It seems some weeks that parenting a toddler is just an endless series of battles. Some you win, and some you lose.

Often times they are battles of will. Toddlers are learning to express themselves, and in so doing you get their exhortations and demands for what they want. Lately around here we are teaching “please”. Stinkerbelle has become quite vocal in expressing what she wants, usually by repeating “More! More! More!” at a very high volume and signing it like mad. She will repeat it with escalating urgency and volume until you acknowledge her. She knows how to say please, and has done for a year or so, thanks to sign language. But she is learning, as we often shush her and tell her to do, that saying “please” will get things done MUCH faster. She seems to think this is good. This is a battle we are winning. And everybody is happy.

One we are sort of holding our ground on is a battle over eating. That Baby STILL has issues with textures and chewing, and so we’re still feeding her the mushy stuff. (Hey, you find yourself waking up one day with a mouth FULL of teeth, and tell me how you get on.) But she is learning to crunch and tear and chew, which is great progress. She still hasn’t figured out that if she just keeps it in her mouth and swallows… VOILA! Eating! But that will come. On the losing front, though, is that she has a remarkable capacity for holding a mouthful of food in her mouth. She can talk and sing and breathe around this mouthful FOR. FREAKING. EVER. And it drives me to distraction. Mealtimes, consequently, can take an hour or more. We win some food battles, and we lose some. But in the end, the whole eating thing will work out just fine, so it’s best not to stress it.

A battle that we are losing is the naptime battle. That Baby still does not nap longer than 45 minutes most days, after many, many months of a good 2-hour nap in the afternoons. (Except today. 2 hours! I am SO happy!) She’s going on fumes some days, she is so tired, but since the start of February her napping has been all off. And it’s making me not a nice person. I am not having my best mommy days when that child wakes, inconsolable, after 45 minutes — and to be honest, they’re not her best days either. I am NOT willing to just surrender napping. She is too young. So we will just have to keep working on it. Warmer weather will help, because as it gets warmer, we can go outside and she will be able to run and play and tire herself out before naptime rolls around.

Other battles are just disappearing of their own accord, which is nice. We will not have a battle over weaning from a bottle, because That Baby is cool with sippies and cups — but it won’t be an issue until we figure out the eating thing and I can be sure she’s full throughout the day. We also are finding we are able to go back to the grocery store with the crazy checkout ladies because now that Stinkerbelle is older, heavier and less snuggleable and less baby-like, they seem less interested in carrying her off. The main culprits can’t even remember her name, which is most excellent news. And the ones who are respectful of not freaking her mom out are still loving up That Baby while leaving her in her stroller or shopping cart, which I wholeheartedly endorse. And a lot of battles, over getting out of the stroller and walking, or wanting to go on the swings or whatever, are going by the wayside because Stinkerbelle’s comprehension of what we’re saying is increasing by leaps and bounds, so all we have to do is talk to her and she understands and is fine with it. I know that won’t always be the way, but being able to communicate, rather than being frustrated, is something we both are enjoying.

As That Baby grows, into the Terrible Twos and Tumultuous Threes, we’re soon going to learn how to pick our battles and learn some ways to cope with the tantrums and willfulness and needs for independence. They’re going to be battles of a different sort, I am sure, and some will be won and some lost. But right now at least, we’re winning enough on each side that both parties are happy most of the time, and so hopefully we’ll remember that as we carry on.

When things are good, they are really good:

• The week began with the Olympic hockey gold. The week started on an optimistic note.

• We have had above-zero weather, sunny and warmish, so I have taken That Baby out for a walk in the stroller in the mornings, and it has been WONDERFUL. Our first walks of the year! Not only do we get outside in the sunshine and fresh air, but I also get my exercise done for my 100 Day Challenge in the morning and that means any free time for the rest of the day is MINE. Plus, That Baby gets outside, which she loves to do. So everybody wins. (Do you KNOW what I did with my FREE TIME last night? I KNIT. AND I watched M*A*S*H. It was bliss on a sofa, I tell you what.)

• Stinkerbelle has met a couple of kids on our street this week, and it has given her some playtime. Not much, but enough that she is playing with other kids and running around outside and having some fun. And that is important to me, because I want her to find some little friends.

