Kirk Who?

Having my sister do daycare for the first year of Kirk's life is great for when we need a babysitter; she's always super excited for a chance to spend time with him. And he has a blast spending the night at his Auntie's and playing with his cousins. So we try to use that option on occasions like last night. Mercurial Rage had a fancy cocktail party/photo shoot for their record cover and I wasn't about to miss that! We had a wonderful time and I danced til my feet couldn't dance no more. During the festivities Mr. b got a message saying that my sister didn't want us to pick Kirk up right away in the morning; she wanted more time with him. Aww. Happy to oblige!

But then this morning my sister called with a different plan. My mom was babysitting our nephew and so my sister wanted to take Kirk and her girls up there so all four cousins could play. Sounds reasonable except for a few small details: my sister is notoriously slow, my parents live an hour away, and we wouldn't have a clue when she'd be returning the boy to us. But who are we to begrudge Kirk a chance to play with his cousins and go on an Auntie adventure?

Mr. b and I had a great day. Lazed around, loud sex, driving and shopping without any regard to getting home in time for naps. But by 6:30pm I still hadn't heard from my sister to say that she was on her way back down. At that rate, Kirk wouldn't get home until bedtime. Ridiculous! Sure enough, when I called to investigate, she was doing laundry. And it's those little instances where she completely disregards other people's schedules that remind us why we no longer use her for daycare. I'm confident that Kirk had a wonderful time. But I would have liked to have seen him, oh, at all today.

Mommy & Daddy are Idiots

We fucked up. Mr. b and I fucked up big time.

Kirk started cough-puking again sometime after midnight on Friday. Of course he didn't have anything in his stomach by then so all that came out was phlegm. We brought him in to Urgent Care as soon as it opened Saturday morning. At that point he was at least keeping water down.

The Urgent Care doctor explained that it's extremely common for babies to vomit during intense coughing. Lord knows I've hacked hard enough to nearly trigger my gag reflex. She said this whatever-it-is has been going around and it's viral, so we just have to ride it out. She suggested we put Kirk on the BRAT diet (my new favorite acronym--Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, Toast) and give him Pedialyte and popsicles to keep up his energy. He was obviously quite worn down by then since he hadn't been able to eat since lunch the day before. She said specifically to stay away from all dairy products and anything else that may irritate his stomach.

So he was fine the rest of the day Saturday. Couple of naps, lots of liquid, no relapse. He was fine Sunday, acting like his old self and genuinely hungry again. And that's where we fucked it all up.

We were lazy about dinner. Who wants to cook on a Sunday night? So we opened a couple of cans of beef ravioli. Kirk ate shitloads. Then before bed, I let him have some milk. He had had a small amount before his nap--but his stomach had still been fairly empty. This time? "Valley Forge, barf city!"

It was awful. The poor little guy threw up over and over and over. We changed his jammies three times before his stomach was emptied. By the end we were so inured to the gross that we were just catching little half-digested bits of ravioli in our bare hands. He finally was able to fall asleep about 10:00pm and had some Pedialyte a couple of times in the middle of the night.

I felt so bad. We both felt so bad. We totally jumped the gun and Kirk was the one that had to pay. I don't know how long we're supposed to keep him on BRAT, but clearly it wasn't long enough.

Since he doesn't have a fever and really isn't acting sick--apart from the puking--we sent him to daycare today. Apparently 4 out of the 6 kids there had vomit sessions over the weekend. All attributed to a different reason. So it was applesauce all around for the little ones today. And we'll just take it easy for the rest of the week. Lord know I'm sick and tired of doing sick-covered laundry.

Cough & Puke

Kirk's been puking today. It's really weird and I'm kind of concerned because I just don't know what's wrong. He's not feverish. He doesn't have a cold beyond the January sniffles that everyone has right now. But three times now he's coughed really hard and then thrown up. He did it last night while asleep; Mr. b discovered the mess at 4:30am when Kirk woke up and called for us. He was fine today though, until I was making dinner. Coughing fit, then puke, all over the kitchen floor. The nurse line advised us to not feed him, not give him milk, and only give him clear liquids like juice or water. But then shortly before bedtime the same thing happened and he threw up all the juice he'd drank! I'm paranoid about him now. He's sleeping peacefully but of course he's no longer propped up on his pillows. I'm afraid if I try to move him he'll wake up. I don't think we need to go to the emergency room when Mr. b gets home from closing the café tonight or anything. But I do think we should go to the urgent care in the morning. I just don't want it to be something in his lungs or something weird and old fashioned like the croup.

