It Ain't the Tree....

So, the blotchie skin, cough, red, red cheeks and chin, and the nearly constant itching isn't caused by Christmas Tree mold as suggested by and finally tested at the allergy center. It's the cat. In fact, the only reason Bug doesn't go into anaphylactic shock with the cat is because he isn't eating a spoonful of dander. Rather, when he sits on her favorite couch (see above pic), the small pouf of dander makes him quite ill, but not ill enough for the ER.

We can keep the cat only if he's on a regimen of five drugs per day. My Ninety-hmm-hmmm year old grandmother takes one pill a day. It's just not right on many counts. So, sweetest Auntie Mae and Uncle B and their pets have decided to widen the fold plus one.

Belly kitty has been with us since we were married. She's tolerated four moves across country and two young children. I know she'll do fine. I'm the only one that's just really bummed. Thankful for my sister, but bummed about not having something particularly fuzzy in my life. What an odd combination. My sister and her hubby rock.

Surprise

The most surprising thing that happened this week isn't that G can now hold cereal in a sweet little pincer's grasp.

And it wasn't all the great gifts that we're all thankful for...

And it's not even the discovery that G knows that her food is different than our food and is NOT content at meal time until she's got some of the real stuff to play with ALL BY HERSELF.

It's that Bug and G are still here. I've specialized in kids 0-3 years for awhile. Normally, children under my care, when they turn three, they go off. They go off to a different audiologist, or school, or therapist or whatever...But Bug is mine! He's still here! We're looking at preschools, but there isn't any big transition or huge meeting discussing his educational path. It's just us. We eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. We go to the park, dig in the frozen earth in the backyard, wipe our mouths on each other's clothes and pretend we are baby gorillas. Bug also gallops. Everywhere. All the time. Except when stairs are involved.

You Say It's Your Birthday...

Bug celebrated his third year on this earth with a lovely visit from the Philpott Grandparents and the Sullivan Godparents. We had a great time.

G was a little reticent at first, but warmed up to the thought of more attentive adults ready to snuggle the night away.

Bug, as usual, dressed up somebody so that the real playtime could begin. Hurrah! Hurrah!

Things that Make G Happy

Her toes. Her brother. Her toes. Sitting up all by herself. Her toes. Her feet. Her toes.Her socks. Her toes. Waking up from a nap. Her toes.

Cool Customer

I'm reading a "Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion. When she arrives at the hospital after her husband has died from a heart attack unbeknownst to her, the social worker says to the doctor, "You can tell her. She's one cool customer." I have a flat affect too in crisis situations. I've enough first aid training, enough medically complicated kids under my care in therapy, and just enough knowledge of the human body to get me through acute, tough moments. I'm the gal you want when your kid has a seizure at the park, when your child stops breathing because she's stressed out, when your husband collapses in the parking lot. I just kick into this quiet, "What next?" kind of attitude that gets things done when others don't know what to do. I'm the perfect person to have a kid who can't leave the house without an epipen.

This weekend we baptized Baby G and even though our conservative and liberal friends alike really don't understand my relationship with God. I do. And I'm quite confident of it. Yet despite my assuredness, I found myself taken aback at G's baptism. Regardless of my faith, I found that I needed time to reflect on G, just her and only her and not while I'm in the middle of childbirth, and not while I'm managing a 3 year old and not when I'm answering the phone while paying bills while making a vegan dinner while worrying about M's flight home while drying laundry that I'm sure not to put away.

I needed that quiet moment to catch my breath and let it be captured by the winter sun streaming through the windows. Remember her gestation and birth and all the bits I know of her young self and to welcome her. Truly welcome her into my life. I cried. I did. I was not a cool customer no matter how hard I tried. I didn't wail and I think only Miss B and M knew I was a little teary. But I wasn't cool. There is nothing cool or calm about a brand new person in your life. Absolutely nothing.