• We have been walking for about 90 minutes, which has equalled around 6 km. Sometimes, like today, it means we can also run an errand or two — and today it was a walk to the department store for some yarn. Where I got one big skien for half price since the wrapper was missing, and they also had bags of bulk skiens from the mill that was ON SALE. So HUZZAH!

• I worked on getting Stinkerbelle back on nap schedule. Starting last Friday, she was napping for a full 1 1/2 to 2 hours everyday again (when we are at home, and not in the car). HUGE good thing for me.

But when they are bad, they kinda suck:

• My car is going to need repairs. The fan belt is making a racket. And now, from the rumblings emitting from it on Monday, it sounds like it’ll need a new muffler or somesuch. And let’s not even mention the air conditioning, which STILL needs fixing.

• Both Stinkerbelle and I started the week with some intestinal fiery death. ‘Nuff said.

• I have come to the conclusion, from the continual headaches, that it’s time to bite the bullet and get a new prescription and some new glasses.

• That Baby woke with a wail after 45 minutes of nap today. I am sad and crabby about this.

Meh. It is probably a good sign for me NOT to play the lottery this week.

I hate February.

Everyone has times in the year that are not their best times. Some people wilt in the heat of summer. Others hate September because they don’t want summer to end and dread going back to school. Me? I hate November and February.

(I have a hate on for August, too. But that is something entirely different, and personal.)

November is rainy and cold and dreary. I don’t enjoy the damp and the cold and the endless overcast days of November, but I can tolerate it. But February? February is much the same, but amped up. February is dark, and buried in snow, and way, way too cold.

I feel depressed in February. I hate the cold, and always have. I have absolutely NO interest in winter sports, except for maybe cross country skiing, and it has been 20 years since I have tried that. I do not skate, I think downhill skiing is a fancy name for “death wish”, and I think snowmobiles are silly (why not just DRIVE in heated comfort?) I do not enjoy being cold. I do not find winter air “bracing” or “exhilarating” or “refreshing” or any of those other stupid adjectives that mean “arse-freezing cold”. I feel housebound, and the inertia gets to me, and I am cranky. I hate feeling that I am trapped indoors. I can occasionally get outside and shovel the driveway or something if the weather is calm and snowy. But for the most part, I am trapped.

I am learning that this feeling is worse with a toddler. She LOVES to go outside, but she is too little to do much except walk up and down the sidewalk. And she gets cold so fast, and her little cheeks get chapped. She doesn’t seem to mind, but I do. She is still a little too young to tell me that she is cold, so I limit her outdoors time. I am grateful for calm days, because then we can get out for a bit, but if there is a wind chill, here in the wind tunnel of tree-denuded suburbia, we stay indoors for all but a short time.

She’s too young to play WITH, for the most part. She is not at an age where she grasps organized play yet, so it’s mostly about flitting from activity to activity and trying to engage with her. But she, like all toddlers, has the attention span of a gnat or a soap dish or a stick of gum — approximately 15 seconds. And I run out of ideas after awhile.

So here we are, the two of us. We’re stuck indoors and are getting a little stir crazy.

I considered buying a sled the other day, and bundling her up, and the two of us heading off into the woods on walks. I’d get my exercise, we’d be sheltered from the wind, and she’d get some outside time. This is something I will have to consider for next winter — scouting out our local conservation areas, buying a decent sled, and planning some walks. The only wrinkle will be what to do about diaper changes, or potty breaks, if we are there yet.

Mercifully, February is more than half over. March is around the corner, and with March will come sunshine, and clearing sidewalks, and some chances to get outside with the stroller and walk again. We can turn off the TV and the radio and the computer, and go OUTSIDE. Spring will be just around the corner. I can take That Baby outside and not worry that the wind will chap her little face, or that her fingers will get too cold. It will be wet and slushy and mucky, but that is okay by me. Muddy clothes can be washed.

And, next winter, she will be a little older. Playing indoors will be a whole different ball game. Or, she will be able to go outside and do more things and tell me if she is cold. So that’s something that will make it a little easier to get through the winter.

In the meantime, we will try our best to get through the rest of February without going completely squirrelly.

