Lucas has been sick all week and still is sick. Today we took him to the urgent-care doctor, who determined he has a lung infection and asthma because of it. We now have medicines to treat both. And now Asher has a fever, too.

On Thursday night, after the fourth solid day of fever, I got creative. More about that in a minute. 

There is a whole school of Athroposophical medicine, of which I am largely ignorant. I know a couple of key points, however, and have an uneasy relationship to them. One key point is the idea that fever is one of the body’s main ways of purging itself of unwanted substances, i.e. viruses and bacteria. People who subscribe to this theory recommend not suppressing a fever with drugs, but say we should instead simply provide supportive care and allow the fever to run its course. The supportive care stuff is somewhat familiar (and seems natural/reasonable to me), and somewhat alien. Lemon leg compresses are not the stuff I was raised on.

Over the course of the past week, Ian and I have waffled a bit. Sometimes we gave Lucas ibuprofen to suppress his fever so he could feel better. When his eyes get glassy and he stops moving and talking, I begin to worry. Whenever we dosed him, he felt much better and was able to play and be more himself (still sick, but more himself). When he wasn’t that hot, we let him be in the hopes that he’d rest and get rid of the bug. Now I kind of wonder if dosing him may have prolonged the sickness, given that he was far more active with the ibuprofen in his system. Perhaps he overtaxed his impaired body during those times.

I am so not a doctor, and often have a hard time separating the health info/advice I have stored in my noggin into appropriate True, False, or Complete Bullshit categories.

Anyway … In an effort to distract him and keep him still, I made him a needle-felted Fever Fairy. (Yes, I made her. With. My. Hands. You may rightly gasp with amazement now.) So. A Fever Fairy. She is adorned in fiery colors and is made entirely of wool roving (with a single pipe-cleaner inside for structure). I named her Scarlett (OK, that part wasn’t very creative) and gave her to Lucas, telling him that Fever Fairies are special friends who visit children who are sick and feverish. 

The job of a Fever Fairy is to keep sick children company and to whisper soothing things to them. Fever Fairies stay by their side as long as the children are sick, then disappear. But whenever a child needs a rest and some quiet time, he may call to his Fever Fairy and she will come to him and whisper soothing words and cuddle him.  



I told Lucas a story about a sick little boy and Scarlett, the Fever Fairy. Every time the boy became sick while he was growing up, Scarlett came to him and kept him company. She reminded him of all the cooling things in the world, like the sweet taste of ice-cold water, the many flavors of ice-cream, swimming in summertime, the feeling of snowflakes falling on his cheek and raindrops on his skin. She told him he would get well and feel better soon and that she loved him very much. Scarlett came to him when he was a boy, and a teenager, and a grown-up man, and even an old man—whenever he was sick. And each time she visited, the boy always felt better. Her sweet words helped his fever come down. They were forever friends.

Lucas has slept with Scarlett since then and held her while resting on the couch. I don’t know if this is an original idea or not, but I’ve never heard about anyone else doing it. Either way, his Fever Fairy has distracted him a little. And for that, I’m grateful. 

 

And now, we’re off to do some face-painting. He wants a teddy bear on his cheek.

This Easter was really great. I especially enjoyed the buildup to it because we did a number of crafty things that turned out beautifully. 

I’ve always loved dying Easter eggs—for my whole life it’s been one of the things that signifies Spring to me in a very concrete way, even when Easter arrives rainy and grey. This year, I decided it would be fun to dye our eggs naturally—meaning no Paws dye kits, no food coloring and vinegar concoctions. This time, we used kitchen and yard ingredients only.

* Turmeric for yellow
* Beet juice for pink
* Blueberry juice for lavender
* Red cabbage for blue
* Birch leaves/grass and assorted kitchen veggies for green
* Coffee for brown
* Onion skin juice for peachy orange 
* Vinegar

It was significantly more expensive dying the 18 eggs this way, and it took probably four times longer than a kit would have taken. But it was easily four times more fun! And we spend less than … probably $9.

Getting a good-looking green solution took a lot of work and time, and surprisingly, it did not color the eggs at all. I also assumed that coffee would easily stain the egg brown, but it didn’t. (That may be because I used the used coffee grounds instead of fresh coffee. I suddenly became frugal when it came time to use the coffee. Can you see my vices?) 

We called it “Kitchen Science” while we were doing this, and stressed to Lucas that it was all a big eggsperiment. We didn’t know how well it would work, whether we’d get nice colors, or if it would fail completely. A la “Myth Busters” we said, “Failure is always an option.” 

But if you care to scroll down to the end, you’ll see that our eggsperiment was a great success! We got lovely eggs in soft, earthy shades. They weren’t pale, as I expected. And as they aged overnight and over Easter day, they sort of changed colors, which was unexpected. Some got darker, some paler. Perhaps they oxidized? We wonder if the beet-colored pink eggs turned brownish because of iron in the juice. And weirdest of all, the blueberry-dyed, dark lavender eggs became a mottled lavender-and-orange before Easter was done. They were really cool!

