Time Stood Still and Slipped Past Like a Sneaky Sneak-o-sneak

(seriously, I wote this on the 24th. Just didn't hit publish until the 25th)Today is my e-baby's birthday.

You were once small enough to use my finger as a chin up bar. I would get lost in that tiny hand while time stood still.

When you were an infant, I would look at your fingers and eyelashes while time stood still.

When you were one I watched you dance while time stood still.

When you were two I listened to your stories while time stood still.

When you were three I explored the world with you while time stood still.

Now you are four. Time stood still. Time passed in a flash. I am so proud of you and cannot wait to see what you will do next. Thumbs up to you, little mama.

A little over 4 years ago, imagining what it would be like to have a daughter, I didn't know what to expect. She's just like me. She's just like SNG. She's not like anyone else. She's unchecked, unbounded joy. She's curiosity. She's wisdom. She's in her underpants and cowboy boots. She's dressed as a princess. She's everything I ever want in a daughter. She steps on my last nerve sometimes. I can't imagine life without her, and the world is a sweeter place with her in it.

Nice Sunday Evening

Happy Birthday, Lizard!!!!

This is a quick post to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my BFF Lizard. I hope you had a fantastic day, and we're all sending you lots of birthday hugs! I am so glad to have you as my friend!!

A Belated Half-birthday Post!

Jambuca's 18-month happened while I was out of town, so I accidentally missed his doctor's appointment. It was rescheduled for today.

The big deal: last shots until Kindergarten!!!!

He took his shots very well, and seemed more angry about the being held down part than about the actual injections part. He cheered right up once he was able to sit up again. By the time we left, he was guffawing and running down the hallway. I asked him whether he wanted a Nutri-grain bar, and he said "HARHARHA!" I don't know what is in those things that makes them like crack for little kids, but it makes bribery a snap.

He's still tracking along at 50% on length and weight, and he's doing fine on all his skills. Further ahead on gross motor than anything else, as I discovered myself when I came into the kitchen only to find him climbing on the counter. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, is safe in our house unless it's under lock and key. It won't be long until he figures those out as well. He can already open the outside doors of the house if they aren't locked.

His language skills are coming along. He still has a LOT more comprehensive vocabulary than expressive. He can point out all sorts of animals and other things in books, follow instructions without me having to point, he knows some body parts and animal sounds. He says lots and lots of stuff, but it mostly sounds like babble. He says giraffe as "jah," milk as "muh," and car as "caaaaaah" (real slow-like). But he does love to try to talk. Thank goodness for sign language, because he can't say goldfish or cookie. But he can sure as heck sign them! Loud and clear! The doc says his language developent is right on median track.

His personality is showing more and more. He's persistent at doing tasks, and enjoys playing with things that involve using his hands. He's open to new people. He likes to play loud games. He likes ACTION! and EXCITEMENT! I can't wait to see what more comes of that personality.

E-baby has a birthday coming up fairly soon. She'll be getting a new bike. Jambuca will be inheriting her walk-bike. I know it will be the highlight of his year.

Boring post, I know, but I have to get these things down for posterity.

The Formerly Late SpiderStan

My last post was a sad one about the death of a man I greatly admired, and who will be sorely missed by many, many people.
This post is also about a man I greatly admire- a man who met death, had a coffee and beignets with death- but who thought better of it and came back to life. Or perhaps death decided they didn't have the right chemistry together. Either way, this is not a sad post.
I wrote most of this post from a hospital waiting room more than a week ago.
On Tuesday two weeks ago, my dad collapsed on a bike ride. His heart had completely and suddenly stopped. He had been riding with two others, one of whom broke his fall (Bail onto a friend! SAVE THE CERVELO!). The other waved down a driver. Within seconds, the driver was doing CPR. Another rider arrived and called 911. The passerby did CPR for a good 10 minutes. If you've ever done CPR training, you know that's hard work. EMS arrived. They shocked SpiderStan multiple times before loading him into an ambulance and one of dad's long-time dearest friends rode along with them. EMS told the friend that SpiderStan is dead. They promised to keep trying, but don't get your hopes up.