It’s the first day of the Olympics, and I find myself weepy and my heart is full on so many levels:

• My heart absolutely breaks for a family somewhere on the other side of the world in Georgia, coping with the unbearable, unthinkable loss of their darling son on the eve of realizing his Olympic dream. What should have been a day of excitement and pride is instead, for them, one of shock and pain and unbearable loss. And knowing that people all over the world are watching him die horrifically over and over and over again, like it is ENTERTAINMENT, must be heartrending.
• I cried at the entry of the Georgian team, black scarves and bands in memory of their fallen teammate.
• BDH and I both whooped with pride at the entry of the Ethiopian team, a classy, charming cross-country skier and his support staff. We are a household of two nations now, and we love it.
• I was so touched to see the men and women at Kandahar standing at attention for the national anthem.
• I agreed with my husband that Canada has indeed got the hottest world leader EVAR in Michaelle Jean. (And was delighted that she got introduced and not that evil zombie Harper.)
• I lovelovelove all the native content — the dancers, the sculpture, the introduction. Very cool.
• My heart swelled with pride and a tear came to my eye at the singing of our national anthem. And I got goosebumps when our team came in. I am SUCH a homer. I admit it.

Well done, Vancouver. This is an impressive start to the games. You’re making a country proud.

I know, I SAID I was getting caught up, and yet? I have been slow about posting my 365 photos, and slow about posting, and slow…

I’ve been sick. And this week is the OMG-it’s-getting-close-to-the-time-to-renew-your-mortgage-and-do-other-financial-type-paperwork week around here. It has been a veritable FLURRY of activity. When I am not, you know, sleeping under the influence of much cold medication.

(I ran out of NeoCitran. I weep.)

It has been all kinds of busy, and my brain has been thick and fuzzy with cold. I mean, BDH spent TWO HOURS last night explaining financials stuff too me. I said to him, “Speak to me as if you were explaining this to a very small child”. And so, he drew PICTURES. (But I understood it.)

But the financial stuff is mostly done, I think — well, except for taxes but that is ANOTHER PAPERWORK BATTLE ALTOGETHER. And we will tackle that later. And I am feeling better, the cold mostly having vacated the premises.

So I will get back to you, Interwebs, I SWEAR. Just be patient with me.

We are home from our holiday. Sad it’s over and had a lovely time, as always, but glad to be home. I think that’s always the way.

And now, I am sitting and trying to plan how to get caught up on a bunch of stuff. Why is it, when you go on holiday, there’s always so much stuff to do when you get back? Even when you had cleaned before you left, so you would be able to come home to a nice clean house?

There’s so much to do, sometimes it’s hard to know where to start. So I am sitting down to plan, to make lists.

When we got home from Ethiopia, it took months — YES, MONTHS — to get our suitcases unpacked and put away. MONTHS. Granted, there was a lot of stuff going on, what with a new little person living here, and me being sick as a sick thing that is really sick, and the endless tired that comes with infant-induced sleep deprivation. But we swore we would never let it take that long to get ourselves re-settled again.

Then we had vacations last spring and summer, and it took for-freaking-ever to get the laundry done and the suitcases put away again.

Oh well. At least it wasn’t months.

So one of the things on our to-do list is to get the suitcases emptied and stuff put away and the laundry done as soon as possible. That will be a task with Busy Toddler Helper shadowing me all day, but maybe we can get some stuff done. And then we have to go get a few groceries, because while we were gone all our milk went off, and we have a mostly-empty fridge. I also have to think about this week’s meals, so it will be a bigger shop than we would probably like. And then there’s some cleaning to be done. Well, there’s a LOT of cleaning to be done, but that’s a long-standing project from before we left and it’s unlikely we’ll make much of a dent in it just now, but we’ll see.

There’s some life stuff to get done, too. I have photos to organize and transfer and post, to catch up on the last few days. Also, I was not great on blogging, but I opted to relax on holiday and so I have to catch up on what I missed.

After that, everyday life stuff begins. We’re on day 35 of our 100 Day Challenge, so there’s exercising to do. I am also part of a 30 Day Yoga Challenge, so I have to do a bit of yoga as well. I have to look through our bills and finances and see what’s what, and as well we have to get some financial papers organized and sent off to our financial advisor, who we met with while on vacation.

Lists are DEFINITELY in order. LOTS OF LISTS.

But on top of all this, do you know what my HIGHEST priority is? The very first, absolute top of my list of things to do?

REMEMBER WHERE I PUT MY FREAKING NOTEPAD WHERE I USUALLY WRITE ALL MY LISTS.

