Last night Andrew and I watched Spartacus. It's three hours long and counts as three hours of "outside" research for one of his Italian classes. He's required to do 24 hours of outside research (ie. research not on the syllabus, that isn't related to any papers he has to write for that class, research above and beyond the 2 hours of homework per class period--strange, I know) each semester. I think this semester the teacher is actually allowing them to use their "paper research" time to count toward their 24 hours of research, which I'm happy about. I thought it was so odd how she wanted them to just do hours and hours of research that they would never be tested on, that they would never write a paper on, that they wouldn't use in any of their other classes, but just for fun.
Not that research for the sake of research is bad. I enjoy doing research, but when you are taking 20 credit hours and have major projects in each class and are working 25 hours a week, it's hard to enjoy that extra 24 hours of research. Thankfully Andrew only has 18 credits this semester, which is somehow a whole lot nicer.
Anyway, we put Rachel on the floor to play because she doesn't do very well sitting through movies unless she has full roam of the floor, and then turned on the movie. After selecting "play" from the menu, the movie went immediately to the overture, obviously, since that's what is supposed to come first. What was kind of odd was that the screen was completely black all through the overture. Andrew and I were sitting on the couch, facing the television and Rachel was sitting somewhere between us and the television. She was very confused.
She would stare at the television and, noticing it was completely blank, would then turn and look at us with a a look of curiosity. Since we were still looking at the screen, she would check to see if anything was on it. She was so perplexed; we found it quite entertaining so we spent several minutes focusing on the screen, trying our very best to look interested in the nothing that was on while Rachel continued to look back and forth between us and the television, trying to figure out what we were watching.
Even that got boring after awhile and we didn't have all night so we fast forwarded through the rest of the overture and started the actual movie. Rachel was visibly relieved when a picture popped up on the screen to accompany the sound coming from it. Her face read, "Phew! Mom and Dad aren't crazy!"
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
Grad School and Visa Pictures
Tonight we finished up Andrew's application for The American University in Cairo. I say "we" because really, once you're a couple, there is no "I" anymore. He'll be doing all the studying, it's true but Rachel and I will be going along with him, wherever he ends up going, so it definitely involves "us."
I took his visa pictures (because we're too cheap to get them done professionally). I proofread his essays (over and over and over again). I wrote on his application so that it would be legible (his hand writing is so bad that he really should consider becoming a doctor). He did everything else: Wrote the essays, revised the essays, told me what to write on the application, got letters of recommendation and transcripts, got an HIV test, etc., etc., etc.
There are actually a lot of hoops to jump through in order to apply for grad school, especially if you're going foreign. But we're finally ready to send it off through the trusty USPS (Andrew's going to mail it tomorrow morning).
Now all we have to do is anxiously await our letter, which will hopefully be one of acceptance. We really hope to get in even though we have no idea how we're going to pay for this whole adventure. We applied for three scholarships and will probably have to take out a Stafford Loan--anyone who has any experience with such things (loans) is welcome to share because we have no clue what we're doing!
We're just due for an adventure, I think. We haven't used our passports in quite a while and they keep calling out to me. Since we'll have to get Rachel a passport we tried taking some passport pictures of her after we took Andrew's visa pictures. Have you ever tried to get a six month old baby to sit still and look directly into the camera without shoving her hands in her mouth? It's pretty tricky, let me tell you, but I think that a few of them turned out alright.
Looking at our passports and thinking about visas reminded me of some experiences we had getting ID and visa pictures abroad.
When I lived in Russia we had to renew our visas at the embassy in Latvia. Since we (all the girls traveling with me) had used our remaining passport pictures for the student IDs issued at the university sponsoring us we had to get new pictures taken for our visa applications. We went in small groups to a studio and took turns having our pictures taken with a rather forward photographer. He only promised to take mine and Emily's pictures if we gave him Esther's phone number. I don't actually remember if we gave him the real number or if we thought to give him a fake number (did he ever call you, Es?).
Our photographer kept prompting us to "look normal," which we kept insisting we did. Finally he asked us to look a little more sad. Apparently you aren't supposed to look happy that your visa is getting renewed or something.
Anyway, when we got our pictures back they looked pretty dreadful--airbrushed and saturated and gross. The black and white one on the left is my visa picture from Russia.