At last, his heart started again. It had taken somewhere between 20 and 30 minutes.

In the hospital, he started moving. He moved his arms and legs. He tried to remove the IVs. This was a good sign: he had not been paralyzed. Then he was out again. At one time, he had 12 IV bags going in, along with a breathing tube, a draining tube from his stomach, a heart pump, catheter, and probably some other unpleasantness he's glad to forget.

To save his brain, the doctors induced a coma, and cooled his body temperature to 89.6 degrees. He would stay this way 24-48 hours. All we could do was sit and wait.

Meanwhile, I was at the office. The office! Who gives a CRAP about the OFFICE? This is my DAD! The INVINCIBLE guy! I was at work. Eating my own hands. At last, Mom gave me the green light to come to town after she was assured that he would not die while I was in transit. Jambuca and I arrived around 10:30pmTuesday.

My brother picked us up from the hospital. My brother, who was mom's rock all day long, and she was his. He warned me that it would be shocking to see dad like this. I was afraid of what I'd feel, looking at my dad in such as state. He is invincible. I couldn't compute SpiderStan = Comatose. We got to the hospital around midnight and mom sent me up to see him. I walked in. He was a mess of tubes and wires, dried blood here and there, lots of mechanical noises, and a smell I've never smelled before, and that I will never forget. A horrible, sterile, chemical smell. He was wrapped hed to foot in cooling blankets. And there was my dad's arm. I put my hand on his arm. And I knew that he was going to live. He had no intention of leaving so soon. I told him I was here. I described the trip. I said that I love him and that hundreds of people are praying for him. I knew he could hear me.

The next day, the hospital waiting area was full of the worried faces of people like us, hoping for the best for their family members, fearing the worst. We paced, not knowing whether he would remember us when he woke up. Would he walk again? Speak again? Pick up a baby again?

My mom slept less than anyone, but you'd never know to see her. She was fresh, energetic, keeping all the rest of the family and friends from singing in a minor key.

Wednesday night, she slept in the ICU. That night, he woke up.  For the first few hours, he didn't know what had happened to him, why he was in the hospital, why he couldn't sit up, why he had these damned tubed and wires all over him. He knew mom, and later in the morning, he knew my brother, he knew me. He remembered everything up to the day of the ride. That would come later as well. Nothing had been lost. He was all there 100%, but with a serious wake up call.

SpiderStan
* can fix anything.
* always knows the best way out of a sticky situation.
* loves to ride a bike
* loves the sound of his grandchildren's laughter
* thinks romantic thoughts about my mom, all the time, and thinks we don't notice
* is my hero

Dad had open-heart surgery last week, and he's recovering remarkably well. I think I'll go to Texas in September, around the time he gets back on his bike, so I can keep up with him. By December, he'll be faster than ever. Then I'll have to make him pull the kids in the trailer (again).

I'm sorry it has taken so long to get this post up Every time I read it, it's not quite what I want to say. It still isn't but eventually you just have to put it out there and call it eough.

Dad, I'm so glad you are OK. I love you!

Everything I Really Need To Know I Learned From Dr B.

* If someone with road rage tries to get you outof your car for a fight, even if you did nothing to cause it, say "I'm so sorry" in the most sympathetic way you can muster (through the window). Whatever's making your opponent so angry, there's nothing you can say to make it better. A sincere apology goes a long way to soothe blind fury.
* Too much structure is oppressive, but kids need some kind of structure. Schools with no rules produce kids with no direction.
* If you don't teach your kid the meaning of inappropriate self disclosure, their friends will.
* Every opportunity that comes your way, give it serious consideration. You won't take every opportunity, but give everything a chance. You can't get to the next station if you don't jump on the train.
* Never lose your sense of humor. If your name rhymes with a brand of beer, let people make knock-off t-shirts to honor you.
* Always be kind. Smile easily.
* Know more about math than you strictly need to. Sometimes it comes in handy in conversation.
* Trust others to be their best.

