Again?!

I'm home with feverish Kirk. Again. It's just way too similar to what happened two weeks ago. He was hot all night and tossed and turned and we administered Tylenol every 6 hours. When we got up this morning he was burning. He had an ancillary (armpit) temp of 102.2 so I decided to keep him at home. Of course once the latest dose of Tylenol kicked in he was close to normal.

I feel like he's been to the doctor 80 million times in the last month or so. I decided to just call the Nurse Line. I feel much better about being able to simply keep him under observation instead of rushing him in to a clinic now.

The thing is, I'm 90% sure it's teething, possibly with a small cold thrown in for good measure. But there seems to be a major rift regarding teething: is fever a symptom or not? Doctors, parents, and daycare providers all line up on one side or the other. Kirk has other symptoms that are acknowledged as teething signs--he didn't eat much last night, he's got an excess of drool/snot, he's grinding his teeth, he's occasionally tugging on his ear. Then again, those can also indicate other issues, which is why we took him in last time. But he got a clean bill of health from Doc just last week so I'd be shocked if he's got another ear infection again already.

Molars are supposed to be a major bitch. Last weekend while pushing Kirk in the swing at the park, he leaned back and laughed and I saw that one of his molars had cut through. Interesting timing. So I'm inclined to think that he's working on another molar. I don't remember fever being involved for the front teeth. He was extra bitey, but that's about it. I'm not ready to pick a side but I'm definitely leaning towards fever=teething.

Spoonie Love

Kirk's favorite thing in the world is a spoon. I gave him a shitty old wooden spoon that had a chunk out of it so I obviously couldn't use it for cooking anymore. He didn't let go of it for weeks. He'd bring it in the bathtub. He'd carry it out to the car. It traveled everywhere. It went missing earlier this week. I haven't got a clue where it might be.

But the spoon fetish continues. It doesn't really seem to matter the type, size, shape, materials, anything. He's just as happy with a metal serving spoon as he is with a plastic soup spoon. My mom told me tonight that my sister went through a major spoon phase when she was little, too. Is that kind of weirdness hereditary?!

The Devil

We wanted Kirk to be a skeleton for Halloween but couldn't find an outfit in his size. Demon was an excellent back-up plan.


Kirk was quite enamoured of his Jack-o-Lantern bucket even before we went Trick-or-Treating. We only went to a handful of houses, maybe 8 in all. He didn't quite get how it worked, and Mr. b had to hold him the whole time, but it was still fun. He got so cold by the end though that Mr. b gave him a bath while I passed out candy.

On Saturday we attended Suctionprint's annual costume party.



Kirk spent most of his time playing near, but not necessarily with, the only other little guy that attended.



Kitchen implements were the favorite toy. Naturally.

Sick and Tired of Sickness

It’s annual benefits enrollment time at work. I need to finally really research my options. I haven’t paid attention since I first started. I need to make sure that I've got the right insurance now that there's more than just me and won't-go-to-the-doctor-even-though-he-totally-broke-his-hands-falling-off-his-bike Mr. b.

This new-fangled health care spending account thing is pretty cool. Same with the daycare spending account. I like the idea of paying for necessities like baby Tylenol pre-tax. Sure, it’s complicated, but I think it’s going to be worth it. And lord knows that at times like this, I can use a way to avoid the myriad clinic co-pays coming directly out of our checking account.

We took Kirk off his antibiotics on Sunday. His ass was worse than I’ve ever seen. It was _thisclose_ to blistering with diaper rash. We had been trying to just muscle through but then he got a mysterious rash all over his back and front, too. It didn’t seem to be itchy, just red and slightly bumpy. Sunday night was awful. We brought Kirk into bed because of his frequent awakening. But even that didn’t really help. He wasn’t feverish like last week. But he was whimpering and crying most of the night. Clearly, something is the matter. His batted at his infected ear a couple of times but both Mr. b and I got the feeling that it was teething and/or growth spurt.

