Coco Came to Town

A couple of months ago, Bag Lady learned of a sale on Southwest and decided she couldn't pass up a trip to San Deego's house (thank you, Clarice, for that phrase) for $99 each way.  (She also booked a flight to Reno to see the Rob and Annas in February, and we Kringels are crashing that party.) 

Bag Lady arrived the night of November 29, the Thursday after Thanksgiving.  That was about when Dolly's symptoms finally ceased, although she was still tired and not quite back to her chipper self.  Particularly because of the illness, I was reluctant to make Dolly miss her naps while Bags was here.  Thus, I was the worst host ever, and we did almost nothing.  Bags usually woke up after I put Dolly down for her morning nap.  Then, given that Dolly is only ever awake for a maximum of about two to three hours at a time, a significant portion of which is sucked up by feedings (or, more often, frustrating attempts at feedings), it's nigh unto impossible to leave the house without depriving Dolly of her naps.  Because we didn't do much, we didn't really have any photo opportunities.  In an effort to use her camera, Bags photocized Dolly.  Eating carrots:





Bags and I did get out to do a teeny bit of gift shopping, during which excursion we bought ourselves some really cute clothes.  (We now own twin dresses and flannel shirts.)  On Cornyee's last full day here, we went to lunch with Melanie Karner at this fun built-and-run-by-residents-of-a-commune restaurant in Vista, The Yellow Deli.  When Bag Lady and I pulled out of the garage to meet Mel, we discovered that my car had a completely flat tire.  Mel was nearly to Vista but turned around and picked us up.  After we got home from lunch, I put Dolly down for a nap (of course), and Bags and I tried to change the tire.  It was important to Cwungee that we do it ourselves, and I was a fan of the idea.  We (well, Bags) got the car all jacked up and the hubcap off, but we couldn't make the lug nuts budge.  We put the turny tool (no idea what the proper name is) on the lug nuts and jumped on it but to no avail.  Jim ended up getting home in time to finish the job quickly so I could get the car to the tire place before they closed.  I had to wait FOREVER at Discount Tire and hadn't taken a book or anything, so it was tough tims.  (I don't know when "time" became "tim," but I think it's been years now.  I almost can't say that word properly anymore, even in mixed [non-family] company.)  Nonetheless, I got the tire patched and then got Cold Stone ice cream for the fun tims. 

Ice cream + movies after Dolly goes to bed = the fun tims.  So the highlights of Bag Lady's visit were eating (especially crepes we made and ice cream we bought) and watching movies pretty much every night.  On the Sunday Bags was here, I wanted to watch a Christmas movie.  The only Christmas movies available for streaming, however, were painfully awful Disney creations.  We watched a few minutes of several of them and finally found one that was tolerable.  Jim and I slept through it, but Bag Lady confessed to shedding a tear at the end. 

I have to say that having another "wife" around the house was pretty wonderful.  What a difference it makes to have another lady (a BFF and sister, no less) with whom to share the grocery shopping, cooking, and baby-care duties!  Maybe there is something to the whole sister-wife thing...

It's always a pleasure when Coco comes to town.  She's so nice that she doesn't even complain about not doing much.  Crossing our fingers Southwest has another sale soon...

Thanksgiving Sickness

For the last couple of years, we have gone to Sam and Tatum's in Orange County for Thanksgiving, and Tatum and I have split the cooking duties.  This year was no exception.  In accordance with our tradition, I was in charge of rolls, potatoes, a green side (I did a salad and a traditional green bean casserole), and pumpkin cookies (I've done pumpkin pie in years past, but Sam's not a fan). 

I stayed up super-late the night before trying to do as much as possible in advance.  Thanksgiving day, the plan was to let Dolly take her morning nap and then head up to Sam and Tatum's as soon as she awoke.  Jim, however, decided to vacuum as soon as I put her down for her nap, despite my texting him recently about how I did that and she woke up and would not go back to sleep.  (He's an I-need-to-learn-it-on-my-own kind of guy.)  So, true to form, Dolly awoke and would not return to sleep. 

We finally made it to Sam and Tatum's, after a late departure and bad traffic.  (Southbound traffic was completely stopped, so we were grateful we were going north.)  Tatum wanted to plan for dinner at 5:00 so that Tess (their going-on-two-year-old) could join us, as she sleeps from 1:30 to 4:30 or 5:00.  Not long after we arrived, I put Ever down in a pack n' play for her afternoon nap.  I broke the cardinal rule of always checking her diaper before I put her down.  She cried sporadically and never seemed to really sleep.  When I finally gave up and went to get her, I discovered a nasty diarrhea blowout.  I felt really bad about the fact that my failing to change her diaper before I put her down had possibly contributed to the fiasco.  But at least it made Jim and me even in the ruining-naps department. 

We cooked and snacked all afternoon.  Dolly and Tess (while not napping or trying to nap) crawled around and played with Tess's toys, although their interaction with each other was minimal and generally acrimonious.  The boys found a really dumb but surprisingly sort of enjoyable Hallmark Christmas movie, which I watched a bit of.  We didn't sit down to eat until about 6:00.  Tess had an inexplicable meltdown when Sam tried to put her in her booster seat.  Ever was thrashed because it was almost bedtime and she'd had no naps.  After dinner, we put Ever to bed, hung out for a little while to digest, and then had dessert.  (Tatum had made a delicious apple crisp and a cherry pie.)  Then we rolled ourselves out of there and headed home.  Our tradition is to play miniature golf after dinner, but the kiddies' schedules made that impossible this year.  Jim and I will savor our title as champions at least another year. 

It turned out that the naptime diaper explosion was the beginning of a terrible illness.  Dolly's diarrhea continued for days - blowouts every time.  On Saturday, the vomiting began.  One night, she started screaming.  I went in and changed her diarrhea diaper in the semi-dark.  Then I thought, "It still stinks in here."  So I took a closer look at her crib and discovered multiple piles/pools of vomit at the bottom of her crib.  The next night was a similar story.  I went to change and deal with Crying Baby in the middle of the night.  I tried to stroke her hair back when she was on the changing table and discovered that her hair was plastered to her head with vomit.  She had dunked the whole front half of her head in puke. 

Monday and Tuesday, Jim and I took turns staying home from work with her.  After a few days, she began refusing all sustenance.  One day she took a total of about seven ounces of formula.  (A normal day is at least 24 ounces.)  The next day she still wouldn't take anything.  I was at work that day, so Jim was the lucky one who got to take her to the doctor and get her an IV.  He said it was so awful and I wouldn't have been able to handle it.  I am sure that it is true, as evidenced by my handling of another minor injury she sustained.  During the whole starvation period, Dolly was playing under the table (see discussion of her under-table workout here: http://whitandjim.blogspot.com/2012/11/11-months.html) and somehow bit her tongue and made it bleed.  She freaked out and screamed and screamed and screamed.  I couldn't really tell how bad it was, and she wouldn't stop crying.  I handled it very well - called Jim and then started crying, myself.  She eventually calmed down, and I determined that it was a very small cut.  But I couldn't believe the luck - just another reason for her to refuse food and drink.  She ended up not being bothered by her tongue for too long, though, thank goodness. 

By the following Saturday, nine days after Thanksgiving, Goose Chase was finally back to her old self.  We think she picked up the virus from our babysitter's kid.  He is about 10 or so and had had one day of vomiting two days before Ever was over there.  Of course Dolly also passed the virus on to Tess, but Tess likewise had a much milder (and shorter) version of it.  All in all, it was an unfun week, but we survived Dolly's first really bad illness.