Blooming Dogs

Rose in Bloom Louisa May Alcott
Crack. This book was crack. I wish there were more Rose books because I would totally read more. It almost makes me want to read other Alcott stuff—and I was never really that into Little Women! I’m glad that Louisa May has a sibling death fixation; Rose totally would’ve gone for the bad boy Prince Charlie instead of Mac who she was obviously meant for.


The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time Mark Haddon
Another ridiculously fast read. The narrator of the book is a 15 year old autistic boy; he is investigating the murder of his neighbor’s dog. It was amazing. I loved the way his world-view was described and the way he over-explained things like using prime numbers for the chapters. It was a compelling story, too! And one of the best, most satisfying, last lines I’ve read in a long time.


Since I read Jane Eyre I have encountered references to it twice. Mr. Rochester is apparently a Romantic archetype; he was mentioned in both the Chet Arthur Conspiracy and in Rose in Bloom.

Splish, Splash, I Refuse to Take a Bath

Kirk’s going through a weird phase. Everything is just so freakin’ hard. Bath-time is currently the worst. It’s like he’s scared of the water or something! He still continues to prefer standing (though he doesn’t like showers so that option is out) in the tub. But instead of banging on the wall and playing with his duckies and the shampoo bottles, he leans over the edge of the tub and wails. It’s virtually impossible to even dump a cup of water over his head to wet him down pre-shampoo. Forget about rinsing! He will not be forced into sitting. And if you physically restrain him on the other side of the tub so you can rinse him without pouring water all over the floor, it’s like you’re torturing him or something. I have no idea what his deal is. He’s mildly better if one of us is in the tub with him so we’ve started trading off taking baths. He’ll sit in my lap and let me rinse him but he won’t sit on the tub floor. Last night he bathed with his Daddy and wouldn’t even sit in his lap. Yet at the end of the bath, if you can distract him into finally playing with toys or at least the rinse-cup, he’ll eventually sit. Especially if the water is draining. I just don’t get it. For a while he was trying to actually swim in the tub; after being soaped and rinsed he’d get down on his belly and scoot backwards and forwards in the water. I have no clue why he’s reverted so far from that behavior.

The Year in (Book) Review

The Chester A. Arthur Conspiracy was very hard for me to get into. I was quite excited by the prospect of an alternate history surrounding Chet’s administration. Along with Polk, he’s Mr. b’s favorite president so I thought it would be fun to constantly check in and see where the subtle changes were happening. But it wasn’t really like that. SPOILER ALERT In fact, there were no changes to “known” history. John Wilkes Booth was secretly not dead and cuckolded Arthur. Nell still died, though it was a fake death to run off with her lover. When telling this to Chester, he died of a heart attack and Wilkes assumed his identity. He presided over the caucus that nominated Garfield, became the Vice President, assumed the presidency after Garfield’s assassination, and then died, though that was also a fake death. So it was just a very strange premise. I didn’t really start to enjoy it even a little bit until after Chet was dead. And by the end, I felt so little sympathy for Wilkes that I was rooting for his aide to get his revenge. It was thoroughly researched and very accurate, but also written in a stilted “period” present tense that was difficult to penetrate.

I read 19 books in 2006. Certainly not as good as my best year since I began keeping track (47 in 2004) but better than I thought. I started out the year barely keeping up with the one-book-a-month book club requirements. After switching daycare I was able to take the bus again and so that improved my average quite nicely. I hope to be able to read two books a month, though I’m not going to pressure myself. I do think I’m going to declare an official New Year’s Resolution to read more comic books. I miss them. I need to take the time to just read an issue of something every weekend.

I think my favorite books of the year were Eight Cousins and War for the Oaks. Though there were none that I outright despised. I’d recommend most of them and will possibly even reread a couple of them at some future time.

