TX- Big Sick

Little One stayed up past Her bedtime for the Big Party, so we didn't think too much of it when She slept in the next morning. Well, other than: "Hallelujah we all get to stay in bed! Woo hoo we get to linger over coffee! Thank goodness She's resting up, She'll be in such a good mood!" Ha.
Eventually we thought we'd get Her up before She slept right though nap time. The second I touched Her sleepy Little One body I thought, "uh oh".
Here are some numbers, to demonstrate what happened next:
103.4-degrees radiating from my Little One.
And then, 105.
1- trip to the ER
1 -torture chamber device for an X-Ray, with Her body encased in a plexi-glass contraption that pinned Her arms over Her head and left Her feet dangling in the air.
5- wires attached
1-catheter
7- times it was explained to us that it was vital to start an IV because of Her heart rate.
2- parents who took turns holding Her down while
5- nurses tried
dozens- of times with
6-needles to start an IV. Which they never did.
3- People who asked me to leave Her so they could try again.
0-seconds either of us left Her alone.
1- J who never gets upset telling the staff not to touch his baby again or we'd walk out.
212- how high Her heart rate got.
4- flavors of pedialyte brought to us
2- flavors sent back because She is allergic to them.
10- hours altogether before we took Her home, for
5-Days of fevers vascillating between 102 and 105.4
6-sleepless nights
1-more trip to a doctor- peds clinic this time.
30-seconds it took the nurse there to draw blood and get the band aid on. Amazing.
7- days from start to finish, until She was back to Herself again.

Little One was so traumatized by this whole experience that for days after anyone holding Her arm- say to put it in a sleeve, or to wipe oatmeal off of it- caused little tears to flow while She shook Her head and pleaded, "No-no! No-no! All done. All done!"
She's a little leaner, tipping the scales at the same exact weight as She was on Her first birthday, which puts Her back into 6 month-sized clothes. But She's better, eating, singing, playing. One of Her new favorite toys is the pretend-doctor set, which She uses to look in everyone's ears and give Herself lots of "shots". Sort of interesting.
It's sobering when a baby gets sick, especially if things go sort of wrong, and I realize how fragile they really are. At the same time I realize how brave, and how strong She is. She never did get an IV, never did get anything but Tylenol, and Her teeny little body fought off the Big Sick all by itself. In the end it was just a virus. A really bad, nasty virus.

In Texas, even the germs are bigger!

New year, new look

Right before we left on Christmas for the country of Texas, Little One had Her first haircut. It was surprisingly hard to do, not just because of the constant wiggling and turning around. It made even J, the least sentimental of all tear-duct wearing people, wince and lament over the loss of Her sweet curls.
They were sweet. And curly. But, see. They were so looooong. In the back. And so not long, on the sides. And....I know we were on our way to Texas and everything, but.....
Well I just couldn't allow a mullet to walk among us forever, Peanuts, however sweetly it may have curled. So here She is, for posterity, and so you all may mourn the curls or cheer the death of mullet, however you are so inclined:

Before:


Going under the knife:

The damage:


And after:

TX- Big Party

My sister.
My sister graduated from college. Woo hoo!
Now the thing about my sister is, she is not me. She is not your sister. She is not who you think she is, who you want her to be, or some mish-mash of other people and confusion, which many new college graduates are. She is not anyone other than her self, and there are few people in the world that can really be their own selves as well as my sister can. My sister, she doesn't care what you think. Or if you like her Self. Because she knows that she rocks and she does it her own way.
That's what is one of the best things about Little One's Tia E. She makes her own way, and does things the way she does them, and to me she has always seemed like a person who is less about playing along and fitting into the world, than a person who creates life as she goes. Like a painter.
My sister took a rather circuitous route to get to the graduation woo hoo, because that's just how her path goes. It sort of meanders, and sometimes its not a path at all, just wilderness. Only my sister can go through wilderness and come out of it smiling, with a college degree.
Which my family decided was a pretty good reason for a party.
So we all took over a lovely little place on the river, and drove the staff crazy by getting in the way, laughing really loud, and staying way too late. So late that I had to get Little One into bed and missed the after party. (I am taking a rain check on that, by the way, sister.) Woo hoo!