We’re trying to enjoy a little quiet time here these days.

This morning, that means that I’ve got a loaf of bread preparing in the bread maker, and a cup of coffee by my side as I sit and watch That Baby, who is puttering around in front of a Wiggles video. We both are kind of enjoying the down time.

It’s been a flurry of activity these past couple of days. We had play dates and swimming and appointments and visiting to do. That Baby had lots of fun, played hard, met new people, and spent a lot of time in the car. I drove a lot and spent a lot of time out of the house, visiting friends, socializing, getting my hair done (YAY!) and having a good time.

But with all that fun comes a down side. And when you are a toddler, that down side is that your schedule gets disrupted.

That Baby is tired. She’s been up late, and waking a bit early. Her afternoon naps came as we drove around in the car. And one that WAS spent at home was not very good because of an angry molar making an appearance. And all the activity makes a person tired.

Yesterday, we took a down day. That Baby played, mostly quietly, and watched some TV, and we got her back on schedule. She slept like a log, despite the aforementioned molar disrupting her naptime, and we actually had to go wake her up this morning. BDH spent his day, despite a few hours of work yesterday morning, mostly relaxing and napping and playing WoW. And me, I did a lot of nothing, looking for recipes, cooking a bit, and futzing with the camera and some pictures, followed by parking my butt in a chair and watching Our Friends In The North last night.

We’re good with that. A person needs a little down time every now and again. As much fun and as exciting as being out and about is, I think that Stinkerbelle is happy for the break in the action, to just putter around in her own playroom for a little bit, with her own toys and her own stuff around her. And me, I am a creature of habit, so I am happy to be in my own environment as well. I might make some more bread, or throw in a few loads of laundry. Or I may grab a bit of knitting and do that while Stinkerbelle plays. It’s hard to say. But it will definitely be something around home.

It’ll be a quiet week for us, which suits us all fine. Quiet time is restful. And next week, we’re going on a little holiday, so it will be nice to rest up before we travel and head out for more fun.

I like challenges. I find they push me to do things I would not normally do.

BDH and I just completed a 100 Day Challenge in mid-December. That meant that we had to do at least 30 minutes of physical activity (a.k.a. “exercise”) every day for 100 days. It was a good challenge, because we both pushed each other to keep going.

Guilt is a great motivator — it’s hard to slack off when you know the other person is doing something or has already completed their exercise. PLUS we blogged about it every day, so Teh Entire Interwebs were there watching us, man.

So we had to do it.

We were really proud of ourselves for making it through. 100 days straight is a LOT of continuous exercise when you are unaccustomed to it. When you are young, sure; but then when you get older and get jobs/make life choices that make you more sedentary, it’s hard. Your body aches, and there are no rest days. You’re tired. And life gets in the way and makes it hard to fit in exercise sometimes.

So, with a new year just around the corner, I am thinking of what it will bring. Usually I make some resolutions, or goals, or plans.

And then I start out full tilt and, shortly thereafter, fail spectacularly.

But this year, I am looking for a challenge. I can do that. I know that if I am accountable, pride gets in the way and stops me when I want to slack off. People are watching! Do something! Don’t be a slack bastard!

So the question has been, what am I going to do? And it’s been hard to come up with something.

I want to do another exercise challenge. I am just not sure what, yet. 100 days straight was hard, so it’s not going to be that again. At least, I don’t think so. But BDH and I both need to push each other to get back to regular exercise, and something more aerobic more often, too. So definitely, I have to think about that one. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

But there is another challenge I am going to do: Project 365.

Somewhere out there on Teh Intartubes, someone came up with the idea of taking a picture every day for a year and posting it. It was a great way to document a year in pictures, and it caught on, and soon, a number of people took it on as their personal project. Now, there are all kinds of people doing “Project 365″s all over the place.

And so am I.

Now, people do all kinds of projects. Photography. Scrapbooking. Blog posts. One woman even cooked a meal in her crock pot every day. (Ugh. That seems a bit much for me. But then, she made it into a cookbook and it was a bestseller and she’s probably making a shit-ton of cash so, hey, the joke’s on ME.) But me? I’m sticking to the original concept of a photo a day.

One photo per day, posted every day for 365 days.