(L to R: Nancy's Russia visa, Andrew's Jordan ID, Andrew's Egypt visa, Nancy's passport, Nancy's Jordan ID, Rachel's passport)
The ones in the middle were the pictures we had taken for our student ID cards at the University of Jordan. The photographers treated us like artwork and kept asking us to tilt our heads up, down, left, right; step forward, step back, smile a little more, a little less, a little more, perfect... I think they took a little more time composing my shot. And you will notice that, while Andrew's picture looks like a mere snapshot, mine is softened and all my blemishes have disappeared. If I'm not mistaken my cheeks are even a little rosier than usual. They gave me twice as many wallet-size photos as Andrew, as well as a bigger one in a cute little cardboard frame--for the same price that Andrew got four pictures. I'm not sure that either of my foreign pictures would be accepted in the United States as a passport photo.
I am hoping, however, that they accept Rachel's passport photo. It's always a gamble, taking the picture by yourself, and I'm worried that the dimensions aren't right because her head is so big compared to the rest of her body that it seemed more difficult to achieve the same result than when working with an adult subject. She squirmed more, she looked everywhere but at the camera, she kept trying to eat her hands, and her smile was either too big or non-existent. I think that she turned out looking really cute, though!
I took his visa pictures (because we're too cheap to get them done professionally). I proofread his essays (over and over and over again). I wrote on his application so that it would be legible (his hand writing is so bad that he really should consider becoming a doctor). He did everything else: Wrote the essays, revised the essays, told me what to write on the application, got letters of recommendation and transcripts, got an HIV test, etc., etc., etc.
There are actually a lot of hoops to jump through in order to apply for grad school, especially if you're going foreign. But we're finally ready to send it off through the trusty USPS (Andrew's going to mail it tomorrow morning).
Now all we have to do is anxiously await our letter, which will hopefully be one of acceptance. We really hope to get in even though we have no idea how we're going to pay for this whole adventure. We applied for three scholarships and will probably have to take out a Stafford Loan--anyone who has any experience with such things (loans) is welcome to share because we have no clue what we're doing!
We're just due for an adventure, I think. We haven't used our passports in quite a while and they keep calling out to me. Since we'll have to get Rachel a passport we tried taking some passport pictures of her after we took Andrew's visa pictures. Have you ever tried to get a six month old baby to sit still and look directly into the camera without shoving her hands in her mouth? It's pretty tricky, let me tell you, but I think that a few of them turned out alright.
Looking at our passports and thinking about visas reminded me of some experiences we had getting ID and visa pictures abroad.
When I lived in Russia we had to renew our visas at the embassy in Latvia. Since we (all the girls traveling with me) had used our remaining passport pictures for the student IDs issued at the university sponsoring us we had to get new pictures taken for our visa applications. We went in small groups to a studio and took turns having our pictures taken with a rather forward photographer. He only promised to take mine and Emily's pictures if we gave him Esther's phone number. I don't actually remember if we gave him the real number or if we thought to give him a fake number (did he ever call you, Es?).
Our photographer kept prompting us to "look normal," which we kept insisting we did. Finally he asked us to look a little more sad. Apparently you aren't supposed to look happy that your visa is getting renewed or something.
Anyway, when we got our pictures back they looked pretty dreadful--airbrushed and saturated and gross. The black and white one on the left is my visa picture from Russia.
(L to R: Nancy's Russia visa, Andrew's Jordan ID, Andrew's Egypt visa, Nancy's passport, Nancy's Jordan ID, Rachel's passport)The ones in the middle were the pictures we had taken for our student ID cards at the University of Jordan. The photographers treated us like artwork and kept asking us to tilt our heads up, down, left, right; step forward, step back, smile a little more, a little less, a little more, perfect... I think they took a little more time composing my shot. And you will notice that, while Andrew's picture looks like a mere snapshot, mine is softened and all my blemishes have disappeared. If I'm not mistaken my cheeks are even a little rosier than usual. They gave me twice as many wallet-size photos as Andrew, as well as a bigger one in a cute little cardboard frame--for the same price that Andrew got four pictures. I'm not sure that either of my foreign pictures would be accepted in the United States as a passport photo.