1. The Lady and the Unicorn Tracy Chevalier
2. Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper Diablo Cody
3. My Year of Meats Ruth Ozeki
4. The Bell Jar Sylvia Plath
5. The Cabinet of Curiosities Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child
6. Serenity: Those Left Behind Joss Whedon
7. The Peshawar Lancers S.M. Stirling
8. White Fang Jack London
9. A Cook’s Tour: Global Adventures in Extreme Cuisine Anthony Bourdain
10. Bee Season Myla Goldberg
11. Eldest Christopher Paolini
12. Frankenstein Mary Shelley
13. Eight Cousins or the Aunt-Hill Louisa May Alcott
14. War for the Oaks Emma Bull
15. ReVISIONS Edited by Julie E. Czerneda & Isaac Szpindel
16. Mercy Jody Picoult
17. The Wizard, the Witch, & Two Girls from Jersey Lisa Papademetriou
18. The Secret Agent Joseph Conrad
19. Jane Eyre Charlotte Brontë
20. The Chester A. Arthur Conspiracy William Wiegand

So Tired

I am starting to dread sleeping on my left side. Increasingly it means that Kirk is in bed with us. He freaks out if he is not resting his head on my arm, which then cuts off the circulation and severely limits my range of possible comfortable positions. Occasionally I can lift him over to my right side for a brief time, or he may allow complete cuddling with his daddy so I can turn over.

The sleep weirdness is at a breaking point for me. Last night, after 2 hours of the Kirkus Circus starting around 1am, I couldn’t take anymore and banished him back to his crib to cry. Mr. b managed to get him to fall asleep by holding him in the recliner but it was brutal. During the week or so we were gone over the Yuletide, Kirk was not in bed with me only 2 of those nights. And one of those he was in his Gramma’s bed. He traveled fantastically; rode really well and wasn’t too overwhelmed by the extended family (including my parents, his Godmother/Great Auntie’s in-laws, and assorted friends) gathered for the week in Texas. But he hasn’t returned to his normal routine since we’ve been back. I have to hope that daycare will help that transition.

On top of that, Kirk’s just been extra naughty. I honestly think he’s entering The Terrible Twos, despite this being only his 18 month birthday today. He’s so willful, saying “No, no, no, no” when something doesn’t go his way, hitting Mommy and the kitty and the windows, climbing up any chairs he’s tall enough to get into on his own, destroying his crib and pulling on his window shades when he doesn’t want to go to bed. He fought with his 3 year old cousin quite a lot while in Texas; I’m sure that was largely due to my nephew never previously having to really share his boy toys, his big sister is too girly to be interested, and certainly not having to share his Grandparents’ attention with another boy. During all the evenings that Gramma watched Kirk, she got him fully transitioned off the nigh-nigh bottle—that being the last hold out that Mr. b and I were just too lazy to switch over to a sippy cup. That’s fabulous! But he also learned how to open doors. Now we need to make sure everything’s locked so he doesn’t escape.

Kirk’s got his 18 month check up on Thursday so I’ll be able to run all this by Doc. He’s working on another molar so I’m sure that isn’t helping matters. I worry about his vocabulary sometimes, because he doesn’t pronounce words fully. But he uses the beginnings of words in their correct context, so it’s pretty easy for me to know what he means, even though “Mama” can be either Mommy or Daddy. Or “parents”. “Muh” can be more or mine, “bah” can be bottle or boat or butt or box or bath depending on how he uses it. That kind of thing. Of course, “Mama, wha’s that” needs no extra explanation. I just have to figure out what he wants me to name or look at.

In the meantime, I just need to figure out how to get some sleep.

You Spin Me Right Round Baby

Kirk loves bling. He'll carry around Mr. b's Halloween Barry Gibb chain and put it on and take it off. And put it on and take it off. Even better is a string of blue Mardi Gras style beads, probably from Pride. They're just a bit longer so easier to pull over his head on his own.

He's also gotten really into dancing. He's always been a very aurally aware baby. Now he's totally into "real" music, and not his little kid stuff. He'll hold his daddy's phone and jam out to whatever songs he manages to put on (oddly enough, it's usually Merc Rage's "Devil Girl"). If we're hanging out downstairs then Kirk wants a record on the turntable. We've been listening to a lot of 70s stuff, from Pink Floyd to Andy Gibb. Kirk's got some hilarious moves including turning around with one hand in the air and lifting his right leg and pointing it repeatedly. Awesome.

