Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The Ick, and Tales of E

The picture at the top of this blog is so old and summery. It's time for an update. After the holidays sometime. Maybe I'll move to Wordpress. I've wanted to for a while, but just haven't taken the time. (Same goes for email, incidentally. I have a gmail account and I swear I'm going to start using it as my primary account one of these years.)

Anyway. So. I'm still sick. Day six. I guess I haven't mentioned on here that TJ came down with the cold last Friday and was in bed until Sunday. My throat continued to hurt like a bitch all day Saturday, and then I started to feel a lot worse that night when E and I were at a holiday gathering at Catherine and Shannon's house. Sunday TJ and I both felt rotten. I've continued to deteriorate since then (I now sound like a swamp monster), and TJ's gotten better (thank god). In the meantime, the cold seems to have bypassed E (knock on wood). His nose is runny and he's temperamental and fussy, but it seems to be related to teething (molar #2 is just about through). His night sleep hasn't been interrupted, and I know it would be if his throat were hurting.

E has never spent so much time at home (no playground yesterday, no co-op today, no anything on Sunday), and he's done great, all things considered. He's sporting two fat lips currently, however. Top and bottom, opposite sides. Bloody pajama tops accompanied both incidents. Luckily we had popsicles on hand specifically for this purpose--something we learned from the accident that sent us to the ER a couple of months ago. The first fall related to the coffee table and the second was just one of those where he's walking along and then suddenly face plants. It's always so sad, and yet he recovers remarkably quickly.

Being sick has affected everything, and I find it endlessly frustrating. The past three weekends have ended up being shot (illness only responsible for this past one), and that has greatly compromised our state of readiness for the holidays. I had so much to do this week, and it's not getting done. Period. I was stressed out enough about our trip (we leave Monday) without feeling hopelessly behind. I'm working on letting things go and just doing what I can and not feeling like a big loser, but this does not come naturally to me.

I left the house with E this morning for the first time since Saturday, determined to get some groceries for at least the next couple of days. We've been doing takeout. I got the next closest thing--rotisserie chicken for tonight and a frozen pizza for tomorrow. This caused me to reflect on our diet. We used to eat a frozen pizza once every week or two, but we haven't had one in about six months--ever since we changed our diet. But in the past couple of months, we've gotten lazy and started eating pasta and bread again, not being careful with what we order in restaurants, and I've gained the four or five pounds back that I'd lost this summer (seemingly all in my belly). It's actually kinda cool in a way to see such a direct connection. Hopefully we can get back on track after the holidays.

E, in the meantime, is a heartstopping delight. A challenge at times, but always a delight. There's no other word for it. He's walking very well--very fast!--and bending his knees more when he walks. He's very into putting lids onto their respective objects, or otherwise taking two halves of something and making it whole. Catherine's little brother passed down his Mega Blocks cars to E, and E loves them. He brings them to us to have us take them apart, and then he tries to put them back together. He's also still into balls and stacking blocks. He recently figured out how to turn a light switch on and off, and we often stand at the bank of switches at the bottom of the stairs. He flicks them up and down and twists with surprise every time a light comes on or goes off. He also loves books, and brings them to us to read to him over and over. He especially loves the DK board books about colors, opposites, and times of day. We read My First Colors Board Book many, many times each day, and I point to the pictures of objects that are familiar to him--bananas, rubber ducks, grapes, dog, cat. And songs; we sing songs every day.

He has a fiery, fiery temperament, and screeches at the drop of a hat from frustration or anger. He's single-minded about his desires. He adores Squeaky with all his heart, and is often good about giving her gentle pets, though their interactions require close supervision. At the end of the day, around 4:00 or 5:00, he wants me to hold him while I go about preparing dinner or changing out the laundry. I oblige until my left arm protests emphatically, probably somewhere around the half hour mark. At times I'll put him in the Ergo, but he's not as content there.

I love the feeling of his small, solid body in my arms.

He's understanding more and more of what we say, and he's starting to imitate sounds a bit more. If I tell him we're going to the park, he'll say, "pa." He also seems to be saying "book," though it's hard to distinguish from "ball." Just tonight (I started this earlier but am finishing it in the evening), I was holding him and stirring a pot on the stove and he reached for it and I said, "Hot, hot!" He responded by pursing his lips and blowing out in short bursts, like I do when I blow on his food. We got the biggest kick out of this, seeing as how we had no idea he connected the two.

One last little E story, boring to everyone except my future self and perhaps E's future self or his children: Sometimes when we're downstairs, I'll be at the kitchen sink washing dishes, and I'll realize it's gotten quiet. I'll start walking through the living room, calling E's name, even though I'm pretty sure where he is. Sure enough, I always find him standing inside the darkened bathroom with a huge grin on his face, practically wringing his hands in anticipation, waiting to be caught. He never puts his hands in the toilet anymore--he knows he's not supposed to, so instead he just stands by the toilet and waits.

And there you have a spontaneous summary of fourteen-month-old E, who has just woken from his nap.

Be gone, snot! (That sounds much cheerier than I feel.)

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