I am hoping, however, that they accept Rachel's passport photo. It's always a gamble, taking the picture by yourself, and I'm worried that the dimensions aren't right because her head is so big compared to the rest of her body that it seemed more difficult to achieve the same result than when working with an adult subject. She squirmed more, she looked everywhere but at the camera, she kept trying to eat her hands, and her smile was either too big or non-existent. I think that she turned out looking really cute, though!
Line of Demarcation
If there's one thing Rachel's learned about crawling it's that it's a school of hard knocks. Let's just say that she won't go onto the wood floor for anything. Now that she can get around, she'll often crawl right up to the edge of the carpet and slap the wood floor with her hands, kind of how she splashes in the bathtub. But she won't crawl out onto it. She has face planted one time too many to try risking it on a hard surface.
So the line between the carpet and the wood floor kind of acts as a natural baby barrier.
When I'm working at the computer or in the kitchen and Rachel wants to visit me she'll crawl right up to the "line of demarcation" and call out to me until I go get her.
So the line between the carpet and the wood floor kind of acts as a natural baby barrier.
When I'm working at the computer or in the kitchen and Rachel wants to visit me she'll crawl right up to the "line of demarcation" and call out to me until I go get her.
Waiting patiently
Andrew decided to tease her this evening and dangled his keys over the wood floor. Rachel loves keys and she wanted them so she crawled out as far as she could without technically being on the wood floor. It wasn't until she was stretched so far out that she realized there was no way she could recover without having to drop to the floor on her tummy, something she wasn't about to do.
So she panicked and started calling out to me from across the room, all the while holding her position. I wasn't about to go rescue her because Andrew was standing right there and he was the one who helped her get into this predicament. He wasn't about to rescue her because he was enjoying himself far too much.
She held this position for about five minutes before Andrew finally helped her back onto the carpet. Doesn't she look like she's doing pushups?
So she panicked and started calling out to me from across the room, all the while holding her position. I wasn't about to go rescue her because Andrew was standing right there and he was the one who helped her get into this predicament. He wasn't about to rescue her because he was enjoying himself far too much.
She held this position for about five minutes before Andrew finally helped her back onto the carpet. Doesn't she look like she's doing pushups?
Please, daddy, please!
Come to think of it, she'd be really great at the lava game we'd always play as children, throwing pillows and things on the ground so we could cross the room without touching the ground. We'll have to teach her that game in a few years.
Anyway, Andrew continued to taunt Rachel about the wood floor, spurred on by her fear. He put her down on her hands and knees right in the middle of the floor and she immediately pushed up onto her hands and feet and wouldn't move anywhere.
As a final test of her boundaries we put a mat down right next to the carpet to see if she would crawl onto that. Andrew dangled his keys at her (like she's a cat or something) and she crawled cautiously to the edge of the floor and reached one hand onto the mat. After giving it a good feel, and deciding that its texture met her standards, she ventured out to retrieve the keys.
I wonder how she'll handle being outside once it's warm enough...grass, cement, dirt...those are all kind of scary.
Anyway, Andrew continued to taunt Rachel about the wood floor, spurred on by her fear. He put her down on her hands and knees right in the middle of the floor and she immediately pushed up onto her hands and feet and wouldn't move anywhere.
As a final test of her boundaries we put a mat down right next to the carpet to see if she would crawl onto that. Andrew dangled his keys at her (like she's a cat or something) and she crawled cautiously to the edge of the floor and reached one hand onto the mat. After giving it a good feel, and deciding that its texture met her standards, she ventured out to retrieve the keys.
I wonder how she'll handle being outside once it's warm enough...grass, cement, dirt...those are all kind of scary.
Coordination
It's remarkable Andrew and I met on a dance team considering he struggles with left and right and neither of us is the most coordinated of people. Unfortunately for Rachel, she has two very uncoordinated parents which means that she'll probably have a little trouble mastering some of the same skills we did.
Rachel has been on the verge of crawling for quite some time but always forgets to move an arm or a leg and ends up toppling over. Today, though, she showed off her blossoming skills for the camera. Her coordination is getting a whole lot better. You can see her moving hand, leg, hand, leg--almost a normal crawl, if only she could move that left arm a second time.