Last night Kirk only woke up once and he went back to sleep after some cuddles and a couple of ounces of milk. Thursday I get my stitches removed and so Doc had me schedule Kirk at the same time for an ear check. It’ll be interesting to hear what she has to say about this whole saga. I’m guessing she’ll have him get the ear infection shot that the other doctor mentioned when we brought him in last week. I sure hope the poor boy gets over this blasted thing soon.

At least it’s Samhain. So I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.

Bad Timing

Why does everything inevitably happen at once?

Tuesday morning I went in to have 3 moles removed. They were big, the one on my back huge, and weird, and I'd had them my whole life. I watched the one on my chest change and get bigger during pregnancy, yet another fun side-effect, and knew the others were doing the same. I figured since I've given birth, I ought to be able to handle a little minor out-patient surgery. 'Sides, Doc fancies herself an amateur plastic surgeon, so I didn't even have to get referred to a dermatologist.

The problem was that the Novocain knocked me on my ass. And when it wore off, I was in pain. And then Kirk got sick.

Tuesday night Kirk just didn't seem right but I couldn't put my finger on it. He woke up in the middle of the night with a high fever and was just burning up in bed with us the rest of the night. I managed to get him a doctor appointment in the morning. There was blood on my jammie shirt from the mole holes. I was so worried about him. I just felt like Kirk has had something pretty much constantly for the last several months. Is that a sign of something more serious? I know babies don't have much of an immune system. This is what he's working on building. But I still couldn't keep the paranoia completely at bay.

The doctor said that his ear was infected. The same ear that Doc discovered was infected at his 15 month appointment. Basically the ear infection fluid can sit around in the ear, not causing any troubles, until one day it suddenly decides to get all germy again and then bam! Sigh. Doc had put Kirk on a different antibiotic since he had just come off Amoxicillin for the pink eye. So that means that Kirk is now on a third antibiotic to try to clear up the lingering infection.

I, of course, had to stay home with the poor sick boy yesterday. And my mole holes still hurt. And Kirk was still quite fevery. Then at dinner, he threw up. He gagged from trying to stick too many peanuts in his mouth at once and then spewed. Sure, it was mainly liquid; he really hadn't eaten much. But that's still not a good sign. And then the splattery farting started. Thank gods for diapers!

Mr. b managed to switch shifts so he could stay home with the boy today. And he got a hold of the pharmacist who said that the main side effect of this particular medication is an upset stomach and diarrhea. Yay.

Unfortunately that means that Mr. b is at work right now and Kirk keeps waking up. He woke up while I was in the shower. He woke up while I was contorting to try and change my mole dressings. He woke up when Mr. b called to find out how he was doing. I think he'll be able to go to daycare tomorrow, he really is doing much better, but I don't think he'll make it through the whole night in his crib.

The upside to all this is that I think I finally found the magazine I've been looking for. My mom always gets me a subscription to something for Christmas. For years it was Newsweek. I don't have time for another weekly magazine these days; I can barely keep up with Entertainment Weekly! So last year I requested that she get me Jane instead. I used to love Jane. Who doesn't? I was a Sassy girl and it was the perfect transition. But it had been several years since I actually opened an issue of Jane. I'm just _thismuch_ too old and/or mature for it. I really don't need tips for hooking up with emo guys at the rock show, hangover remedies for the next morning, or instructions on how to change my outfit so my coworkers can't tell I'm wearing the same thing the next day. I like the fashion but the rest is mostly useless. But where do I turn? I love the recipes in your Good Housekeeping/Ladies Home Journal/Redbook type mags but there's nothing else interesting. Parents is too "I'm my kid's mom". Vogue/Elle/Cosmo is too one-note. Where's the happy medium? Why can't moms care about stylish clothes, fun meals, child care tips, and human interest stories all at once? Why must I segregate all aspects of my life just because I've had a kid? That doesn't make sense. While waiting to go in for my mole removal, I discovered that I'm not the only one that thinks so. Cookie caught my eye. I need to request that my mom gets me that. I think it's my Grail.

The Life of the Party

For probably my whole life I’ve noticed that all the kids at a wedding reception naturally gravitate together into the Kid Brigade. I’m sure I was part of it when I was little. But it’s entirely different when it’s your own son that’s trying to join up.