At one point, when it became clear that we wouldn’t have any green eggs, I contemplated cheating and pulling out the food dye. But Ian convinced me not to, reminding me how cool it would be to have a basketful of plant-dyed eggs, and how not cool it would be to have almost all plant-dyed eggs and the green ones we cheated for. So we finished it as originally intended, and they were gorgeous!

That’s probably the longest story about eggs you’ve ever read.

It has been snowing steadily for days. In the almost-week that we’ve been here, I think we’ve received at least three feet of snow. It is both inspiring and challenging. Somehow the snowy landscape makes me feel contemplative. And hungry, but whatever.Our lovely friends kittiliscious, her man J, and mrplanet4 left this morning to make their way home. Ian and I have decided that it will be better for all of us if we take an extra day to wait out this big storm and not try to transport two bored little boys over the summit and home again while fighting weather and traffic the whole time. I’m happy with 2-hour drives home; I’m not at all crazy about 4-hour drives. I keep staring out the window and marveling at how ethereal the woods look. The light is bluish and it makes the evergreens look nearly black. Both the sky and the ground are the same brilliant white. Heavy pillows of snow burden every limb and branch. The palette is completely monochromatic. The road is invisible, despite the snowplow’s several daily visits. Two-foot icicles hang from the eaves; their shape is spiraled, like unicorn horns. Inside we are snug and warm. Our kitchen is well-stocked with food, so we could easily stay another several days if we needed to. We have everything to make our stay comfortable, including a clothes washer and dryer and dishwasher. We just ran out of vodka, however.  We have passed many happy hours this week playing in the snow, taking walks or “trudges,” playing games, drawing, sewing, creating toys, and reading. Lucas was thrilled to have our friends join us, for they provided a patient (sometimes eager) audience for him. He strove to impress them with his skills, his expertise, his humor, and his antics. I am amazed at his ability to interact with adults. He can be suave: “Kat, you could come and sit beside me, if you want.” He can be charming: “Justin, that was so fun riding on the saucer yesterday. It was awesome! Do you want to pull me along like that now?” He can act so grown up: “Don’t disturb me right now. I’m doing important homework and I can’t be disturbed.” Asher was nervous when we first arrived, but has settled into these surroundings beautifully. I was very happy that he hasn’t been especially attracted to the gas stove in the middle of the main room as it’s been on almost constantly and it’s very hot. It took him several days, but yesterday he realized that he was capable of climbing the stairs all the way to the top floor where we’ve all been sleeping. He was so proud of himself when he reached the top landing, he clapped for himself and squealed. Since then, he’s done it a bunch of times, and I wonder what it must be like to crawl up stairs like that: What if I encountered a staircase like this in the same scale? Would I want to climb it over and over again? Every new accomplishment delights him. He is learning at every moment. Asher is not walking yet, but is beginning to “creep” along while leaning on the furniture. He is fascinated with the snow that he can see outside, but is not too keen on touching it. He despises his snowsuit, but seems to like the snowflakes falling on his face.  Today when we went out to play, Asher seemed to be more comfortable in the snow, sitting in it and batting at it. There’s so much powder I can easily imaging putting him down and losing him in a drift. We have our Ergo carrier with us; obviously a stroller is pretty much useless. But man, with all the snow gear on us and on Asher, he’s really hard to lug around. For a brief time we were able to put Lucas on a saucer and Asher on Lucas and tow them along the road. We received a few dazzling smiles from both of them as a reward for our effort. Lucas is very brave, even when he slips and falls on the ice. He enjoys saucering a lot. It’s clear that his smaller body must work harder to plow through the snow drifts. He presses on because he wants to squeeze as much fun out of the experience as possible. His face glows with melted snowflakes and rosy cheeks. But when he tires, emotions run high and he demands hot cocoa. I am so happy that we can spend time in this glorious landscape and give him this experience.  

Work at the magazine this week went well. I was brave and gracious. I talked to all my (ex-) coworkers about the changes at the magazine and my services as proofreader being discontinued. At least to my face everyone was sorry about it and regretful. The editor promises me that I’m the one they’ll call back when the economics are better. She referred to having me working on the magazine a “luxury.” Probably what will happen is that the in-house people will be asked to work more and harder. An editorial employee who is my friend also got cut: She still has a job, but they demoted her to receptionist (and canned the receptionist they had) and cut my friend’s pay. A few other people in different departments were affected (i.e., let go). They have also cut their freelance budget by what sounds to me like a big number, but given that I have no idea what the budget was or what it is now, it’s hard for me to say.

So, we’ll see. I guess they gotta do what they gotta do to stay healthy and weather the economic changes in the region. I must say though, it’s kind of ironic (correct word choice?) that I consistently read about all the wonderful, progressive, exciting things that are happening in this town in the pages of this magazine, which is presently reacting to an economic downturn. Anyway, Monday will be my last day there.

