Monday, November 26, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
Dr. Brown, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the ER
Often family pictures can be stressful, and coupled with those flashing lights, it may leave some with headaches. What it left Brandon with was a migraine. Formerly, in another life, before I met Brandon, he suffered from migraines, mostly in high school. However, with my wonderful presence bestowing goodness at every turn, we thought that Brandon was free of them. He was, until a few Fridays ago.
So we prepared to spend the rest of the day sitting out the migraine, and resting from the after-effects. However, when Brandon couldn't remember Kathleen's name, couldn't see out of his right eye, and told me he was having problems "abling," we decided to head to the hospital.
Thankfully the ER was not very busy, and after and hour or so, Brandon was able to get a potent cocktail of drugs that made it difficult to do anything, much less remember anyone's names. Kathleen was very patient, helped by many, many walks around the ER hallways where she smiled and flirted with anyone who would give her a second glance. After three hours and a CT scan, we headed home to put both Brandon and Kathleen to bed. I think he might have gotten ever more sleep than Kathleen, something that has never happened before, and isn't likely to happen again.
So we prepared to spend the rest of the day sitting out the migraine, and resting from the after-effects. However, when Brandon couldn't remember Kathleen's name, couldn't see out of his right eye, and told me he was having problems "abling," we decided to head to the hospital.
Thankfully the ER was not very busy, and after and hour or so, Brandon was able to get a potent cocktail of drugs that made it difficult to do anything, much less remember anyone's names. Kathleen was very patient, helped by many, many walks around the ER hallways where she smiled and flirted with anyone who would give her a second glance. After three hours and a CT scan, we headed home to put both Brandon and Kathleen to bed. I think he might have gotten ever more sleep than Kathleen, something that has never happened before, and isn't likely to happen again.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
How do they get children to smile?
Last Friday, Brandon and I completed another milestone: first family picture. Having had no official photographic record of Kathleen as of yet, and desiring to have one with only three of us (without #4 making its presence know yet visibly), we went to the photographer. We all arose bright and early Friday morning, washed, dressed in our best, combed our hair, and prepared for photographic immortality. I had visions of endless portrait studio ads with sweetly smiling angels, displaying to the world their cheerful temper and cherubic smiles.
Kathleen will never be featured in any of those ads. In fact, I wouldn't even count on her being a model as an adult. Kathleen loves the camera, smiling and cooing whenever we bring it out. One would think that the camera is her next-best friend (after the toilet and perhaps the telephone). Evidently that love doesn't extend to cameras that want to take her picture for hanging on the wall, not just computer screen savers.
After suffering through half an hour of trying to get Kathleen to smile instead of cry inconsolably while sitting on Brandon's and my lap, the photographer then had the Herculean task of stemming the even-louder sobs while again trying to catch a smile that might be hidden behind the runny nose and tears. Brave soul. Eventually cheerios saved as much of the day as possible, and we have hopes for at least one picture that will make it past the digital trash can. If not, there's always digital manipulation, right?
Next time: what happened after the photo session.
Kathleen will never be featured in any of those ads. In fact, I wouldn't even count on her being a model as an adult. Kathleen loves the camera, smiling and cooing whenever we bring it out. One would think that the camera is her next-best friend (after the toilet and perhaps the telephone). Evidently that love doesn't extend to cameras that want to take her picture for hanging on the wall, not just computer screen savers.
After suffering through half an hour of trying to get Kathleen to smile instead of cry inconsolably while sitting on Brandon's and my lap, the photographer then had the Herculean task of stemming the even-louder sobs while again trying to catch a smile that might be hidden behind the runny nose and tears. Brave soul. Eventually cheerios saved as much of the day as possible, and we have hopes for at least one picture that will make it past the digital trash can. If not, there's always digital manipulation, right?