Every time I go back to Dallas, I tell myself that I need to pay a visit to my old university and visit Dr. B. I worked in his research lab 94-95 and was the lab manager from 95-96, and he was instrumental in my making the choices I made for graduate school. But I never managed to stop by and say hello. I received tragic news this evening. He and his wife were excellent climbers. Mt Ranier was practically his playground as a young man, and his stories about being a professional mountain climber were fuel for the adventurous imagination. My heart goes out to their 2 sons. I can't imagine how hard this is for them.

Sorry this post is depressing. I wanted to get something out in words to keep a memory alive. Happier posts coming later, I promise. If you pray, please send up a nice word for a couple who should have been around to see grandchildren, to enjoy retirement, to have another vacation, to mentor another student, to care for another toddler. I hope they're hiking heavenly cloud mountains.

This week's list of random collected items of little or no interest.

I'm still trying out the Glycemic Load diet, and after losing 2 pounds the second week, I gained 2 1/2 pounds the third week (no change the first week, BTW). That was kind of depressing, so I drowned my sorrows in chocolate covered almonds and raisins. Then, back to the program again. It occurred to me later that the 2 1/2 pounds might well have been muscle, since I've been getting in some consistent workouts for a change. Let's give it a month to see whether I can chip away at my badonka-donk on this diet, and if not, I'll probably switch to something else.

The exercise program has been terrific. Some neighbors (not the bike riders next door; other neighbors) turned me onto a half-marathon training program that they did last year, which takes you from novice/5K runner to half-marathon in 12 weeks. They said it was really good, and another friend at work also did it several years ago and vouched for it as well. So, I'm on it as well, with a little adaptation...

He assumes you're starting from 5K. At one time, 5K was no big deal -- the typical morning jog to work was about 5K, and the afternoon jog home was 10K cross-country on hills.  Oh, to be young and invinvible and elastic. That was 4 years ago. Since then, I've alternated between being a little out of shape and just plain lazy. So, I'm taking 2 weeks to get to the base level of the program, doing basically the first week of the program but with shorter running distances.

For starters, I ran 2 miles on Sunday. I went early to beat the heat. HA! It was hot, it was muggy, there was no breeze. My heartrate wasn't very high but I could not push my body to any kind of speed and the whole time I felt like I was going to just keel over with heat exaustion.
Monday is a "stretch and stregthen" day, so I did the Yoga DVD that PIC loaned me. That was great! I did the warm up and level 1, so it was just 30 minutes, and it felt so good to do deep stretches and hold poses that made my muscles all warm and tingly. It was refreshing. I especially like that the instructor reminds me of Neil Patrick Harris, and all I can think of are the Harold and Kumar movies, and Dr Horrible's Sing Along Blog, and that just makes me smirk and giggle the whole time. I also like that the models in the DVD are not skinny. I hate skinny models on workout DVDs.
This evening I ran 2 miles in light rain, cool air, a little breeze, and it felt SOOOOOO GOOOOOD. I could push the speed further, enjoy taking deep breaths (instead of feeling like I'd suffocate from the heat), and afterwards, I did 30 minutes of Yoga for a cooldown and stretch. E-baby even did some yoga with me, but eventually decided she would prefer to do pilates, so she did a pilates workout alongside my yoga. You go, girl, do your own thang. I like both.

NON-WORKOUT UPDATES-- In just the last week, Jambuca's been really working hard at talking. It's mostly words that only a mother can understand, but for example, yesterday in the hour of getting ready for work in the morning he said six different words that I noticed. For the record, they were fish, flower, milk, bowl, bear, bird, and food. Or approximations thereof. I'm so delighted. It will be really fun to have little tiny 1-2 word conversations with him.

Garden's go lots of big melons, some of which I did not know I planted. I have no idea what they are. They are probably the seeded pollinators that are required to accompany a seedless melon variety so that they'll pollinate, but they sure aren't watermelons! They're light green and football shaped! I'll keep you posted as I learn more.