I’ve come to find the silver lining in this change: It’s kinda hard on Asher to have me leave him with a sitter or grandma for 3 to 4 days in a row, when the rest of the month he’s with me constantly. He has survived, of course, but by Friday evening, it was clear that he wanted and needed some mama time. Now I won’t have to do that anymore. I will still need babysitting, but I can arrange it on my own terms and hopefully establish a more consistent rhythm for him—one that he can actually get used to—that doesn’t have 27 days between sets of sitter days. As he is coming into The Great Separation Anxiety Stage, this will be easier on him.

Last Thursday, my father turned 62. That is hard to believe. In my mind, he is still 40. He probably will always be that age in my mind. A friend recently lost her father to cancer. He was older than my dad is—a doctor who practiced medicine up until his end. I can see how hard losing her last parent has been on her. Her plight has inspired some morbid thoughts.

I am thoroughly enjoying the drawing classes that Ian and I are taking on Thursday nights. The teacher is teaching in a loose, intuitive way, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. But the true gift of the class is that we 1) leave our home and kids and assorted real-life distractions, 2) go to a studio/gallery where we are surrounded by art and things to draw, and 3) there are two and a half glorious hours with nothing else to do except drink tea. We are hoping to continue the classes for the next couple of months, or for as long as our babysitters are willing to watch our kidlings. Ian has really caught the bug. He’s been practicing at home, which is wonderful to see because while he’s drawing, he’s not worrying. I love this guy so much. I hate to see him worried. It has been very good for us to have this time together and share this artistic pursuit. I can’t wait to paint!

My brother and his girlfriend, Courtney, recently got back from a vacation in Mexico. It sounds like they had a super time. I think this is Jonathan’s first serious vacation in years. I’m happy for them both. I just love seeing them together and it is my sincerest hope that they continue to make each other happy.

We spent a lovely couple of hours with friends last night. It was refreshing and made me so happy to see them.

Asher’s party yesterday was great! I think everyone had a pretty good time, considering there was no pole or booze and my great granny, great aunt, mom, and dad were all there chaperoning.  Actually, I kinda meant to serve champagne, but then I forgot. About 26 people were here, I think, which is a helluva tribute to a little person who can’t even talk yet. Thank you to everyone who took time out of your busy lives to witness the anniversary of my little man and our survival of Kid Two: Year One. It means a lot to me that our community loves our sons. Thank you!

The food we served worked out pretty well, I thought. The punch was a hit with the kiddos. I tried to get all Martha on the birthday cake, which kinda sorta worked out, but kinda sorta failed. I guess it depends on how you look at it. I baked an Apple Hill cake and sprinkled it with powdered sugar. But not before I placed atop the cake paper twigs and leaves that Lucas and I cut out. Then we powdered it, so we had a negative image of the branches when we took the paper off. I decorated the branches with marzipan flowers that I made myself. This is the funny part: It took me three tries to create decent flowers. They caught fire when I went to brown them in the oven on the first try. The wax paper the flowers were sitting on was too close to the broiler, so actually it was the paper that burned. On the second try, I let Lucas distract me in conversation for exactly one minute and the flowers burned again. The third try worked OK, and they went on the cake. Lucas and I had decorated a special beeswax candle with modeling beeswax: It had a yellow star and a little toddler boy holding a single, giant flower. Lucas painstaikingly molded each flower petal for the candle.

Asher was completely distraught when we tried to feed him birthday cake. The vanilla ice cream made him cry. Poor baby, it was a very stimulating day and he didn’t seem to like it much when everyone’s attention turned toward him.

I only took a handful of photos, but I think my dad took some. Also, Tate and Elisa arrived and took some family shots of us, which I am excited to see.

We have a ton of thank you cards to write. Asher received plenty of gifts: some of which will go and live at the grandparents’ houses for when he spends time over there. That’s just fine with me. Some clothes will go into the closet until he grows into them, as will at least one toy rated for 3-year-olds. 

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Originally uploaded by SarabellaE

My mother made Asher a gorgeous batik quilt. She let me choose the design and the colors/fabrics. It looks fantastic in his room next to my mural.

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Originally uploaded by SarabellaE

On Flickr there are a number of photos with descriptions of gifts that Lucas gave to me, Ian, and Asher for Christmas. They are all things he worked on with his own hands. This photo shows a Lucas original design: Cup Cozies!

Tonight Ian and I are taking our first art class together: basic drawing. We are both very excited about it for two reasons. We get to make art, which we so rarely get to do, and learn new things. And we get to do it together without our kids along. It is a little bit of just-us time that we haven’t had in so long. We used to do things like this together before our children came along (fencing, jiu-jitsu, workouts at the gym, watercolor painting, etc.). It’s almost like a date! 

We have lovely new art supplies in a neat little box. Two of each item. 

I hope the class is cool because we’re signed up for four nights of drawing and the school has many more classes that all sound very interesting, including watercolor painting, pastels, and oil painting, which is something I’ve never done before. 

My dearest hope is that this experience will unlock and clear some of the stuffiness and frustration we sometimes experience in our daily work/family grind, and bring some more flow (of ideas, movement, creativity, romance) into our relationship. I feel giddy.