Sitting in the ultra swank theater on Saturday evening, trying to keep Kirk from falling off the intricately leveled platforms containing becandled tables, I realized that he was always aiming in the same direction. I helped him down to the main floor and he was off—-directly towards the other kids. It was so cute watching them all. Some were dancing like Kirk by bending their knees and bouncing up and down. The slightly older little girls were doing more interpretive moves, spinning, holding their arms out, and the like. They were bumping against each other in their little stumbling routes, just like a mini-mosh pit. Frackin’ adorable.

Chatting with several of the moms, I discovered that although a couple also had 15-month-olds, they didn’t think they’d be able to handle the wedding and so left them with sitters. There were lots of younger babies around being passed between aunties and cousins. And there were plenty of kids in the 18-24 month range. So what it is about 15 months that makes them bad wedding attendees? I thought Kirk did great! Mr. b and his buddy had great fun tagging along after him as he wandered around the floor, weaving in and around legs, pausing to explore under the stage or pet a patent leather shoe.

The only time Kirk had a fit was when I took away his rock candy coffee stirrer. Pure sugar. He did not need that. Especially not after sharing my piece of cake. He was pissed. It was pretty funny.

Baa Baa Black Sheep Shut Up!

Kirk has undergone a pretty major developmental leap. He gets stuff. Things that before were trial and error he now does intentionally. He remembers things previously shown to him. He reacts to things.

It's making playing with him so much fun. He is starting to put the shapes in the shape sorter now and not just shaking the pieces out as violently as possible. He likes putting anything that fits--or doesn't fit--into the Pound-a-Ball and watching it travel through. He high-fives. He puts his brush to his head to try to do his hair.

I was reading books to him last night. I always like to try to connect real examples of things that we see on the page. So if we see a piggie, then I'll spin the See 'n Say to the piggie. We were reading Hop on Pop and I gave him a red ball for Ball Ball We All Play Ball. I pointed to the kitty when Pat Sat on the Cat. No Pat No! Don't Sit on That! (A cactus.) Kirk gasped! It was so adorable.

The problem is that he also figured out how to get Baby Tad to actually play songs on purpose and not just because he accidentally hit the right button. And he was doing this for over an hour last night starting at about 1:45am. As soon as it would get quiet, and I'd get my hopes up that he fell back to sleep, "Hickory, Dickory, Dock" would start up again. Yet I was also overcome with pride at one point when I could hear him clapping along to "If You're Happy and You Know It". All this was alternating with crying. I gave up at about 3 and brought him into bed with us.

Mr. b says that he knew Kirk was going to be up in the middle of the night before we went to bed. Both of us are in the habit of peeking in on the boy before we go to sleep. Normally he's in complete disarray in his crib. Last night he was still in virtually the same position as when I put him down. His blanket was even mostly on him. Mr. b has noticed that when he's not restless right away, it comes in the middle of the night. I'm not sure how the knowledge of this pattern is going to help us. I suppose just so we're prepared for a shitty night's sleep.

What's the sign for "naughty"?

At his last check-up, Doc asked if Kirk was having tantrums yet. We didn't really know how to react to that question. Is he supposed to be? Are we just lucky that he isn't? Is that what our near future holds? It just seemed so soon to be worrying about tantrums. He's too young for that, right? The sign language is supposed to help mitigate that, right?

Kirk's a very mild mannered young man. But he's crossed the line now into true toddler. Because he was indeed throwing tantrums yesterday. I was baking cookies for my office potluck lunch. Kirk has never liked it when either of us are busy in the kitchen and not paying attention to him. But Mr. b was home so I figured he'd just be hanging with Daddy. Nope. He was underfoot the whole time I was mixing and baking. If I'd been wearing an apron, the cliché would have been true. It was unbelievable. When he's older I'll let him help me but 15 months is still too little. I picked him up in between ingredients and showed him the bowl. I let him play with the measuring spoons and cups when I was done with them. But none of it really helped. He was mad. And he started screaming.