She'll master it yet, hopefully before she starts walking, which she already enjoys practicing a little too much for my taste. She loves to try and pull herself up on things. Most of the furniture in our house is still a little too high for her, which is why she enjoyed the sunbeam chairs so much on Tuesday. She loves when we let her stand up "by herself," though; it kept her occupied for a whole twenty minutes last night.
Rachel has been on the verge of crawling for quite some time but always forgets to move an arm or a leg and ends up toppling over. Today, though, she showed off her blossoming skills for the camera. Her coordination is getting a whole lot better. You can see her moving hand, leg, hand, leg--almost a normal crawl, if only she could move that left arm a second time.
She'll master it yet, hopefully before she starts walking, which she already enjoys practicing a little too much for my taste. She loves to try and pull herself up on things. Most of the furniture in our house is still a little too high for her, which is why she enjoyed the sunbeam chairs so much on Tuesday. She loves when we let her stand up "by herself," though; it kept her occupied for a whole twenty minutes last night.
Who's down there?
Rachel thought it was hilarious when I crawled under the table and looked up at her. We tapped each other's fingers from behind the glass, making it get all fingerprinty, and made faces at each other. It was a fun game.
In addition to working her gross motor skills, we keep practicing fine motor skills. Rachel likes to try to turn the light switches off and on--she uses her pointer finger only, though, so can't get enough force to get it to actually move without a little outside help. She also likes to try to grab at pictures in books, Cheerios, and anything small enough to choke on.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
By way of announcement...
Rachel's hair is 4 inches long! I measured.
And yesterday at my primary meeting we went into a room that only had the little sunbeam chairs. Rachel was in baby heaven. She thought all the chairs were just for her. She loved standing against them and banging on them and walking along them. She actually walked the length of two sunbeam chairs, went right from one to the next. I wasn't so thrilled about that--after all, she's only six months old--but she was pretty happy, at least until she fell over.
And I heard the saddest story. Sister Gurney's grandmother-in-law passed away last week. She was almost 107. None of her children were at her funeral because she had outlived them all! How sad is that! The cool thing, though, is that she joined the church when she was like 95 or 96. I think that's pretty neat. She made history!
And yesterday at my primary meeting we went into a room that only had the little sunbeam chairs. Rachel was in baby heaven. She thought all the chairs were just for her. She loved standing against them and banging on them and walking along them. She actually walked the length of two sunbeam chairs, went right from one to the next. I wasn't so thrilled about that--after all, she's only six months old--but she was pretty happy, at least until she fell over.
And I heard the saddest story. Sister Gurney's grandmother-in-law passed away last week. She was almost 107. None of her children were at her funeral because she had outlived them all! How sad is that! The cool thing, though, is that she joined the church when she was like 95 or 96. I think that's pretty neat. She made history!
Housebound
I got the trash ready to take outside this afternoon and started getting bundled up to go outside. It's kind of warm out, everything is melting, but still I chose to put on a coat. I considered not putting one on, braving the cold, and running to the trash bin as fast as I could, but I hate being cold.
So I opened the closet and grabbed my coat.
Rachel was watching me the whole time and when she saw I was getting ready to go outside she got so excited; it kind of reminded me of a puppy. She pushed up on all fours and started bouncing and squealing. After all that I couldn't leave her inside. She would have been terribly disappointed, so I bundled her up as well, threw her in the front carrier and grabbed the trash.
She was so happy to be leaving the house. We really haven't gotten out much since she's been sick. I haven't wanted to walk anywhere with her because she's had such a bad cough. But I think she's starting to feel better--her nose isn't as gobbery and she hasn't had a fever for a few days--so I didn't feel guilty taking her on a little outing. Besides the fresh air probably does her as much good as being cooped up does.
Although my feelings for the cold are less than amiable, I kind of like how pretty winter can be. Rachel and I looked at all the pretty icicles and listened to them dripping onto the ground. We looked at the melting snow and how the ice was disappearing from the pavement. Odd how all my favorite things about winter kind of revolve around spring, or at least how the evidence of cold is disappearing.
One of my favorite parts of living in "the valley" is that it snows and is really fresh and pretty, but then it melts away before I can really get sick of it. At least, it's been pretty good about doing that this year. We've gotten a nice sized storm every week or so but there's usually been a warm spell in between storms to get rid of all the icky dirty snow and give me a little sunshine. Then it snows again and everything is glistening a pristine white...and then it melts. Truthfully though, I think I could do without cold weather for a while.
