Hey Wavy,
Tomorrow is W-Day. In eight hours, the alarm will go off and I'll be back in the real world. Since having more children is not a possibility, and the retirement age will probably be 80 years old by the time I'm actually ready to retire, it will probably be another ***40*** years before I get three months off in a row.
At least you gave me something to worry about today, other than work.
You've had a cough for the past couple of weeks. Hell, everyone in the house has a cough. But this morning you were hella wheezy, it sounded like you were knocking gravel around in the bottom of your lungs.
So I took you to the doctor, and turns out, you have something called bronchialitis, which is the baby version of bronchitis. We have to give you breathing treatments every 4 hours as needed, with a nebulizer machine that was delivered to the house this afternoon. Breathing in the misty medicine emanating from the nebulizer tube, you look like a tiny little addict in an opium den in darkest Bangkok.
So instead of sitting around the house all day, watching the clock and obsessing about W-Day, I dealt with you and your problems. I guess I need to thank you for that?
Above is a picture of your brother helping me make chocolate cookie pops for his class's Valentine's Day party. They turned out pretty cute:
Okay, scoot over, I'm coming to bed. Love you both. Even though you're both pretty goofy looking:
2 comments:
Listening to Poor Places by Wilco, and then Trouble by Voxtrot, are very good tunes to listen to while immersing oneself in the japes and jinx (hi and lo) of my wobbly, wubbly Nevadan Wagon Wheelers.
Lemme see here-- cute cute cute kids. Cute Poppa. Funny blogs... Holy crap! Cookie Pops? I am amazed. Rachel Rae can suck it!
Anywho -Congrats on all of Jake's pontification, and good luck with Wavy's aspiration (poor addict). I actually have a New Years pkg kind of kicking around the house gathering redwood mold, so you know-- you can look forward to that. Sorry about that whole 'wurk' thing. I'll burn some Post-Its in effigy.
Love ya, K. Ciao!
p.s. If L ever does post, tell her I said, 'What up, baller?'
N. was on a nubilzer machine for about 3 years on and off. It took so muh time! I remember having to get up in the middle fo the night and being SO tired to do the treatments whole she slept blissfully unaware.
Sorry about the work thing. Work sucks. A lot.
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