It was sort of fascinating/hilarious to watch him get so bent. He was crying but there were no tears. He'd sort of bounce while whining. Putting him in his chair to supervise the action was only a temporary solution. I actually yelled at him at one point, which cracked Mr. b up. I even put him in his crib as a time-out. The tantrums didn't stop until I finished the last batch.

And I don't think that the lack of communication had anything to do with it. I knew exactly what he wanted: Mommy. A few weeks ago he came up with his own sign for "up" which is cupping his hands together at the wrist (similar to the Ferengi posture of penance). I know what that means. I just couldn't make good on his request. I needed both hands.

But I do find it interesting that he's come up with his own sign. We never used anything for "up". I keep trying to integrate more and more signs into my regular speaking. I'm a language junkie anyway so it's a good excuse for me to learn. Sometimes I feel like Kirk thinks that the signs are his own private language with me because I use them so much more. I know that K does some at daycare and Mr. b certainly does some. But I also see subtle distinctions in Kirk's signing--like his difference between "milk" and the catch-all that he does, basically "want" or "gimme"--that don't seem to be apparent to anyone else. Maybe that's due to my inate language talent and maybe it's just wishful thinking.

Eddi and the Fey

Back in January I described two kinds of familiarity felt while encountering pop culture with which I was more personally acquainted with the subject matter than the average bear. I just encountered a third. I read the novel War for the Oaks, by Emma Bull, on the repeated recommendation of my aunt and the coincedental recommendation of morrigan. It was astounding. The basic plot revolves around a Faerie War and their need for a mortal to be involved. Said mortal is Eddi McCandry, a guitar chick in a go-nowhere cover band. That right there would be enough to suck me in! Oh but this Faerie War is being fought in and around Minneapolis.

Every conflict between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts takes place in a location I know. Peavey Plaza? Among other things, Mr. b asked me to marry him there. Minnehaha Falls? Among other things, ahem, Mr. b threw a surprise birthday picnic for me there. Como Conservatory? Among other things, site of Jon's first wedding. And it wasn't just the major places either. The basic geography is perfectly accurate. When Eddi ran down Nicollet, I could envision every single block. When neighborhoods were mentioned, I knew exactly where they were and how they were laid out. It was fascinating and slightly distracting. I would find myself taken outside of the very exciting and engrossing story until I could mentally picture the setting, and then go back in.

On top of the visceral familiarity with the locale, this book was written in the late 80s. That meant that I was sometimes revising. The New Riverside Cafe has been closed for several years--but Mr. b just played a show at the 400 Bar so I was down that street mere weekends ago! Seven-Elevens no longer exist. Run-down warehouses have been replaced by gentrifying condos. But that kind of mental exercise was actually quite fun!

The 80s setting also meant that there was some removal from the Minneapolis music scene--when dealing with bands as opposed to the Fey Folk that is!--that I'm getting to know again currently and was so ensconced in the 90s. And yet, some things never change. The decor at First Ave being one! And who hasn't met Curtiss A?

I intend to demand that everyone I know in town that is in some way involved with bands read this book. If they're a fan of fantasy, too, so much the better. But the setting itself is trippy enough! The great story is just the icing.

Reasons Why I’m a Bad Mom

I scratched Kirk’s nose this morning. Of course, he didn’t notice at all, but every time I looked over at him I felt sick about it. I’m so glad that his medicine is nearly at an end so I won’t have to struggle with him about it anymore (until the next time). I’ve nicked his nose before; my nails just grow long! I don’t do it on purpose! Well, as K reminded me this morning when I dropped the boy off, if that’s the worst that I do to him, it’s really no big deal.

I am still just not prepared for winter. We’ve been slowly collecting some long-sleeved shirts for Kirk thanks to Mr. b picking up cute ones when he finds them on clearance. But I don’t have any warm jammies or long-sleeved onesies or a new hat or gloves. I went to put Kirk’s little hipster suit jacket on him this morning and realized it was far too light-weight for the premature dose of cold we’re having. Thank the Lords of Kobol for Diablo and Jon! They got him a bunch of size 2T clothes for his birthday and apologized for them being too big. But the lined Fall jacket is just what I put on the boy this morning! Sure the sleeves are rolled up and yeah it’s big but hey, he looks like Oasis in the 90s (minus the faux-fur on his hood) and that’s fine by me.

