Six Silly Things About Me

Since I've been tagged by Jen at 2 Cats 8 Paws, here are six silly things about me:

1) When I am concentrating intensely on something, say when I'm drawing or reading something very interesting, I unconsciously stick the tip of my tongue out of my mouth. I typically don't realize when I'm doing it though A is quick to point it out and tease me about it.

2) Continuing with the oral fixation, I can do this really weird tongue thing (so hard to describe that I had to take a picture so you can get the true benefit of it) as well as roll my tongue sideways and practically upside down to both sides. This makes for fun adult, ahem, hijinks. The only other person that I know who can do this same tongue trick is my father. I've yet to come across anyone else who can do it. The trick seems to run in the family and it remains to be seen if it passes on to J.

3) I typically don't drink alcohol. I did so much drinking in my early college years, that I just burned out on it. Nowadays, I may have the rare beer but that's about it. And sometimes now when I even smell liquor, I upchuck into my mouth a little (nice, huh?). I'm now affectionately called 'buzz kill' by my circle of friends, but in a lovingly joking way--or so I think :-) On a sidenote, the last time I had a drink was in Key West in July 2004, when an embryonic parasite was burrowing it's way into my uterine lining. What can I say? I was positive the IUI didn't work and I thought, 'ah, why not?' and proceeded to get tanked (courtesy of two Fat Tu3esday frozen concoctions--them folks sure know how to make an adult libation!). I am so looking forward to drinking some more of them this July...sweet mercy, it can't get here soon enough.

4) I hate to touch paper. I know that sounds strange since I was an English major in college and then worked in publishing for almost 10 years (before ditching my career track in December) but during that time, I came to hate touching paper. My hands feel so dirty after handling papers that I practically sprint to the sink to wash them off when I'm through. I cannot.clean.them.off.fast.enough.

5) I adore my feet. Seriously, my zodiac sign rules over the feet (from what I've read) and I do everything I can to pamper them. I get pedicures every 4 weeks, slather them with cream at night (vas3line or burt's b33s coconut foot cream), wear sandals as often as possible, get foot massages, etc. Nothing is too good for my feet. Plus, they look damn cute--nice toenails, toes just the right length, uniform progression of size (i.e., no second toe longer than the big toe action--and no offense meant to those of you with this arrangement--A is one of you!). Bonus points to anyone who can guess what my zodiac sign is :-)

6) I have a thing for MTV's The R3al World and the RW/RR challenge shows. I can lose a whole day on the weekends when they rebroadcast all of the episodes back to back--even if I've already seen all or most of them. I don't watch them when they normally air (10 p.m. or so, I think) but I catch up when they rerun them--and they sure do like to rerun them, don't they? Oy, the drama (or the grandiose notions of drama)...and I love it!

So that's about as silly as I get...more strange than silly but that's me. And now, if you're up for it ladies, I tag Sherry at Horkin Ramblings, Frances at Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner, Toffee at After the IVF, and Three Bees.

Where does the time go?

Today, she is 10 months old. Ten months I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams. Some days, I wonder what I did to get so lucky...and then I remember that there was so much more to it--including love, luck, hope, and a good doctor. It was a long hard road, and one I'd walk again in an instant.

Here she is in a moment in time caught on Easter. I still find it hard to believe that she originally weighed 5 lbs., 13 oz. So tiny once, so precious still.

As for what's going on with me, I'm down almost 20 lbs. since cutting sugar and most carbs back out of my eating about 5 weeks ago. Tells you how much my body needed them gone! Only 15 or so more lbs. to go to my primary goal...anything after that will be gravy (mmm, gravy, miss you old friend).

As for the girl--she's growing hair!--though you can't tell in this picture as it's mostly on the top of her head. Alas, still no teeth but that's okay. It's all good in the orifice--turns out she's a heck of a gummer; just ask the hapless fruit and veggie puffs she stuffs into her piehole following each mealtime! Luckily too, she's an adventurous eater. She must get that from her papi...that and her brute strength. Little package, big fighter.

Good Friday and good riddance

Sweet bliss...tonight will mark the final dose of J's 10-day course of Augmentin. And hopefully, it will also mark the end of the horrific diarrhea and diaper rash that is accompanying this antibiotic run. Ah, but at least the vomiting ended Tuesday night--after 3 days of upchucking good times (including a particularly enjoyable inaugural episode during lunch at the Ch&&secake Factory last weekend).

The girl, despite her weeping chafed red bum, is v close to walking unaided. There's an awful lot of standing up unassisted for several seconds at a time in these parts, not to mention all of the walk-behind fun she's having with her rolling push-walker.

Last year, when I was far along in the throes of pregnancy, we attended a friend's party and another couple in attendance were in the backyard, the father holding his year-old daughter's hands while helping her toddle around the yard as she learned to walk. It was so beautiful to see that it brought tears to my eyes...I couldn't wait to see A doing that same thing with our girl one day. And it looks like soon we will have that precious moment in time. I hope I can get a picture when it happens, and if not, the picture in my mind will last forever, as so many of them do. Images burned into memory of days I never dreamed I'd have.

105.2

Here's a hint--that's not a beta # you're looking at up there. It's how high J's temperature got on Wednesday, a mere 4 hours after being seen at the doctor who diagnosed her with an ear infection and some crackling in her lungs. And when I inquired what the crackling meant specifically (bronchitis? upper respiratory infection? pneumonia?), I was told, "Oh, it'll clear up with these antibiotics for her ear." End of discussion on that topic. Considering it seemed like an innocuous ear infection, I took her to daycare after the appointment.

Fast forward 4 hours when the daycare calls me to say she's at 104.2 under the armpit, which is inaccurate to the tune of a degree, so she's really 105.2. They've stripped her down and have her in a tub of cold water. I race there, fighting panic the whole 7-minute drive, calling the doctor's office on the way to find out what I need to do to help my child, only to be told they'll check with the doctor and call me back--and with infant m0trin in hand so I can dose her as soon as I get there.

I arrive, leaving my car directly in front of the walkway and the 'no parking' sign and rush to the infant room where I find...wait for it...my girl standing in the tub, laughing hysterically at a teacher tossing the ball around in the air for her (something A does with her every night that she loves loves loves and laughs laughs laughs at) while another teacher is running cold water down her back with the washcloth.

This kid, she is something. Despite a temperature that could have sent her into febrile seizures, despite being so congested she cannot breathe out of her nose at all, and despite the fact that drinking a bottle takes forever as she constantly has to stop and open her mouth in order to breathe, she has remained her cheerful, laughing, happy self. Mind you, if it was me who was dragging ass with a 105.2 temperature or thereabouts and unable to breathe, I'd be one miserable bitch--well, more miserable than usual, that is. But not her; she soldiers on happily, almost as if she's as grateful for this life as I am for hers.

This morning, the fever broke (thankfully, never going as high as that terrifying incident but instead fluctuating between normal and 101 to 102). The congestion remains as do her high spirits. These babies, they really are amazingly resilient--for the most part, aren't they? Amazing stuff.

Oh, and as for the reply from the doctor's office about twenty minutes after I called about that crazyhigh fever? "Oh, it's okay, the doctor says it's not unexpected for it to spike so high given that she has an upper respiratory infection." Well, that's nice, there's a little tidbit he didn't deign to tell me when we were there. She simply was "a little crackly" in her breathing. Had he said URI and that she may be prone to high fever as a result, well maybe my complete and absolute terror wouldn't have been so acute...or maybe not. That number, jebus, scary shit.