We think we need to get him some kind of mp3 player for Christmas but it's just ridiculous to even consider buying him an iPod or an iTunes phone. Not gonna happen! But so far I haven't discovered anything that exists that is handheld and doesn't come preloaded with nursery rhymes. We have one of those kitschy jukebox style mini plastic radios that I think will have to do for now. At least then he can have fun spinning the dial through the stations--until he breaks off the antenna. I wonder where I put it?

Keep Out

I’ve finally figured out why parents pretty much universally keep their bedroom's door shut at all times. And it’s not for the reasons I would have assumed. It’s not because of sex. It’s not because of...the Poltergeist parents’ activities. It’s to keep your stuff safe. As the rest of the house slowly becomes child-proofed, our bedroom becomes a repository for all the things that Kirk shouldn’t get into, like jewelry and guitar picks and library books and power supplies. Kirk has long enjoyed playing at the Mommy Fun Zone—the clock radio and cordless phone on my bedside table. But he recently discovered that my bedside table has a drawer. That he can open. And now my security key to remotely work from home is missing. Hooray.

Neverending Story

Kirk never doesn’t want us to read him a story. He is constantly handing us books to read to him. We are going out of our heads! We took him to Baby Storytime at the library twice and that definitely coincides with the start of his book obsession. Coincidence or cause? Who knows.

He won’t sit still long enough for full-length Dr. Seuss books yet. But we know the abridged board book versions by heart! Mr. b actually had to hide the Curious George board books because Kirk digs ‘em the most and we just couldn’t bear to look at them again. At least for a while. We decided that for Christmas, since lord knows he doesn’t need any more toys, we’re just going to get him books. So that we can have something new to look at. At least for a while.

Thankfully, it hasn’t turned me off my own reading for pleasure. I wish I had more time for it. I finished Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. I enjoyed it, but it definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. I figured that it would be a Regency comedy of manners in the Austen style. It was a bit darker than that! Jane, for all her modern, independent woman trappings, really was emotionally damaged. Of course that’s largely due to her anti-Eight Cousins style orphanhood! Once she moved to Thornfield and encountered Mr. Rochester, it felt a bit like Rebecca, especially with the Mrs. Poole mystery. (I wonder if Daphne du Maurier was a fan?) Regardless, I was very pleased by the eventual happy ending. But boy did Jane have to go down a long road to finally get there!

Talkies

I've finally made the switch to keeping the baby monitor off at night. It's weird; I'm very used to the sound of it as background noise. And it definitely takes longer for me to hear Kirk when he wakes up. But eventually my brain realizes that "Mama! Mih!" isn't part of a dream and I get up.

It took me a while to notice that "mih" is milk. Kirk's gotten quite good at the few signs we've really worked on and can clearly differentiate between ones like milk and drink and eat. So I just didn't pay attention to the sounds that went with the signs. Plus, for quite a while all his words were either H or B words. Hat. Head. Hi! Hot. Ball. Bye. Book. That kind of thing.

Even though they are actual words, used in the correct context, he's not always pronouncing all of them fully. I really understand the Mom Ear that is an integral component of Baby Talk. If I don't translate his syllables, people think he's just babbling, riffing on a consonant sound. He's not up to multiple syllables yet either. But it's really fun watching his language skills develop. It seems like he's got a new word almost everyday. And the ones that he's already got down are obtaining multiple meanings. Like "hot", which started out to mean cooking and now means food and the kitchen and fire and the oven. (Kirk loves the oven. I turn the light on when I'm baking and he stands peering in, mezmerized.)

Mostly though, it's just really effin' adorable watching Kirk say hi to random people, like at the grocery store.

Lighten Up

Dammit. My sister has me all paranoid about keeping a light on in Kirk's room. Since he was born I've kept a small lamp on the lowest setting on in his room at night. He pulls nightlights out of the socket and I need to be able to see when I go in there at night. She peeked in there on Friday night and was amazed at how bright it was. I didn't think it was that bright! Then she went on about how she's read that keeping a light on in your kid's room hurts their eye development (I don't buy that at all) and can instigate fear of the dark (this I can buy). So now I'm wondering if Kirk's going to get all phobic about the dark just because I personally like to have a light on. And I've always slept with a nightlight. I like to be able to see at least a little bit if I wake up. I don't need much; the light from the clock or an LED or something else small is plenty after my eyes have adjusted. So now I'm freaking myself out for probably no reason but mostly I'm just pissed that I let her get to me like this. You'd think I was the younger sister and not the oldest.