I hate balancing the checkbook. Despise it. I’ve been the money manager for well over 13 years now and I want to quit. I store up receipts for two weeks before I enter them into the register. I rarely even get receipts from Mr. b. I get so frustrated by the mess when I do get around to the accounting that I don’t do it for another two weeks. I just can’t break that cycle. I let us spend too much between paychecks. I don’t follow a budget. I hardly ever put money into savings. I let myself get behind on utilities so that actual creditors get paid on time. The utilities portion caught up to me this month. I let too many rolling lates pile up and now I had to make payment arrangements to avoid disconnection. Disconnection notices! What am I, 23? That’s ridiculous. We are not poor. Sure, we are usually very strapped. But we can eliminate excess. We are just so lazy and undisciplined. Netflix is not "a necessity". I could draft an official weekly meal menu before grocery shopping and only buy sale items. I could demand that Mr. b only use tip money for his smokes and booze. I could refuse to be talked in to going out to eat more than once a week. And yet I don’t do any of it. How is that a good example for the boy? Disconnection! Gah!

Catch up

Kirk had his 15th month check up last week. He's awesome. He flatlined in the weight percentage--due to the walking thing burning calories--but continues to be in the 70%-75% for height. Doc also discovered that what we thought was remnants of a cold and teething was in fact an ear infection. Yeah. I rule. So we're finishing up the drugs he got for that. He has now had a throat infection, a nose infection, pink eye, and an ear infection. I think it's time for a break!

Kirk's discovered that he can crouch down to pick things up and then stand back up without using something to pull up on. However, he has not transferred that skill to standing up in the middle of the floor from a sitting position.

I made curtains for Kirk's room. Naturally his is "that room", the one that is always colder than the rest of the house. Curtains instead of blinds should provide some insulation. We're also going to get a larger area rug for his floor. And Mr. b is going to toss some insulation along the ceiling in the laundry room below since that's the only basement room without a finished ceiling. Hopefully the rest of this project won't take as long as the curtain portion. I've been meaning to make then for well over a year. Last winter Kirk was fine since he was still little enough to put in a sleep sack. Now he just kicks off his blankies. We're back to putting a onesie under his jammies for an extra layer.

Yep, he's a toddler.

Kirk is walking. It's been about 2 weeks now. At first, he was just doing 5 or 6 steps and then realizing he was walking and sitting down promptly. Mr. b and I admitted to ourselves that it was "real" walking and that there was never going to be that storybook moment of a First Step. Does that ever actually happen? Then Kirk would take several steps and very consciously reach for something to grab hold of and not sit down. Then he started turning around during his short perambulations. Then he walked clear across the living room and the kitchen. There's no mistaking it anymore. It's been truly fascinating to watch his exponential improvement. He still can't stand up without pulling himself up on something. I get the feeling that will be a separate development. But once he's up, then it's all over. It's so cute watching the small drunk person stumble about the house!

By any other name...

I quite simply adored Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott! I haven't read Little Women in years, and while I liked it, I never went as crazy over it as other girls (or Rachel on Friends). It was good but I didn't feel any pull to read any of her other stuff. Now, I cannot possibly get my hands on Rose in Bloom fast enough. I have to find out which cousin Rose is going to marry! Because you just know that it's going to be one of them. And oooh, what's Phebe going to do? And will Uncle Doctor Alec bring Rose onboard ship? And will Prince Charlie come out of the closet? (Not bloody likely, heh.) What of the Chief and Mac and the younger boys and wee Jamie? Oh this book was marvelous. It was completely unrealistic, but it was charming and heartwarming and nothing bad was permanent. It was like the Cosby Show! I cried tears of joy and amazement on the frickin bus fer chissakes! As the Doctor would say to his Rose, "Fantastic!"

Instructions

Last night we went out for fancy dinner for our anniversary. Below is the note that Mr. b wrote out for Kirk's babysitters--Godfather and his wife. They said it was precisely what happened.