Now, I am hoping this challenge will do a few things for me:

• I want to get better at taking pictures. Currently, I just point and shoot — and shoot, and shoot, and shoot. And I hope I get something good. As a professional sports photographer once referred to it, I “spray and pray”. So I want to learn to do more than just that. I want to use this as an opportunity to get better at using our camera, and learn about the various settings and options and maybe even pick up some more technical aspects of photography. I’d like to develop a better eye, and learn to use light better, and learn about composition. But mostly, I just want to take better pictures.

• I want to get better at taking different pictures. Currently I take pictures of Stinkerbelle. Maybe the cats sometimes. But I want to take this opportunity to see if I can take interesting pictures of subjects that are not two years old and dancing by me. Not that I will stop taking pictures of That Baby, you understand… but I will try to do other things, too.

• I want to use this as an opportunity to learn to use my photo editing software. I have two that I like and I can do the basics, but I really want to try to play with some of the finer tools and techniques and learn things.

Getting back to point #2 for a minute, this challenge will actually be two-fold. Yes, I want to have a picture of each day. But I also want to have a picture of That Baby for each day of the year. So at the end of the year, I will have documented a year in the life of my daughter.

So, it might be that I take more than one picture per day. But there will have to be at least one.

I am not sure how and where I will post the pictures. Maybe here, maybe not. I’ll think about it and see. (Obviously any pictures I post of Stinkerbelle will be password-protected — having met people who know of what kinds of evil troll the internets in search of photos of children, I’m even more firmly on the password protection team, thankyouverymuch. Same password rules will apply.)

So there you have it. No new year’s resolutions this year. I am facing the new year with a challenge — or two.

Anyone care to join me?

We’re back. Sort of.

After a bunch of things burned out/shorted out/arsed up on the Frankencomputer we lovingly call “Fred”, we lost contact with the mother ship and we were gone from Teh Intertubes for a week or so. But, as one is compelled to do when one has no money, BDH got out the bits of wire and duct tape and scraps of an old bandanna and some dental floss and MacGyver-ed our server back to life again.

So now we have email and blogs again. For how long? Who can say?

Life on the edge, we live it, man.

Today has been feeling like a day where I should have just stayed in bed, snuggled under the duvet with the cats and some shows on my laptop and my knitting.

(Although I did get to sleep in, courtesy of BDH, so that was WAY nice.)

It’s cold and dreary out, and I had to run around getting groceries this morning — studiously avoiding THAT STORE — which was fine, but where in the hell did all the people come from? The grocery stores were crowded and busy, and there was a lot of traffic on the roads. And why are the kids not in school? Is it a holiday? Why didn’t somebody tell me?

I spent way too much money for the measly bins of groceries I ended up with. Milk, vitamins, meat… big ticket items. Le sigh. I meant to go light on the spending today, what with Christmas looming big on our Visa card. Oh well.

I got home to find that our daughter’s name change paperwork was sent back AGAIN. This time, they say our vet, who was our guarantor on all our travel/passport documents and consequently on this as well, and who has known us for 15 years, is not valid. They indicate that they need a “legally qualified medical practitioner”, which she IS… Gah. How I HATE those bastards in Thunder Bay. She’s apparently okay as a guarantor on my passport, but not to do a simple name change? NICE. Get your shit together, government. AND every time they send this stuff back, we have to pay AGAIN to send it BACK to them.

I HATE THEM.

So that’s been bugging.

Plus, with the holidays coming around, there’s always the inevitable discussions and considerations around what to do about my estranged family. It’s a question that we toss around and around and around. It’s never a fun thing to think about; it just serves to get us stirred up and angry and resentful. So as we drove around in the car today, I was talking about it with Stinkerbelle. Not that she has much to say about the matter, but it’s nice to have a sympathetic ear. She’s a good listener. Also, now that she is in the car with me all the time, I can talk and it doesn’t look like I am just a sad case who drives around and talks to herself. Another bonus to having kids!

And then there’s just the everyday hassles of preparing for Christmas. We’re a few weeks out, so we really have to get some things done. Cleaning, organizing, making lists, checking them twice (no, THAT part is all done!)… there IS a lot to get done. And I am really NOT in the mood, but I think this year, we may have to break the traditional rule and start trying to get decorating and festive BEFORE my birthday. I don’t much give a fiddler’s fart for my birthday anymore anyway, since there’s someone else in the house now for whom festivities are FAR more important. But we DO have to get started.

