Your ear is blue and its blinking. . .

That's what someone told me last Saturday at my daughter's end of season soccer party. Then they scolded me for not leaving my Bluetooth at home.

"Hey, give me a break," I said. "I'm expecting an important call."

I'm always on-call. I'm a mother of two special needs children and, like most of my kind, I'm afraid to leave the house without my cell phone. I don't even sit in the backyard without it.

It's more than just a matter of convenience. In some cases, it's my children's lifeline. I can't begin to count the number of times I've received calls from one of their schools, Sunday school teachers, coaches or daycare providers.

I'm more relaxed about the kids' issues than I used to be, but I still panic when they're out and about and an unknown number shows up on my caller ID. Like today, when I missed a call, because I forgot to turn on my Bluetooth after dropping my son off for his first day at Vacation Bible School. I held my breath and prepared for the worst when I called the number back.

Turns out it was just the dentist's office calling to remind my husband about his appointment. Darn those backline numbers. They never show up on my caller ID.

I realize that I'm obsessive, but I have to be. If I let down my guard, I'll get hit in the head with a big fat asthma attack, or, in my daughter's case, an autistic-style nuclear meltdown.

I'm currently expecting the former and experiencing the latter.

My 6-year-old tazmanian devil came home from VBS with a headache and spent the next 3 hours lying down on the couch. That's a bad sign for a kid, who's usually spinning his wheels in 50 different directions. It means he's getting sick and, when he gets sick, his asthma flares. It's bound to happen this week anyway, since he's going to stay with relatives for three weeks starting this Friday.

Never forget Nianya's Law: If anything can go wrong, it will, at the worst possible moment!

As for the nuclear melt-down. What kind of orthodontist makes an autistic 12-year-old wear so many rubber bands in her mouth that she can barely talk and has to eat through a straw? My daughter has spent most of her life in speech therapy learning how to talk and her ortho practically wired her mouth shut today, less than a week before her big trip to the Grand Canyon.

Which brings me back to my main point. I'm going to have to chill out next week and let others take control for a change, at least as far as my son is concerned. My son will be in another state with his grandmother and aunt, my husband will be home alone and I will be across the country with limited cell phone service.

Say a prayer for me friends, I'm going to need it.

Nianya

P.S. Does anyone have a remedy for Bluetooth withdrawal?