on my porch. Happy Halloween!"

I guess I could hand out Skittles or Starbursts. I'll have to check the ingredients and make sure there aren't any hidden ingredients: peanut flour, groundnuts, made on machinery that also processes peanuts. You just never know.

Which is why we are three steps behind our toddler, ready to tackle, sanitize, and Benadryl.

Oh no! Out of the way! I see a green peanut M&M on the sidewalk! Clear the area! Clear the area! Oh wait, it's a leaf. False alarm. I'll just get up from the ground now. Wait! What's that over by the tree? Got to go find out! Look out!