The tomatoes we have are delicious served in thick slices, topped with sizzling-hot turkey bacon and melted cheese over that. Mmmmmmmm.

That's all for now. Have a great week!

Work Deadlines, Familiy Visits, Fad Diets, and More!

Since March, it has been so busy at work that at home, after the kids are in bed, I'm usually working. Last week, the worst of it passed. This project has been tremendously fun, but I'm glad to have a little time to sit and write a blog entry for a change.

I'm also glad to be able to ride to work again. I've had to get to work as early as possible and stay as late as possible given the daycare's schedule, and that means no biking. Next week-- bike!!

It's been bothering SNG and me lately that we haven't been on the bikes in so long, and never without pulling a trailer, so I made arrangements with one of e-baby's old teachers to babysit on Saturday mornings for us. The guys next door also ride, and they've gotten tired of the group ride shenanigans, so we now have a running date with them to ride out from the cul-de-sac. Sweet! As a warm-up, we rode a hilly 16 mile loop this weekend. Um, ouch. I am in sorry shape. It was really fun, though, to feel the wind and hear the road, out with friends on a bike, without a trailer, and be able to say 4-letter-words (which I did, repeately, with reckless abandon).

After the bike ride, Dianaverse came over and we worked on her chair. She has this cool highbacked dining chair she picked up for a song somewhere and it is begging to be artifully decorated to match this old embroidered cushion she also has.

The garden's doing OK. While my parents were in town week before last, we put in trellises for the melons. It's nice, but more than half of the little baby melons are molding and turning black and dying before they get bigger than a golf ball. I don't know what the deal is there.

While mom and dad were here, mom got me started on her latest fad diet, the Glycemic Load diet. Like so many others, it's a no sugar, no flour, low starch diet. Unlike others, you can have all the fruits and vegetables you want. I love fruit, which has been my problem with so many low-carb diets. So far, so good. It isn't hard, and if I can drop 15 pounds on it, I'll be happy enough to eat (or not eat) whatever they tell me. I fixed a batch of banana bran muffins using a recipe from the book, but with wheat germ instead of wheat bran. I thought they were the same thing! They're not. The muffins were super-tasty and that was my first clue that something was wrong. So, back to the store for a bag of sawdust and I made a second batch, with the right ingredients. They were still quite acceptable. Not as tender as the ones with wheat germ, but the taste and moistness were good.

So between the new diet and the time to get some exercise, hopefully by this time next year, I'll be writing about how none of my clothes fit because they're all too big, woe is me. :-)

Small Is Tremendous

I was getting e-baby ready for bed, and singing her one of my favorite songs and she was looking at me, so sweetly, so happily, with all this love in her eyes, and she touched my face in that heartachingly sweet way, and when I finished the song, she moved her little thumb to my nose and said,
(e-baby): Smell my thumb. Does it smell good?
(me): Ummmmmm, I guess so? Where’s it been?
This was apparently the funniest thing she’d ever heard anyone say, and when she recovered from her paralyzing laughter, she held up her little thumb to ask it.
(as e-baby): Where have you been, little thumb?
(as thumb): In Mexico!!
Which was the funniest thing I had ever heard anyone say.

Ranting and Raving: A Mother's Perspective

Duh, I should never read the comment on cnn's website. It's always bugged me when people think that the sound of a child is de facto a horrible thing, even if the child is oh, I don't know, laughing? Singing? Talking? I want to say, "Did you ever stop to think that your ugly self is interfering with that kid's fun as much as her voice is interfering with yours?" My annoyance with these curmudgeons is multipled n-fold now that I have little talking, singing, laughing people in tow with me most of the time.