Information Overload

I’m convinced that Kirk has insomnia. It’s ridiculous! If he wakes up in the middle of the night it’s getting harder and harder to get him back to sleep. We offer him milk or juice or cuddles and rocking and he just stares blankly at the ceiling, screaming when he’s put back in his bed. I can listen to him cry himself to sleep at the beginning of the night when I’m watching TV or cleaning. But at 3 in the morning when I’m trying to fall back to sleep after having spent a half hour ministering to his needs? I cave. He gets brought into our bed. But I hate just bringing him in without at least trying. I don’t want him to think he can sleep with Mommy and Daddy whenever he wants simply by being a pain.

I finally got my hair cut off. I’ve been bitching about it for weeks. I was so over that hair. I used to change my hair all the time. Well, not with Diablo-frequency (who is currently sporting a fantastic fuchsia color!) but still a lot for the average person!! I love it. It’s kind of Edie Sedgwick, but messier and asymmetrical and more modern. I feel like I should always wear eyeliner and dress mod! Kirk still looks at me out of the corner of my eye. He wasn’t scared or anything, but definitely wary of the change.

Kirk broke a spoon. I stupidly gave him a plastic slotted spoon yesterday and he banged it against his tray so hard it shattered. A piece landed on my head and I shrieked, thinking it was a bug. I really need to get him a new wooden spoon.

It’s weird trading nights out. I feel like I’ve been going to so many shows. It’s like the old days! But really, it’s just because we had a sitter last weekend for Mr. b’s gig and then I went out this Saturday with Diablo after Mr. b had been out on Friday. (Attention Minneapolis: Go see First Communion After Party. They are 60's California psychedelic and amazing.) It’s taking some getting used to. After so many years of going to shows with my husband, it’s a bit odd to not have him there. It’s not like we even hang out while at the bar or club or party. But we arrive together and leave together and it’s weird not seeing him across the room. However, I’m glad to be getting the chance to get out of the house. It’s definitely important to see more people than just my family and co-workers. I've been planning girl's dinner with Auntie G every couple of months, too. Don't want to fall into any martyr-mother traps if I can help it.

Kirk loves hiding. He ducks around the corner of the counter or the couch or the hall and peeks out and squeals in delight when you "find" him. It is frakkin’ adorable.

Book Round-Up

ReVISIONS Edited by Julie E. Czerneda & Isaac Szpindel
I love alternative histories and I love short stories so this collection was simply ideal for me. It was so much fun starting a story and trying to guess what the change was before it became obvious. And the changes ran the gamut from modern (like the internet) to ancient (like the domestication of the dog). It was very satisfying. I was inspired to come up with my own alt. What if Polk had never been President, there had been no Mexican war, there had been no annexation of California, the movie industry had never moved from the East to Hollywood? I considered signing up for NaNoWriMo for 0.68 seconds, which, of course, is an eternity for an android. But I realized that I barely have time to read, much less write.

Mercy Jody Picoult
I had no idea what this book was about; I hadn’t even read the dust jacket. It was fascinating finding out what I was in for. "Hey, these guys are seriously Scottish!" It was such a thought-provoking read. I was compelled to review my own relationship constantly throughout the course of the action. The idea of such varieties of love was really amazing. I kept picturing Elia from Top Chef as Mia for some reason.

The Wizard, the Witch, & Two Girls from Jersey Lisa Papademetriou
My aunt picked this out for me and said, "It’s every fantasy book ever written." She wasn’t kidding! But it was lovingly satirical, not just derivative, so it was a fun game of spot-the-reference. She even named several books outright! I was proud of myself that I’ve read all but two of those.

The Secret Agent Joseph Conrad
I love Conrad and am regularly amazed by his command of the English language. He’s so vivid and intuitive. His character internal-workings are revelatory. I remembered almost nothing about this book, other than the fact that I loved it. It’s definitely different than his other books—the setting, there’s no story-within-a-story book-ending, there are more characters. This tale could be allegorical to our modern times if it wasn’t written a century ago.

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.