And to top things off, That Baby has NOT been going to bed well this week, or waking at odd hours. I have been alone much of the evenings this week due to BDH’s soccer schedule, which would be fine EXCEPT for those times when it takes 2 hours to get That Baby to go to sleep and there’s much crying and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Or when she wakes at 5 am. I wish she could just tell us what the problem is — are you teething? growing pains? gas? all of the above? — because then we could fix it, and I could have a quiet evening to myself that does not involve the sound of screaming baby through a monitor or trucking up and down the stairs to see what is the matter.

So this week we are tired and cranky. All of us.

So, yeah. Not a banner day, mood-wise. It really IS the House of Peevish around here. And if That Baby is fussing at bedtime again tonight, it’s going to be a full house.

Change is not easy for a lot of people.

For me, it depends. Some sorts of change are good — like, say, parenthood. Others? Not so much. Today, for instance, I ran smack dab into change that frankly, I am not so good with.

I, like most people, have issues with the dentist. I had very bad dental experiences as a child, which not only gave me a great terror of dental needles, but also led me to stop going to the dentist altogether for a good 5 years as a teenager. This concerned my father, as it would any parent. So he consulted his dentist about what to do. His dentist said, “You tell her to come here. Tell her that I promise her that there will be NO needles, and that it WON’T hurt.”

I was skeptical. My father said, “He promised.”

So I tried it. And the dentist was as good as his word: there were no needles, and it did not hurt. In fact, he kept his promises for a good 10 years at least, until one day he finally brought in a needle and said to me with a wink, “Oh, I think you’re old enough to handle it.” But beyond that, he really kept his promises.

And then he wanted to retire. So he started working part time, and brought on two young, ambitious dentists. They were awesome, and the transition was gradual. I slowly stopped seeing my old dentist, and began seeing these new dentists.

They understood my file, and they respected my fears, and they were really cool to work with. One dentist shared my love of alternative music — what’s not to love about a dentist with a mohawk and piercings? The other, my main dentist, was a woman my age going through relationship and work and fertility issues just like me. So we often had a lot to talk about.

They also brought in great staff. And when you didn’t work well with one hygenist, they’d switch you to another until you found someone you worked well with. And since I have to go every 3 months, this was especially important, since I primarily see the hygenist.

So this week, I got a reminder call about my appointment, which was this morning. The message was a typical reminder, except it said: Oh by the way, your hygenist C has moved to Ottawa, so you will be seeing S tomorrow.

Wha…?

This was bad news. I was nervous all night. I loved C. I had her for a few years, and she and I really hit it off. She knew how to work on my problem teeth and gums, and I didn’t dread going to the dentist anymore. And now, this was going to change?

But I sucked it up and thought, okay, there’s nothing I can do about it, and they’ll move me around if it doesn’t work, right? So I figured I’d give it a go.

I got to the dentist this morning, and was ushered in by someone I didn’t know but assumed was S. Turns out, it wasn’t. She was a tech who was going to take my x-rays. Okay.

I finally met S, who ushered me to a chair in the back. She seemed nice, although right off she didn’t make me feel as confident in her skill as I always did with C, (by virtue of mentioning SCURVY – !!!) but I figured maybe she’d be good with the tools. So I thought I’d be patient and see.

And that is when she said: Oh BTW, Dr. V has sold the practice. He was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in June and decided he couldn’t carry on.

Whaaaa…?

I was dumbfounded. No Dr. V?? No more alternative music in the office?? But hey, the guy’s having a health crisis, stop thinking about yourself, woman. I was shocked, but I thought, oh well, at least Dr. J is still here, and she’s my main dentist anyway.

And that’s when the hygenist said: Oh BTW, Dr. J has quit and has gone into practice with her husband.

WHAAAAA…?

W? T? F?

If I had not been sitting down, I would have needed to sit down.

This was a LOT of change. And change of this sort, involving my entire dental practice, is BAD. VERY, VERY BAD.

I was in shock. But it was time for the cleaning.

She was no C, I can tell you that. She was a little rough, and not nearly, NEARLY as thorough as C, either.

I was really starting to stress.

But we finished up, and I met the new dentist. He seems very nice.

Nice does not mean good, nor does it mean no pain. I am still angsty about the whole thing.