Next time: what happened after the photo session.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The Love Affair Progresses
Until yesterday, Kathleen kept her passion for the toilet restrained and chaste, only banging on the lid, and occasionally lifting it for a more... intimate... view of her beloved. However, as small children enjoy showing off for strangers, Kathleen decided that Aunt Ginger's visit would be a perfect time to unveil a new skill, a new level of her relationship - taking the plunge one might call it. As Brandon, Ginger, and I were cheerfully discussing Thanksgiving plans, I heard a gentle splash splash. Afraid someone had inadvertently left the lid open, I raced to the bathroom to discover Kathleen's newest skill - lifting the toilet lid while simultaneously splashing in the water. She smiled, and I spanked her. A few minutes later, and a repeat, followed by a third time, with punishment each time. Hopefully third time's the charm, but I'm not holding my breath.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Kathleen's Toilet Envy
First children live a strange existence, babies living in an exclusively adult world without any reference to other babies to take their cues from; instead their only reference for what is normal is their parents. So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when all Kathleen wants to do is pull books from the shelf and read them, not knowing what all children know - scriptures are boring - it's the books with pictures one should really like. And when she pulls out a book of Arabic sayings or Russian folk tales, well that's what dad does, too. There's no one to tell her that you're only supposed to look at one kind of funny squiggle.
So again, I shouldn't be surprised when Kathleen gets upset about my trips to the bathroom; after all, she has no mental connection between wearing diapers and not using the toilet. If mom and dad go in the room and shut the door, then she should too. Mom and Dad, however, disagree and enjoy the privacy of alone time in the bathroom.
So, Kathleen is stuck outside, furiously curious about, what goes on behind closed doors. And as Kathleen has never been accused of being a quiet child, she lets her displeasure be known by banging on the door and wailing loudly, begging to be let in. But lest any of you worry that she is distressed by separation from her dear parents and not separation from the dear toilet, don't worry. As soon as I open the door, she runs in, arms open, straight to her great love - the toilet, never giving me a backward glance.
So again, I shouldn't be surprised when Kathleen gets upset about my trips to the bathroom; after all, she has no mental connection between wearing diapers and not using the toilet. If mom and dad go in the room and shut the door, then she should too. Mom and Dad, however, disagree and enjoy the privacy of alone time in the bathroom.
So, Kathleen is stuck outside, furiously curious about, what goes on behind closed doors. And as Kathleen has never been accused of being a quiet child, she lets her displeasure be known by banging on the door and wailing loudly, begging to be let in. But lest any of you worry that she is distressed by separation from her dear parents and not separation from the dear toilet, don't worry. As soon as I open the door, she runs in, arms open, straight to her great love - the toilet, never giving me a backward glance.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
A Note of Explanation
There are times in everyone's lives when some things, like blogs, get left by the wayside for a time. Big changes are often the most likely culprit, whether it be moving (we're not) getting a new job (not yet), receiving a new, intense calling (still no callings yet), sickness (we're all healthy as horses, save Kathleen's new bout of teething), divorce (not likely), death (see sickness above), and perhaps one of the most disruptive events with eternal repercussions, pregnancy.
Some of you might have suspected, as my posts have dropped off dramatically in the last two months, and I am now confirming those suspicions. We have tried to tell Kathleen, too, but as her ability for non-literal thought is limited, she hasn't really understood yet. However, she will around May 14, when her life drastically changes and she is no longer the sun around which Brandon and I orbit. Which is a good thing; everyone needs to realize at some point in their life that while intrinsically full of worth, they don't deserve to have to world rotate around them - nobody here does.
Friends have asked if this pregnancy is better or worse than the last one, but I honestly have to admit that the memories of the last one are quite fuzzy. I now understand what my mother said about selective memory having something to do with more than one child. Brandon asserts that men's memories are better than that, and if the childbearing were left up to them, everyone would be an only child, and the world would have a big problem with dwindling population.
But as he only has to provide for them and my varied and constant food cravings, the world has no need to fear on my behalf.
Some of you might have suspected, as my posts have dropped off dramatically in the last two months, and I am now confirming those suspicions. We have tried to tell Kathleen, too, but as her ability for non-literal thought is limited, she hasn't really understood yet. However, she will around May 14, when her life drastically changes and she is no longer the sun around which Brandon and I orbit. Which is a good thing; everyone needs to realize at some point in their life that while intrinsically full of worth, they don't deserve to have to world rotate around them - nobody here does.
Friends have asked if this pregnancy is better or worse than the last one, but I honestly have to admit that the memories of the last one are quite fuzzy. I now understand what my mother said about selective memory having something to do with more than one child. Brandon asserts that men's memories are better than that, and if the childbearing were left up to them, everyone would be an only child, and the world would have a big problem with dwindling population.
But as he only has to provide for them and my varied and constant food cravings, the world has no need to fear on my behalf.
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