It’s been a hell of a Spring Break and I, for one, am glad it’s OVER! 

It’s Friday night and I’m sitting here in the dark with my vodka and 7, while Ian suffers in the other room: On top of cold symptoms that he’s worked through all week, he appears now to have eaten some bad sushi.

Asher is still sick. He alternates between feeling reasonably chipper and totally lame. His nose is sometimes so congested it’s hard for him to breastfeed. Suck, suck, detach, breathe. Suck, suck, detach, breathe. Suck, suck, detach, breathe. It’s pathetic. He’s now whining a lot of the time, not crying, just complaining. I don’t blame him, but there is so little I can do to make him comfortable: menthol rub on his chest, hot showers to clear out the boogers, milk when he wants it, a sleeping companion, being held a lot. That’s about it.

Lucas is doing better. The antibiotics do the trick. I hate the idea that we’re wiping out all the beneficial flora in his system by giving him this medicine, but lung infections suck worse. Maybe. He’s got 6 more days of meds to take, but he’ll be back to school on Monday. (Otherwise, I may just end up in prison.) Fortunately, my son is mature enough to take his medicine without argument or fuss.

In 12 days, I have left the house only a few times and then only for a brief while. My nerves are completely frayed. Today I yelled at Asher because he wouldn’t sleep. Yeah, that’s stupid. I know. He would go to sleep, rest for 10 minutes and pop awake again. He did that three times. He only really took a proper nap when I calmed down and resolved myself to staying with him instead of working. 

I have work to do and can’t manage to do it. I have my first project to edit in a whole new software program. At the moment, I’m not sure how to do it, only that I’ve committed to doing it. 

Yesterday evening I split, engaged in some retail therapy, and (Thank God) dropped in on some friends who were kind enough to convince me that 9 p.m. was not too late. It was a dark moment when I was sitting in my car in front of Barnes & Noble thinking I had no friends and nothing to do and nowhere to go. Thanks, darlings. I really needed to sit in your kitchen and bitch for a while. 

In a (perhaps belated) effort to stay positive and be Zen about all this, here are some highlights from the last two weeks. There were some fun and/or funny moments, in between the SERENITY NOW! moments.

El Torrito Cilantro Pepita Caesar salad dressing. Lucas has been practicing pouring.

We took a walk at Negro Bar along the American River on March 26. Here are a few pics from that brief outing. It took Lucas only .5 seconds to get covered in wet mud.

It was a beautiful afternoon.

This was before we got sick. I like knowing how to take time-delayed shots! The camera is balanced on the stroller.

This is a cupboard in Lucas’s bedroom. Asher has taken to hiding his pacifiers in this cupboard. Now every time Asher enters Lucas’s room, he makes a beeline for this cupboard to check his stash.

My tulips are blooming and they’re fabulous.

I planted a multipack of pansies in the flowerbed by my front door a few weeks ago. They’re looking great now.

Some bath time fun. Asher kept sticking his tongue out.


And Lucas thought that was cool, so …

We have a book from the library called Hurry and the Monarch and another book all about the life-cycle of the monarch butterfly. Lucas spent two entire days being a monarch butterfly. I had to sneak this photo because he didn’t want one taken. He also had a monarch butterfly painted on his face—and it was damned good, if I do say so myself.

Lucas has also spent a lot of time pretending to be a mouse and a rabbit, which is more palatable to me than, say, pretending to be a Hells Angel or WWF wrestler. Even though small woodland creatures talk in unbearably high, squeaky voices and titter loudly enough to make your head explode.

To keep ourselves busy, we have also: 
* painted pictures
* painted faces
* made mobiles from tissue paper and sticks
* played board games
* played with dominoes
* drawn and colored
* cooked
* gardened and planted 2 tomatoes, 1 cucumber, 1 cantaloupe melon, 2 lavender bushes
* read dozens and dozens of books
* shopped online
* done many, many chores
* cleaned out closets
* and blogged.

I was wondering if anyone can point me to good info about homeopathy? Does it work? Is it safe? (The FDA recently said not to give cold meds to children under 6 years old, so I’m trying to find something to relieve symptoms.) I don’t have much experience with this, but we are trying Hyland’s ear ache and cold tablets for children. I see homeopathy kits on the internet, but have some skepticism and sticker shock at their prices.

Ian called. He’s got it now too. That makes all four of us. We’re all sick with the cold that knocked Lucas out a week ago. 

We are tired. We are miserable. Lucas is alternately very exhausted and pathetic and annoying as hell. He’s on meds. He is now complaining of an earache. 

The rest of us are just suffering, hoping we’ll feel better soon. 