So I drove home in a bit of shock. I mean, it has been over 20 years. After all it took to get me there, I got comfortable and trusted the staff and was actually unafraid to go to the dentist. I actually found cleaning appointments to be relaxing. I have even been known to have the odd needle without freaking completely the hell out, mostly with C there holding my hand through it, but STILL.

And now, everything is gone. My comfort zone has been COMPLETELY eradicated. So I don’t know what I will do.

But I am not afraid to say, when it comes to my dentistry? Change is BAD.

A conversation earlier today:

CinnamonOpus says: By the way, YOUR DAUGHTER is walking around wearing her pants like a bib and saying “Bib!”
Big Damn Hero says: LOL that’s my girl!
CinnamonOpus says: She has her chin clamped to her chest and her pants tucked in there and she’s walking around saying “Bib! Bib! Bib!” and laughing. While alternately clubbing me with that computer cushion table thingy. And farting.
Big Damn Hero says: Wow, are we sure she is not my biological child?
CinnamonOpus says: I know!

So, around here, the task of bathing That Baby falls to whoever is available. Often times it is BDH, because I have had a bad back and shoulder these past few months.

We have gotten some tub toys for That Baby to help with bathtime — specifically, floating alphabet letters. Two sets, actually, so that we have two of each letter and can spell more. BDH likes to spell with That Baby. He will pick out letters and stick them to the side of the tub, teaching Stinkerbelle her name or other simple words like “cat” or “baby”. And then, when bathtime is done, the letters are tossed into their tubside caddy until next time.

So, imagine my surprise to come into the bathroom one morning, and look over at the tub wall to see, in bright multicoloured letters:

UHOH

MR BOB        MAGIC

I do not know what it means.

I’m kind of intrigued. Also? A little scared.

I imagine this is how the archaeologists who discovered those prehistoric cave paintings in France felt. Or maybe the people who tried to decipher the Rosetta Stone.

GAH. We are SO over this cold thing already.

I am totally ready to break up with this cold. “Yeah, cold? Yeah, I think we should stop seeing each other. No, it’s not me, it’s YOU.”

Stinkerbelle has had a rough go the past few days. She’s had a fever since, what, Thursday or Friday? She’s had her first cough and chest cold, which means that she’s learning to cough, essentially… so, choking and gagging a lot of the time (yesterday, enough to throw up her breakfast all over herself). And she’s been coughing all night long all weekend, which means nobody around here has gotten much sleep.

Today is the first day since last week that we’ve seen glimmers of her little Miss Firecracker self. And even still, she’s tired.

Needless to say, we’re staying in today, probably tomorrow too. She won’t be going to swimming lessons tomorrow.

And luckily (or unluckily, depending on perspective), she’s in to the doctor on Wednesday for her 18 month MMR and vaccination — and hopefully a flu shot and H1N1 too. But we’ll have to see on that. I’m guessing they won’t want to give her 57 shots in one go. But even if they schedule her flu/H1N1 shots for another day, I’ll be happy, because that’s one less thing we’ll have to worry about. And they can check on her and make sure that she’s getting over this cold just fine.

And neither BDH nor I have felt much like ourselves. Chest colds wreak havoc on me, with my asthma, and I’ve been sneezing my brains out. (I have a big, hearty sneeze. No dainty sneezes or little girly multi-sneezing for me. Oh no. If I am going to sneeze, then I am GOING FOR IT, man.) BDH has a cough powerful enough to blow the windows out, or at the very least hurt your eardrums. And we’re both pooped right out.

(Still exercising, though, for those of you following along with our 100 Day Challenge. Day 57 today! Woot!)

So yeah. TOTALLY ready to be done with this cold.

There’s a lot I have to catch up on. Housework, groceries, bills to be paid, and other stuff around the house wait to be done. I have to get caught up on cooking and baking and planning our meals. There are some play dates to be planned. I have to start planning my Christmas baking. I have to get to the post office.

Also, I have to get caught up on my quilt posts. I have to tell you all about some gorgeous fabrics and wishes that have come in: first, from Dianne and Chris and the legendary Hana of song and story, and also from the lovely and talented Alana. So I will have to get my camera out and get some pictures taken. And I have to update my quilt page, which (since doing some server changes months back) is a bit of a tedious process, but has to get done.

But none of that will get done today. Possibly not even tomorrow.

