DYING

Kate is much better. However, now Sarah and Jeremiah have colds and I am dying. Yesterday, when I tried to get an appointment to see the doctor, he made me instead go to the emergency room because I had a fever of 103 and had just blacked out during a sojourn into the kitchen.

"We need them to rule out meningitis" the nurse told me. "I don't have meningitis", I said. She was unmoved. No fan of Occam's Razor, she. I was pretty certain I have a sinus infection and/or the flu. Still, it was off to the ER with me. So I made Jeremiah come home and take me because of the raging fever and the blacking out. We proceeded to enjoy the hospitality of the good people of Emory for 4 hours. They were overloaded so I sat on a gurney in the hallway. The triage nurse castigated me for not getting a flu shot. "Would it have spared me this dreaded meningitis?!?" I thought, but did not say.

When I finally saw the doctor he moved all my joints around and felt my neck. He then told me he concurred with my diagnosis of sinus infection and flu. A mere 45 minutes after that, we were out the door with a prescription for an antibiotic and...Robotussin. I think that might have been a mistake because I do not have a cough. It claims it will make one drowsy so I took it anyway because I was dying for something that would allow me to sleep.

My fever raged all night. The little I was able to sleep, I dreamed about the cast of Lost. And all I can smell is, I'm pretty sure, the fried bits from Captain D's. And everything tastes like metal. This is how I know I'm dying. It's just as well, since I don't think Blogger is ever going to fix its spellcheck anyway. (Has anyone else noticed this? It's very annoying for the spelling impaired!)

Sarah feeds the dog

Sarah likes to feed Lola. First, she figured out how to open the bin in which we store Lola's food. Then she figured out how to scoop some food into the cup and bring it over to Lola's bowl. Then she decided it was easier to grab handfuls of food and drop them directly into the bowl. We can't stop her. She's a dog-feeding maniac.

Today we proudly watched as she rolled the bin adjacent to the dog's bowl and then went about delivering tiny handfuls of the scrumptious nuggets one after the other until Lola's bowl is full.

Occasionally, a few chunks of dog food land in the water bowl instead of their intended destination and Sarah will stare at the error woefully and sigh "Uh-oh". After taking a moment to compose herself, she gets right back to work. I hope Lola doesn't mind soggy dog food in her cold beverage.

Lola is going to be huge by swimsuit season. We just don't notice how often Sarah is feeding her. I've been so delighted with her problem-solving prowess I've kind of forgotten it's probably not all that healthy for our beloved pooch.

Sick

Kate's caught a nasty cold. Yesterday they sent her home from daycare around 3:30 with a fever. The poor thing is thoroughly stuffed up and glassy-eyed. Still, she insisted on wearing her princess dress. She took a bath, put on her princess dress and then began the whiny fits. It was pretty obvious she was behaving this way because she felt terrible and had no idea why. Then, we held her down and put saline up her nose which, to my surprise, did not improve her mood. It did, however, get a metric ton of snot out of her nose. Jeremiah gave her a blue corn chip as a peace offering.

Kate sat at the counter in the kitchen wailing and whining and eating her chip. She said things that made no sense at all. Loud. "I don't waaaaaannnna eat my dinner! I'm huuuungry! I don't need to go to daycare I went alrrrreeeady!" Smack dab in the midst of this screed she paused, noting the new bag on the work island. In a totally normal tone of voice she said "Did you buy rice?" Jeremiah looked up from whatever activity he'd selected to aid him in ignoring her fit. "Why yes" he said. We looked at each other and shrugged. She went right back to her fit.

Sarah, aging gracefully

Sarah recently glided past the 18-month-mark of her life. These days she signs like mad but also talks non-stop. Each day, we understand more and more of her prattle. She adores the pets and her sister. She loves books and will bring us an endless supply of them and, before you can object, plop down in your lap, awaiting a reading. In the evenings after daycare, she likes to run circles around house, yelping until we finally scoop her up and take her to bed. It's so hard to believe that our family hasn't always included her. Here's a few shots of 18-month-old Sarah with her peops.

I hate to have to send her away but...

...that Kate's got to go. This morning's conversation (over the noise of NPR's election coverage):

Kate: [Giggling and indicating her behind] This is my Georgia booty!
Jeremiah : Yep, yours is a Georgia booty.
Kate: You got a Georgia booty!
Jeremiah: Nope, I've got a Michigan booty! And Mommy has an Indiana booty!
Me: Well, not reeeeeaallly
Kate: Not really! Mommy's got a big ol' booty!

Stickers for grown-ups!

Ah, Super Tuesday! I love voting. Just as the mom in Mary Poppins who was too busy fighting for suffrage to notice her kids at all predicted, I do adore the suffragettes. I woke up happy, knowing it was an election day. We were out of coffee which might have ordinarily caused some quiet panic in the pit of my stomach but I simply left a few minutes early and headed to our local coffee shop. From there to the polling place! Giddy, I joined the (somewhat depressingly short) line promptly at 7:05. I even like standing in line on election day. This is interesting to me as the very prospect of standing in a line as finite as 2 people has, on occasion, prompted me to put down the item I was planning to purchase and just go home. But I love to chat it up with my neighbors in line at the polling place. We are a delightful mix of colors, ages, socioeconomic backgrounds and, I noticed this morning, styles of dress.

I had my driver's license, subject of much debate in our state's supreme court, at the ready for the cheerful volunteer. I gleefully filled out the form stating I would be voting in the Democratic primary today (though my pen hovered briefly over "Republican"...throw off The Man? Nah.) and I stepped up to the Diebold electronic voting machine and hoped no one had hacked into it as I placed my vote. Why yes, I do think we should implement a 1% sales tax to pay to replace our pre-civil war sewage systems! I selected the lesser of the evils for whom I would like my state's delegates to vote and then I hit CAST BALLOT. That always feels so good. I paused for a moment of silence for all the people dying in the name of free elections in Kenya right now and then I moved toward the door.

Then comes the very best part about voting. Unlike my children, I receive no particular kudos for my good behavior at the doctor's office, the dentist or even at work. But for voting...I get a sticker! IN YOUR FACE KATE & SARAH!!! I always display my sticker proudly on my shirt on election day, in hopes of reminding my fellow voters to go to their polling places. Sometimes I forget it and it goes through the wash on my shirt and I have to work to remove the sticky remnants of paper from various bits of clothing as they emerge from the dryer. It's alright. I'm a Georgia voter!

More from the royal court of Kate

Yesterday when Jeremiah picked the girls up from daycare Kate, in an especially giggly mood, pronounced herself Princess Camelbutt. When I arrived home from work Princess Camelbutt was outside playing in our next door neighbors' yard with their dogs, Jack and Carmen, our dog and her sister who she declared was "Little Crazy Sister". Jeremiah and I chatted with Charlie and Alison while Princess Camelbutt, Little Crazy Sister and all the dogs romped in the very wet, red, Georgia clay. The end result was a study in earth tones. Suddenly Kate had had enough and announced she wanted to go inside and put on her princess dress. The edict proclaimed, we had no choice but to acquiesce. Her royal highness, her sororal royal highness and I went upstairs (sans muddy shoes) to change into something more appropriate for, I assume, dinner.

While we were up there Kate found her sparkly sunglasses and seized upon them. Slowly, dramatically, she placed them on her face and looked at me. "I want to wear these with my princess dress, " she explained and then struck a regal pose, "so I can look like a superstar!" Emphasis on "SUPER" and throw away whisper on "starrrrr". And then, you must believe me gentle readers, she flashed me two animated jazz hands. Just for a second! Then strutted out of the room. I nearly peed.