People Suck Who:
* Think that any public temper tantrum is either a) the parents' fault for not beating the child enough or b) the child's fault for being the spawn of satan, because all children are inherently evil and need to be beten. Or locked up.
* Think that children should be kept out of public places. The "kids are spawn of satan" attitudes are usually accompanied by an attitude that children should not be taken out in public until they're old enough to behave. OK, so if I keep my kids at home until they're 10, they'll learn how to behave in public around adults. Riiiiight.
* Think that children should never be seen in public and also wonder why they never see their friend anymore since she had kids-- and don't even give me that "just call a babysitter" crap. Unless you're payin'. How's about offering to help out instead of bitching? Better yet, don't call. No one needs friends like that.
* Assume that if a kid is misbehaving that the parents are just LETTING IT HAPPEN, how dare they, and not even trying to stop junior from kicking the back of your airplane seat/talking too loudly in a restaurant/unrolling the toilet paper in the public bathroom/whatever, Stop. Think. Who wants their kid to do those things? No One. Who stands idly by and thinks it's funny? No One (well, OK, I do know some dads like that, but they're almost never trusted alone with the kids anyway).

I'd love to see people (cnn's readers, I'm looking at you!) give parents a break, and the benefit of the doubt. When this behavior is at its apex, Mom is probably planning her strategy to take away a week's worth of TV and steeling up the nerve to lay down this punishment. Because when that punishment is announced, hoo-mama, it's gonna get UGLY.

You used to be a kid. So did I, so did your own parents. Maybe your parents beat the crap out of you when you misbehaved, maybe they didn't, but they did what they could, the best they could, to civilize you, a wild creature, to become who you are today. But you were a pill sometimes, I was a pill sometimes, we all embarassed our parents in public at some point, and they didn't just lock us up in the basement until we were 10 (if yours did do that, then I apologize for my insensitivity to your plight).

Someday my kids will complain to their friends that a spanking would have been SO much easier than the lecture and suspension of privileges their mom doles out. Sorry, kiddos, that's how I roll-- I could no sooner hit you than cut off my own finger. But a long lecture and no tv for a week? You bet I can be that mean. I'm doing my best to civilize some wild creatures. They don't understand their own emotions, or long-term consequences, or even that showing your mommy's boss' boss' boss the chigger bite in your butt in the breakroom isn't appropriate. But these little wild animals are still human. They're as much members of society as you or me or that grumpy guy in row 23D who thinks that airlines should book "adult-only" flights as a service to passengers like himself who can't take the heat. I agree- the airlines should book assholes-only flights as a service to the rest of us.

My friend Jen told me that her parish priest wanted to create a "crying room" at the church-- for people who can't stand to hear children crying in church. That's my kind of guy. 

If you're still reading, thanks for listening to my temper tantrum. I feel much better! :-D

A Butterfly CATCH-ING Net!

Last week was a run-through a class I'm working on, and it all went well, although 40 hours of teaching, coming on the heels of the strep throat misery was a bit stressful. I kind of like stress. No, I really like stress. But it does take its toll on my health- no exercise all week, and the diet was put on a back-burner.

Last night when I got home from work I wanted to relax. Dinner was lazy-- whatever's in the fridge and easy to heat up. And some ramen on the side. I had some leftover blueberries from lunch that Jambuca pilfered out of my bag, and he ate them all up, guffawing happily over these wonderful tidbits he'd stolen.

This morning we went to Durham so e-baby and I could participate in a Duke U research study about overworked, stressed-out mothers of two kids under 4 and how we can't exercise or eat right. It's the one-year follow up. We are in the control group, where they don't give us any tips on how to eat right and exercise when you're a stressed out mother of 2-under-4. They also want to videotape one of our dinners at home so they can see how badly stressed-out mothers of 2-under-4 manage a healthy diet and a tranquil, clean, organized home.

While we were being measured, SNG took Jambuca down the street to Whole Foods and bought a giant clamshell of blueberries, probably 3 pounds or so. He remarked at how much Jambuca liked the berries. I wasn't surprised. Then we went shopping, e-baby got a butterfly-CATCH-ING net (you have to say it like that, apparently). Jambuca had a cup of berries to keep him occupied while we perused the aisles of our favorite import shop. We went to lunch across the street at a Tex-Mex joint. Jambuca wasn't interested in Tex-Mex. He wanted blueberries. We refilled his cup. He ate them all. Later at home, he ate more blueberries. Three cups more. We are now down to less than half the clamshell of blueberries.