He'll be fed by 6:30
Let him run around
Watch him Pound his balls
He thinks it's funny to crash his car

At about 7:30 take his clothes off and let him run around in his diaper.
Put on a fresh diaper.

Around 8 you'll notice he gets all crazy and acts like a drunken crackhead, that's how you'll know he's tired.
Put his Jammies on and clear a path to his crib.
Good time for reading
Give him his bottle
He may fall asleep in your arms or he might try to stagger around for a little longer.
Try to get him in his crib between 8:30 & 9.
He may get up in his crib & start crying
Let him, he'll calm down in a couple minutes.

The Ballad of belsum and Mr. b

We met in mid-May, 1993. I was still a week shy of my 18th birthday, though I was finishing my first year of college. We both worked at a burger & shake parlour near campus. I was still living in the dorm, Mr. b was couch surfing and sleeping in his car after just moving back to Minneapolis. We hit it off instantly. The fact that I liked the Beach Boys helped. Our first kiss was upside down; I was leaning backwards on a swing set.

But I was leaving for a month in Mexico in two weeks and didn't want things to be too serious. I drove my travel partner nuts with worry that he found someone else while I was gone. He drove his friends nuts that I found someone else and wasn't coming back. My train was late and I had no way to reach him.

After a couple of months of "just staying with" each other, we moved in together officially. We got a cat. We bought plates and towels and bedding and a car. We got a joint checking account.

Deep Shag had band practice in that first apartment.

We moved a couple more times. There were trials involving drugs and alcohol. Long separations while I was abroad. It was the 90s. Most of our friends could be found at The Hippie House. Brainforest. We adopted another cat. We had fun. We went to shows. Everyone played in bands and cooked like mad.

Mr. b proposed to me outside of Orchestra Hall. I said, "Sure!" He still hassles me for that response.

We got married on the Autumnal Equinox, September 20, 1997. The sumac was in bloom, it was cool, crisp weather, the sky was blue. We were Up North, on my grandmother's land. People camped out. We had bands play, a pinata to break, bonfires, grills, whiskey, kegs, it was a party.

Mr. b had to spend a month living at my parents house while I was in the field. He very quickly found us a new apartment! We loved living on the West Side and stayed there for 7 years. It was Hobbiton and we rode our bikes through the Shire and Bree and Moria and Lothlorien. Lunar 9. Our first cat died. We bought a Jetta. Medication.

We closed on our first house September 17, 2004. It was our 7th anniversary present to ourselves. I found out I was pregnant far sooner than either of us could have ever anticipated. Tron died. Our darling son was born July 2, 2005. Mercurial Rage.

And now we celebrate 9. One year short of a decade of marriage. 13 and a half years of being together. Love, laughs, fights, sex, drugs, rock n roll, fun, sleep, games, growth, life.

Bathroom Tales Vol. II

Kirk continues to love to stand up while taking a bath. It's not constant anymore, thankfully, but he still at least stands during the "cleaning" phase and then sits and plays with toys and shampoo bottles until Mommy gets bored. He also loves to play with the lever in the spout that directs the water to the shower head. He actually pulls it out of its housing every single time. Mr. b finally showed me how to fix it. Previously I had to rely on him to put it back every single time.

The toilet continues to be an extra fun play zone. The plunger and cleaning brush had to be removed from the bathroom altogether. But now Kirk pulls off the protective coverings over the bolts that hold the stool onto the floor. He also enjoys busting in to the bathroom when Mommy is sitting down to play with my hip tattoo.

I am desperate to find some kind of diaper that is either somehow rigged for boys specifically or is extra absorbent for overnights. Most mornings I pull Kirk out of his crib to find that he's totally Leakypedia. The back half of the diaper will still be dry but the front will be beyond soaked; the excess pee drains out the waistband since he sleeps on his stomach more often than not. I swear I remember ads for diapers from several years ago, talking up the front absorbency for boys, middle for girls. Do they still exist? My poor man can't wear a pair of jammies more than once because of the MC Pee Pants action!