Asher keeps looking at me like, “What the hell kind of crap mom are you, anyway?! Why don’t you DO something?” I get the stink-eye from him when his nose explodes snotty slime all over his face. I get it when I take his temp rectally. I get it when he coughs. And also when I put any type of food in front of him—any morsel at all. He won’t eat anything. (Thank goodness he’s still nursing. I know he’s getting some fluids at least.) 

Asher woke up many times last night with coughing or crying. But then he did something I’ve never seen him or anyone else do in my whole life: He started screaming and thrashing about. I’m talking about eyes-open-mouth-blaring-rageful screaming. And thrashing his entire body about in the bed, hitting his head on the headboard, on me, on Ian, with complete disregard. It was like a full-on temper tantrum out of a dead sleep at 3 a.m. If he had been hot to the touch, I would have concluded, “Oh, so this is what a febrile seizure looks like.” Only he didn’t have a fever. He was, as far as I can guess, simply MAD AS HELL. He screamed that way for 20 minutes. Ian just held him … tightly, until Asher stopped screaming and went back to sleep. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

It’s another gorgeous spring day and we are trapped inside the Wilson Sanatorium. God help me. I’m just about off my rocker.

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.

Yes, that says “Day Four.” We had planned to spend his first week (and Ian’s only week) of Easter Break at the cabin in South Lake Tahoe. I know we were there just last month, but staying there is fun and free and we figured that we could do with another week of snowy bliss. 

Alas. We are not in Tahoe. We are puttering around our house, mostly enjoying each other’s company and not working, but we’re also bummed that Lucas feels so crummy. He has had a fever and a bad cough since Sunday night. He is able to play a little (occasionally a lot) when we dose him with ibuprofen, but when it wears off he’s back to feeling miserable. And he is bored. And whiny. 

But, really, poor baby! At least he’s old enough now to know that sickness is temporary. I hated it when he was younger and he would get sick and look at me with those big blue eyes and ask, “Why, Mommy?” And expect me to make it all better.

The weather is drop-dead gorgeous, if such a thing can be said about weather, and it’s hard to be cooped up indoors. We managed a leisurely walk along the American River bike trail at Negro Bar yesterday and a meal out in Folsom. Today we tried a walk around our neighborhood with Lucas on his bike, but he quickly decided he’d rather turn around and go home. Asher and I pressed on without Lucas and daddy and had a nice, quiet walk. 

Last week Lucas played with the grandson of his grandma’s friend on Wednesday. He was here visiting from Maryland or someplace. The next day the kid was sick and had to cancel another planned playdate with Lucas. I’ve been silently blaming that kid for the last four days for getting my kid sick. Turns out, he wasn’t this sick, so maybe it’s not his fault afterall.

On a more positive note, Ian has made us some marvelous meals and I love, love, love that I have a husband who wows (and woos) me with food. Tonight we had chicken picata with artichoke hearts and capers and a sidedish of kale and chard in a creamy tomato sauce. Two nights ago he cooked chicken korma, complete with cashews and garum masala. Totally delish. He’s a man of many scrumptious talents and I’m a lucky girl.

Also, the darling

frosteee 

dropped by (unfortunately when we weren’t at home) and left us a big, beautiful family portrait as a gift. It must be 16 x 20 or bigger (don’t know where my measuring tape is at the moment) and printed on metallic paper and mounted on a hard board of some type. It’s this shot that they took of us at Asher’s birthday party on Feb 3, and we look like rockstars!



I adore it and I can’t wait to have it framed. It’s awesome! Thank you, Frostee and T8! 

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.

I’ve just finished tucking my 5-year-old in for the night. We have an elaborate but working bedtime ritual (bath or shower, brushing teeth and hair, stories, candle prayer with all of us, lights out, songs and cuddles with mommy) that begins just after dinner and ends with me creeping out of the room in the dark. I sing the same eight songs every night. Then I choose from one to six others in a regular rotation—I’m just wacky enough to mix ’em up once in a while! (Yes, I am a rockstar.)

The second-to-last song is always “Rock-A-Bye Baby.” I used to not sing this song to Lucas, but he started asking for it about a year ago. I figured one of his teachers sang this song at naptime. The last song is always “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” This one is by far his favorite lullaby.

Tonight Lucas asked me, “Does the baby really fall out of the tree, Mommy?” And I was left momentarily speechless. Because … well, I KNOW! What a terrible thing to sing to a small child! This is exactly why I chose not to sing it for so long! 

I said, lamely, “Well, it’s a way of saying the baby falls asleep.”

The internet says:

The words and lyrics to this nursery rhyme are reputed to reflect the observations of a young pilgrim boy in America who had seen Native Indian mothers suspend a birch bark cradle from the branches of a tree enabling the wind to rock the cradle and the child to sleep. The rhyme also hold a warning on the choice of bough!