For today, there is a little girl with a not very friendly cough, a very runny nose and a hint of a fever who still needs love and cuddles. And a whole lot of nose wiping. And if that means we sit and snuggle under a blanket in front of her very favourite videos, well that is just fine by me.

We’re SO over this cold already. But, if I am honest, there’s a little part of me that kinda loves that Little Miss Busy and Independent needs me.

It’s that time of year again. Time for Teh Sick to visit out house.

BDH is a diabetic, so when I say he’s sicker than any 10 people I know, usually it’s not an exaggeration. He gets sick more frequently than others, and is more susceptible to whatever is going around. And what he gets, lasts WAAAAY longer than it should. But that generally means that what he’s got I usually DON’T, since I’m pretty much as healthy as a horse most of the time.

But then, BDH got on some new meds earlier this year and his diabetes became much more under control. And presto! change-o! He didn’t get sick as often. And what he got didn’t last. It was great!

Until the first rumblings of Teh Cold began, which eventually took up residence in his chestal region on the weekend.

Now me, I have been on this 100 Day Challenge fitnessy thing. And that means I am exercising and running and walking and yoga-ing like a fiend. I am FIT! I am STRONG!

I am also TIRED!

And so, consequently, now I am SICK!

Bah.

Oh well. It happens. It’s a cold.

But is anybody else just a TEENSY TINY WEE BIT PARANOID about the whole H1N1 thing? I mean, just a LEETLE bit? And not just for me because, hey, I had the Sydney A flu when it was going around back in ‘97 or something and that? Was the sickest I have EVER been. So I figure something that hasn’t even got a PROPER NAME isn’t going to outdo THAT ONE. So whatevs.

But Stinkerbelle? For her, I worry.

She is little. And so I worry. If anything were to happen to her, I would curl up and die. So although I know the chances of picking up this latest bad boy are pretty small, I still worry. You can’t avoid it.

And I am going to watch her like a HAWK as this cold inevitably gets passed on to her. And every other sniffle and complaint until the season is done.

Okay. I have had enough.

This rain has GOT to STOP. It’s depressing. It has rained so much over the summer and fall that I am beginning to get a little mouldy. My fingers are getting pruney. I could not get my garden to grow, and now that the season’s done, I can’t get out and clean up the mess that should have been my garden.

And, worst of all, it’s breaking my little girl’s heart.

Yesterday, we had to do some running around, getting groceries. It was nice and warm when we left, and the rain that was forecast was nowhere in sight. It looked like it might be a day where we could spend some time outside. As I walked my daughter to the car after returning our grocery cart, and picked her up to load her into her car seat, she began to cry, a plaintive wail at being cooped up once again. She LOVES outside. So I thought maybe after naptime and lunch we could do something.

The afternoon rolled around and lunch was done. I looked outside to check the weather, and see if I could take That Baby out to run off some energy. The rain was holding off, so I promised Stinkerbelle I would take her outside to play.  So I took her upstairs and changed her diaper and put some jeans on her, got her dressed in socks and shoes and a warm hoodie, and got myself suitably dressed. We stepped outside onto the porch… and it began to drizzle. And drizzle. And drizzle some more.

And it had gotten cold. Too cold, what with the damp, to let her play on the porch. So I took her back inside.

And she cried. Not the wailing, phoney-baloney cry of protest and anger we normally get when her plans are thwarted. No, not this time. She cried with that look of utter devastation on her face. Complete disappointment. She had been SO looking forward to playing outside and running around. She loves it so much. And I had broken her tiny trust.

I was the worst mommy in the world. I felt so bad.

So for the remainder of the day, I let her keep her shoes on, in case the rain let up and we could dash out for a bit of a walk. We were not so lucky.

Me, I don’t mind being inside. The wind is blowing and it is cold and damp out there, and I would much rather stay in with a warm bevvie and some knitting.

But Stinkerbelle… She is bored. And at her age, there’s only so much you can do to amuse her, because she still has the attention span of a soap dish. We haven’t got friends or other kids to go visit. I haven’t really done much in the way of researching other “drop in” types of entertainment in town (although I will have to get on that). And I hate parking her in front of a DVD.

So if the rain could stop, that would be really great. Because while it’s raining and pouring, the old man may be snoring, but That Baby is crying real tears of disappointment. And it’s making her mommy sad too.