Then he had a poop. "Alphagal? You down there? Come up, I need some help!"

HAHAHAAAAHAHAHAAHAAHAA!

HA!

HAHAHA!
SNG got some on his arm-- I thought it was a blue ink stain. The whole Jambuca bottom, both cheeks down to his thighs, were inky blue, after a once-over with wipes.

e-baby thought it was the funniest thing ever. We've been saying blueberry-POOP! all evening. She's also been using her new butterfly CATCH-ING net to catch dozens of fireflies. Once she catches one, she releases it and says, "You are now free to go." And it flies off, oblivious to the fact that it will be recaptured in just a few minutes.

There's nothing like poop and fireflies to melt the stress away.

Customer Service Day! But first, a pity party.

First, this week...

has sucked.

I had the first of 3 major deadlines for this massive project at work on Wednesday at noon, and wouldn't you know, not 5 minutes after I turned everything over to the editors, I started feeling rotten- nauseated, feverish, mild sore throat. So, you know, the timing was good. I taught Wed afternoon and felt a little worse Wed night, but I had meeting Thursday and teaching Thursday afternoon, so I went to work (that was a mistake). By Thursday night, I felt like I'd been drinking lye. All night I tossed and turned with the pain of not being able to swallow. The glands in my neck were so swollen you could (still can) see them poking out. By this morning, it was hard to inhale through my mouth because my throat was so swollen.

I started thinking about maybe going to the doctor, but you know, they'll just tell me it's a virus and to wait it out and I'll feel like such a wuss for going to the doctor about a sore throat. But I went anyway. Good thing, because I have strep throat. Which, luckily, is treatable. But OUCH!!!!!

I think I had strep once in high school, but I'm not totally sure, but this is for sure the most painful throat thing I've ever had. Still not as bad as the ear thing in Ireland (was that streptocochlea instead of streptococcus?), but as far as throat things go, this is horrible. I've been on amoxicillin since this morning and yes, I stayed home from work today. And yes, I felt guilty about canceling a meeting with someone (whom I've already rescheduled with at least once), but I bet she'd rather cancel the meeting than CATCH STREP THROAT, right?

I can't nap because it hurts too much. There's no escape from the pain. Four ibuprofen every 4 hours, chloraseptic every hour or so, they don't do a whole lot to combat this.

Oh, yeah, I was going to tell you why this is Customer Service Day. Today, everywhere I went, I encountered super nice people working in menial customer service jobs. Must be a donut day thing. At the drug store, I got a sympathetic look from the pharmacist who said "I hope you feel better soon!" I hadn't even told her I was the sick one (although the raspy voice and hangdog look gave it away, I'm sure).

When I picked up the kids from daycare, I took them over to Walmart (yes, I know, I boycotted them for years, but now they have this sustainability index and so I'll go there no more than once a month  /rationalization). We picked out 2 presents for birthday parties e-baby's going to this weekend, and then she had to pee. In the bathroom, I discovered that Jambuca had blown out his pamper and had a smelly wet spot on the leg of his pants. *sigh* back into the store to get the cheapest diapers and wipes and a new pair of shorts from the clearance rack. The bathroom is right next to the returns dept at the rear of the store. I had the lady ring me up, and she recognized the graviy of the situation (e-baby told her ALL about it), and offered to look after e-baby while I changed Jambuca in the bathroom. The 2 ladies from photo processing showed her a bunch of pictures (heh- probably customers' orders). I was so grateful. When I came out, she had also attracted a manager who had given her a sheet of promotional Twilight tattoos. I've never seen greatness in the Walmart until today. It was refreshing. I want that nice lady to get a promotion.

After Walmart, I was dying of thirst and pain, so we stopped at ChikFilA and all 3 of us got milkshakes. It was Jambuca's first milkshake. You'd think he had just seen a glimpse of Heaven. The people at ChikFilA were also exceptionally helpful and friendly. Each of the kids went home with a new cow, and I didn't have to carry anything to the table myself. Except Jambuca, who wanted to go behind the counter and make some waffle fries.