Wikipedia elaborates. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock-a-bye_Baby

(author unknown)

Rock-a-bye, baby
In the treetop
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall
And down will come baby
Cradle and all

Baby is drowsing
Cosy and fair
Mother sits near
In her rocking chair
Forward and back
The cradle she swings
And though baby sleeps
He hears what she sings

From the high rooftops
Down to the sea
No one’s as dear
As baby to me
Wee little fingers
Eyes wide and bright
Now sound asleep
Until morning light 

I think I’ll try to learn the two last verses.

Hi folks. Just a quick note to say we’re home safe and sound. We had an easy drive over the summit and down the hill today. Only one 20-minute traffic delay due to road work. We left the cabin at around noon; it was sunny and the snow was melting quickly and falling in spectacular splatty splashes off the tree limbs. We had a yummy lunch in Placerville and trooped around town on foot for a while to stretch our legs. (Attention Yarn Hos: Lofty Lou’s is a nice shop! http://www.knit.us/)

Now it’s rustle-Lucas-off-to-bed-time so he can get to school tomorrow. 
 

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.  

So, Ian and I have a date to go to a new restaurant owned by Mason Song, called Maritime Seafood and Grill, in Carmichael on Saturday  (http://www.sacbee.com/117/story/423116.html), so today, Valentine’s Day, isn’t the romantic, knock-your-cock-ring-off kind of day the diamond stores would have us think it is. (But don’t get me wrong—I got nothin’ against cock rings or diamonds!)

We have celebrated—but we did it with our kids. Late last night, I made a path of red, pink, and light pink paper hearts from Lucas’s bedroom to the kitchen table, and from our bedroom to the kitchen. I set out red placemats, a red candle, a Valentine’s balloon, and homemade Valentines at each place setting. I set out the heart-shaped egg molds, but forgot that we were out of eggs. No worries! Yogurt, chicken nuggets, and cereal for Lucas and quesadillas for us are a perfect way to celebrate Valentine’s Day!

When Lucas woke this morning, he came into our bedroom as usual and whispered, “Dad, there’s something special in the living room. Come see!” It wasn’t until the lights were on that he realized the paper hearts on the floor lead all the way to the kitchen. “Theres even a heart on my chair!” he said. We had a nice breakfast together, with only a moderate amount of “Get your clothes on!” and “No! My foot hurts!” drama. Five-year-olds are weird.

Today at school, Lucas enjoyed a Valentine’s Day party, complete with a story, a cookie, and a special dance. “Everyone fell down!” he said. “Even Miss Johnson! And Ripley, but I caught her. I saw that she was going to fall down so I went over and caught her.” (Lucas has a crush on Ripley, I think.)

He brought home Valentines that he made at school and a Valentine crown. He also brought out the Valentine that he made last week with grandma VoVo, which he’s kept hidden in his room, and gave it to us. They are all very cute and he was very proud of them. We talked about how on Valentine’s Day, we make sure that the people we love know we love them. 

EDIT: I forgot to mention that Ian went grocery shopping to buy a special (last-minute) dinner, too. Good thing he called home before he checked out! He brought home a beautiful bouquet of flowers to grace our dinner table.

I took the kids grocery shopping late this afternoon to buy supplies for a special (last-minute) dinner. I cooked London Broil with mushrooms and onions and salad. I bought big, fat (heart-like) strawberries and whipped up some cream for dipping. Ian made me two cosmos and then poured a lovely red wine with dinner. So, halfway through the meal I realized that I was totally tipsy and thoroughly enjoying myself. “Watch out, mom! If you have too many cosmos, you might get drunk and then you can’t drive a car!” Lucas informed me. I told him I wasn’t going anywhere. The strawberries and whipped cream after dinner were a big hit. We all laughed  a lot and even Asher ate two strawberries.

So, in the midst of our “normal” weeknight routine of dinner prep, cleanup, shower, stories, and bed, I ended up being drunk and goofy. Ian and I got romantic while Lucas showered and Asher (unbeknownst to us) splashed in the toilet. 

Oh. Shit! Not supposed to get frisky while the baby splashes in the toilet! That’s on the special Only Bad Parents Do These Things list. Ooops. Dammit, Ian, weren’t you supposed to buy those toilet locks?!

We moved on to stories (Days wth Frog and Toad) and cuddles for Lucas and drunk mama. We sang and snuggled and professed our undying, immeasurable love for one another. Asher crawled into Lucas’s room looking for me while we were cuddling—not something that usually happens.

So, now we get to try to coax Asher to sleep before Ian and I can make love. Hopefully, the baby will fall asleep before I do, but after several worrisome, sick-baby, wakeful nights, I’d say it’s now about even odds.

I promised I’d get permission before I posted this one, so we’ll see if Ian lets it pass.

Sometimes being a parent and a woman madly in love with her husband results in crossed wires and surreal nights. Oh. I think I hear Ian behind the bar shakin’ up another cosmo.