Wooster and Jeeves

Mr. b: Kirk treats me like a butler when we're at home. He doesn't want me to play but he wants me to always be close by to attend to his every need.

Apparently Kirk gets mad when Mr. Angelmamma leaves daycare after dropping off their son. That's so cute! Mr. b says it's because Kirk can sense "bass-playing daddy" on him.

Daycare Blues

Kirk had an angry morning at daycare according to K. I'm not surprised. This was only the 6th time he's gone there, even though he's been at new daycare for two weeks. He just had so much Mommy and Daddy time last week from being sick. And Labor Day. And we kept him home one day the first week due to his cold.

It's weird because I can't tell if his new developments are circumstantial or actual new developments. He's been taking only one nap per day. He was previously still on the two-per-day baby schedule. But is that just because he's been able to sleep later in the morning?

He's been actually playing with the cats, too. The Squirrel hides most of the time (she's not doing well with the new arrival) but when Kirk can get at her, he "pets" her and screams in delight when she bats his hand away with her paw. Chloe, the little attention whore, lets him totally molest her. He chases Chloe around the house, wags her tail, "pets" her head, nuzzles her with his head, sits on her feet, lays right next to her. It's adorable! But again, is that just because he's been home more so he's had more time to interact with the other inhabitants?

It'll be interesting to see if anything reverts now that he's back to daycare and the schedule that requires. I feel bad but we can't afford a nanny and we can't afford to have one parent stay at home. He's just going to have to learn to deal with that.

Pink Eye

We had our first trip to the Urgent Care last night. Apparently Kirk has pink eye. Hooray.

I was feeling like a Bad Mommy because Mr. b was concerned about Kirk and I blew it off as a Tylenol situation. I tried to talk to a nurse but the wait on the line was ridiculous and hung up. After a little internet research I determined that Kirk at least had a sinus infection (green snot, eye boogers) and needed to go in. Of course in the waiting room he was fine. Beyond fine. He was walking! Like taking 4 or 5 steps and freestanding for really long periods of time. It was crazy!

When we finally saw a doctor he took one look at Kirk and declared pink eye. Mr. b and I have never had it before so we're obviously a bit freaked out. I mean, I know it's common and not that big of a deal in the long run. But it's messy and gross and I have to put eye drops in the little man's eyes and give him antibiotics and he's just a poor sick little guy. All this on top of the remnants of his cold from last week!

I don't even know how he got it. It's not like any of the kids at his daycare have it. (Yet.) Maybe from the old ladies at great-grandma's apartment building? Who knows. Time for more medicine and a nap.

Desegregation

I kept Kirk at home yesterday. His cold wasn't that severe or anything. I mean, he's certainly been sicker. But I just thought that it wasn't fair to him to deal with feeling like crap at a brand new place. And it wasn't fair to daycare lady K to have to deal with the new kid feeling crappy. At first, despite the constant stream of snot, I thought Kirk had just played us. But then he wouldn't nap. After fighting with him for two hours I figured it out: he wouldn't nap in his bed, only in Mommy's arms. That's a sure sign that he's sick. I told that to K this morning when I dropped him off and she appreciated the decision. Of course he wasn't happy at all to be back at daycare. He misses Auntie.

We finally have our sink-side counter space back! I've been slowly sorting through bottles and sippy cups and calculating what Kirk still uses or doesn't. All but two bottles have been retired completely. He still takes his final milk of the day in a bottle so I needed to have a couple out. Then I rearranged the cupboards to fit all his sippies and built-in-straw cups and other plastic cups on one shelf. And then Mr. b threw away all remaining elements to the bottle washing station. It's pretty amazing. Been a long time. I have no idea what we're going to do with the space now!

I've noticed that Kirk's stuff has been slowly getting integrated with our own stuff for a while now. Just little things, like the baby nail clippers. Well, now they're in the medicine cabinet with the grup nail clippers. Same with his thermometer. Junk like that. All his gear had previously been stricly segregated to his room and changing station. Now there are little coats in the closet and little shoes in the shoe pile. I'll even occasionally find his clothes in our laundry basket or Mr. b's in Kirk's!