Turns out it's Lulu's first ear infection. She's already feeling better; thank god for modern medicine. Matthew created a "recuperation pit" on the living room floor -- sofa cushions, stuffed animals -- and she's been lounging there resting and watching TV for most of yesterday and today. We tried daycare this morning but she was too pooped to make it, so we'll let her rest up today and try again tomorrow.
Hi. I'm back. A huge project at work (mostly) wrapped up last week; it had been consuming me for 16 hour days, seven days per week, for the past month and now...hmm. Not quite sure what to do with myself. Blog more, I guess. Lucky you!
And, take some time off, with family and also alone -- my boss gave me a nice gift certificate to my favorite bed and breakfast on the Oregon Coast, the Sylvia Beach Hotel. Have I written about this place before? Sylvia Beach owned a bookstore in Paris in the 20s and 30s, Shakespeare and Co., where all the expat authors would hang out together, Hemingway, Joyce (she published the first edition of Ulysses herself). Anyway, the B&B is a great old building, and each guest room is modeled after a different author. The Colette room is all red velvet and lace, the Poe room is black wall paper, a bricked in wall behind the (fake) closet door, and a pendulum swinging over the bed. Hemingway (deer heads), Fitzgerald (gin bottles), Wilde (pretty! flowery!). And upstairs overlooking the ocean, a common library with books, old overstuffed chairs, hot spiced wine in the evenings (oh, I wish I liked booze). I love that place.
So, maybe I'll sneak away to spend some time there in the coming weeks.
In other news...Lulu is sick, pitifully sick. Monday afternoon she went from gloriously happy to sad and clingy and a low-grade fever. The fever broke in the night and she went to school yesterday, but by the time she was home the fever kicked in again -- only low-grade again -- but she started drooling, whining, and crying. Literally crying, which she almost never does...sitting on the couch with tears rolling down her cheeks, watching Dora. It was horrible. The night wasn't great either; she's clearly in pain despite a constant schedule of Tylenol. We slept together and she would wake periodically, cry, and say "help." Broke my battered heart into a million pieces. Probably teeth -- will that NEVER friggin' end?! she's almost 3! -- but Matthew and she are going to the doc today to rule out anything worse.
And there you have it. How are you? Sorry I've been so absent from blogs and emails recently. I shall return.
Dork on the beach
Yeah, I've got a belly. It's right here. Why the hell can't you remember that? This is the last time I remind you, I mean it. 
Warm up kiss
Slippin' Grandma the tongue (seriously, gross!)
The time: 11 p.m. last night
The setting: Lucy's room
The lighting: dim
The mood: surly
Lucy: ok, kinda bored here...duck, you here? Duck? Oh, hi. Hey, bear. Pig, good to see you -- lookin' fine! La la la...ok, this blows. I need to create some magic here. How to rouse the rest...crying? Screaming? Yeah, but what else? Oh, a little poop -- that's novel! "YAAAHH! AAAAA! MAMAMAMAMA! YAAAAH!"
Interval: diaper change, tiny teaser poop only hinting at the horror that might be to come, ridiculously alert kid, ridiculously tired mama.
Interval: cuddle, back to crib, back to bed, back to yelling. Repeat.
Interval: move the freak show to the guest room and lay down together on big bed; this works during naptime sometimes.
Mom: zzz. Wha? zzz.
Lucy: Well now, this is kind of nice. Room to wiggle, new pillow, Mama...what should I do? Wiggle? OK, commencing wiggle sequence
Interval: crazy wiggling.
Lucy: ....wiggle executed. That was fun. Now what? Sing? 99 bottles of beer? Oh, crap. I can only count to one. OK, that's out. La la la, doobedoobedoo. What's that in my ear? Oh, hey, what's in my nose? Is that my foot? Why isn't mama talking? Do you think she knows where her head is? Do you? Should I tell her? I'll tell her. "Head. Head!" OK, got that covered. Hey, what's that in my nose? Let's check it out. Ho hum...wiggle time? Why isn't mama talking? Do you think she's trying to remember what the horn on the bus says? Should I tell her? Did she forget? Better remind her..."Beep beep beep!" Wiggle time! Is there something in mama's nose? Should I check? Oh! She's talking now! Happy happy! Oh, she doesn't seem that happy...I should smile. Cheeeezze! Hey, what's that in my nose?