Little sister E, I wish your path would lead your self a little closer to me sometimes. But I am lucky that you do, in fact, rock, and that I get to see you do it and hear wild stories about it and admire you for being you, and for accomplishing things, and for making up your own rules. Decades of trying to boss you around, and I still have to watch you ignore my advice and do what you want. Good thing you do such great things. I'm proud of you. Texas sized proud, in fact.

Nobody Expects the Spanish Imposition!

Didn't I tell you I had traveling tales? I do! It starts like this:
J was given a glorious chance. To complete two elective rotations, anywhere in the world he chose. Paris! Milan! Bora Bora! Anywhere!
We thought about it, we had many ideas. In the end, we decided that we'll have lots of chances to take trips to far flung locales*, but how often will we have the opportunity to impose upon our families for an extended amount of time?? For several reasons, I'm pretty sure just once! So we routed the family down by the Mexican border for a few months, camping the whole circus act, human, animal, vegetable, and Little One in a fabulous, free lodging that comes with occasional child-care and continental breakfast!
We wanted Little One to get to know her family. We wanted bonding, and quality time. And... oh. What a nice coincidence that we happened to go- to the dessert- during the nastiest, coldest, muddiest months of the DC year. heh heh. We chose a rotation in Arizona, which is coming up in February.
And in order to impose fairly upon everyone, we also chose one in a place that is, after all, pretty much foreign travel. Little One and I took Her 27th and 28th planes, and J and the doggies had an overnight road trip, and here we all are, in the country of Texas. Ooohh.

Texas is a strange, strange place, Peanuts. It's not everywhere that you can be vehemently damned to hell by a stranger on the street and blessed by a stranger in a restaurant in the same day. Texas is a place where the churches on each corner face off with grimacing porticos and steeple envy. A place where all the names of hospitals and schools are preceded by their respective denomination, where chaplains are part of the nursing staff in the ER, and people out to eat hold hands and close their eyes around little dishes of flan. A place so saturated with the Almighty can't help but do things on a grander, more omnipotent scale. What have we learned about Texas, Peanuts? We have learned that everything in the country of Texas is Big. The names of little stores are stamped on signs the size of my dining room, perched impressively on 60 foot posts. The vehicles on the freeway roar past my prius on gigantic tires and threaten to give it a swirlie later. The grocery store. Good gracious. It is BIG. It's all big. You will see.

The Playground is bigger...


The babydolls are bigger...


Chickens are much bigger...


And boots, well. The boots are much, much bigger.





*We have no supporting evidence for this decision. While we're at it we'd better "decide" to win the lottery and find a yaught in the back yard.

And a partridge! In a pear tree!

I like tradition. Holiday traditions, especially. Hullo, we are cath-o-lic for goodnessake. So there were lots of holiday shenanegans going on, to properly indoctinate Little One into the rich traditional heritage of the birth of our Savior. Like, choo-choo trains.

And miles and miles of sparkly twinkly lights!

And parties with presents, and a little dog too!

Chocolatey advent calendars!

And cookie baking parties!

And visits from family!!

And Santa coming to our house! On a lit of fire truck blasting carols and spewing candy canes!

And opening packages on Christmas morning!

And 6 million tons of ice, carved into... polar bears!

And toys!

And a life-sized Dickonsonian Christmas scene!

And a two story slide! Whee!

And....gosh my Arizonan in-laws look awfully cold in the 9 degrees....no matter I'm sure they just loved the icy penguins!

And the 20 foot angel!

And, oh!

There he is. Yes.

And remembering that guy.

Tradition is important. And, if you ask me (be sure you ask me, and NOT J) also fun. There should be even more holiday traditions around here!

Hmm. Like posting pictures a month after they happened. Looks like that's shaping up to be a nice tradition around here as well.