Now I'm starting to wonder if all of this was because I looked SO pathetic and hangdog, in which case, that's kind of sad. But maybe because it's donut day, everyone was just in a better mood.

This is why I don't go to the bathroom in private

This morning, I went to my bedroom to find something. The kids were eating and playing, no sharp object, everything was fine. While I was there, I went into my bathroom to um, use the bathroom. e-baby started looking for me. I heard her yell, "MOOOOOOOMMMMEEEEEEE!" and I hollered back but from 3 rooms away, she didn't hear me.

Meanwhile, since e-baby couldn't find me, she went outside to look. Didn't find me there, came back in, started playing again.

I came out of the bathroom, and it was quiet...


too quiet...


Jambuca was missing. I saw the wide-open garage door and panicked. He had toddled out and into the front yard, and was having a nice conversation with Spud, our little scarecrow in the front garden.

SNG wonders why I think it's nuts that he wants his privacy when he goes to the bathroom and kids are around. Maybe it's because whenever I have my privacy, something terrible happens, ya think?

Memorial Day and the Garden

First, an update: Windows 7-- STILL HAS NOT CRASHED! Ha. HahahahahahaHA! Take THAT, Vista!

It's Saturday night of Memorial Day weekend and a 3-day weekend couldn't have come at a worse time, work-wise. I've already put in an extra 4 hours since I left work Friday, and if I had a full day at work on Monday, things would look a lot more manageable. Still, though, I'm not really complaining. Like a lot of people, I get some of my best work done when it's do-or-die time. And it's more fun that way. Go figure.

We did have some normal fun today. The 4 of us wandered the neighborhood a little, went to BJ's and bought a barrel of cheese balls (Jambuca is trying to finish them off all by himself), and had Red Robin for dinner. Jambuca and e-baby have been pretty grumpy today, and when we got home I figured out why-- it's this cold they are sharing! Jambuca was running a fever, and e-baby was just pooped. He was asleep by 6:45 and she was out before 8. On top of that, he's got really gloopy eyes. It's probably his blocked tear ducts (the doctor diagnosed it last year and it acts up every time he has a cold) but to be safe, I'm giving him antibiotic eye drops which just makes him cry.

I am hoping to fend off this iteration of the cold because I have to teach throughout June-- and have been teaching the last 2 weeks straight as well. It would be a bad time to lose my voice (again).

The garden's going great. Although I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed about the volume of food it produces. The plants are doing well, and they seem to be productive, but so far the only things the garden has kept me from buying at the store are spinach and snow peas. Which, you know, how much of that do you normally buy anyway? The strawberries were mostly eaten by ants for the 3 or 4 weeks that they produced, and now they're pretty much all done. The snow peas are having a second wind right now, but that'll end soon. I've had some swiss chard, but never more than one person's side-dish's worth. Carrots aren't ready to pick, beans produce maybe 4-5 a day. No asparagus or artichoke this year (I knew that when I planted them), no tomatoes yet, no pumpkins or melons yet. The yellow squash look promising-- there are probably 40-50 tiny little baby squashes on the plants right now, but some of the squashes just turn wilty and brown right there on the plant. I don't have a ton of faith that they'll make it through the summer without an infestation of vine borers. I'm gardening organic, whih means all I do is look for the eggs (to SQUASH 'em! get it?) and spray Dr Bronner's lavender soap on them to kill any little beasties that might be around.

But it has been a super-fun experiment, and e-baby has eaten more spinach than, well, ever in her whole life. If I'm honest, she never ate any spinach beyond the little bit I used to sneak into her baby purees long, long ago. She'd balk at anything green in her food. Now she walks along the fence picking and eating snow peas and spinach leaves. She picks strwaberries for Jambuca (if they have't already been eaten by ants) and he eats them (and the snow peas) like candy. I have the joy of seeing the magic of a seed growing into a plant through the eyes of someone not yet jaded by modern conveniences. And that's worth all the money, time, and hard work of creating this monstrous garden.