So I opened the closet and grabbed my coat.
Rachel was watching me the whole time and when she saw I was getting ready to go outside she got so excited; it kind of reminded me of a puppy. She pushed up on all fours and started bouncing and squealing. After all that I couldn't leave her inside. She would have been terribly disappointed, so I bundled her up as well, threw her in the front carrier and grabbed the trash.
She was so happy to be leaving the house. We really haven't gotten out much since she's been sick. I haven't wanted to walk anywhere with her because she's had such a bad cough. But I think she's starting to feel better--her nose isn't as gobbery and she hasn't had a fever for a few days--so I didn't feel guilty taking her on a little outing. Besides the fresh air probably does her as much good as being cooped up does.
Although my feelings for the cold are less than amiable, I kind of like how pretty winter can be. Rachel and I looked at all the pretty icicles and listened to them dripping onto the ground. We looked at the melting snow and how the ice was disappearing from the pavement. Odd how all my favorite things about winter kind of revolve around spring, or at least how the evidence of cold is disappearing.
One of my favorite parts of living in "the valley" is that it snows and is really fresh and pretty, but then it melts away before I can really get sick of it. At least, it's been pretty good about doing that this year. We've gotten a nice sized storm every week or so but there's usually been a warm spell in between storms to get rid of all the icky dirty snow and give me a little sunshine. Then it snows again and everything is glistening a pristine white...and then it melts. Truthfully though, I think I could do without cold weather for a while.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Olivia Lives!
My sister Kelli dropped by with Olivia on their way for a "family date" with her soon-to-be husband and step-children. Olivia was released from the hospital last night and she's doing just fine. It's interesting how fast children pick up their energy when they have something serious like this happen.
Olivia was all about dumping out the toys and showing Rachel how to throw things. They had a lot of fun playing together, although Olivia wasn't always satisfied with the way Rachel was playing and would command her to "PLAY!" the way she wanted, which was Olivia getting her own way. Olivia was much more open to Rachel's touches than Sabrina was... It is so obvious that they're both almost two, those girls. Definitely heading toward the terrible twos. They have to do everything by themselves and have everything their way. Oh, I can't wait until we get to that stage!
Olivia was all about dumping out the toys and showing Rachel how to throw things. They had a lot of fun playing together, although Olivia wasn't always satisfied with the way Rachel was playing and would command her to "PLAY!" the way she wanted, which was Olivia getting her own way. Olivia was much more open to Rachel's touches than Sabrina was... It is so obvious that they're both almost two, those girls. Definitely heading toward the terrible twos. They have to do everything by themselves and have everything their way. Oh, I can't wait until we get to that stage!
Oh, you want this block?
I don't think so.
I don't think so.
Rachel was happy to have a playmate (who wasn't mommy) for a little while and Olivia had fun helping to take care of Rachel.
Holding her
Trying to wipe her nose
(obviously not one of Rachel's favorite activities)
Trying to wipe her nose
(obviously not one of Rachel's favorite activities)
We're glad that Olivia is almost better. She still has an ouchy from her surgery and has that pretty pink bandage on her arm. She has to have all sorts of antibiotics and treatments still but she's doing just fine.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Desperately Hungry
This post could have any number of titles, really. "I shouldn't have washed the sheets yesterday," or "Sudden Reflux Disorder," or "How do I know when I should take my baby in to see the doctor?"
I almost did call the doctor this morning. I said to myself, "If she does this again, I'm calling the doctor." She hasn't done it again though, and she's sleeping peacefully so I think she'll be okay.
It started at around 4:00 this morning when Rachel woke up crying. I went in to comfort her and she was acting hungry, so I brought her in bed with us and fed her. She had just fallen back to sleep and was busy snuggling up against me, trying to get comfortable, when she started coughing. I was stroking her head and telling her that everything was going to be alright when I saw a big white cloud form right above us. No sooner had I seen it than it rained down on us, completely drenching me, Rachel, and my nice, clean sheets.
My yelping and, "Oh, no! Baby!" woke Andrew up and he help dry me and Rachel off and got her some fresh pyjamas while I got changed, myself. I had to lay a towel down to cover up the big milk stain the was covering my side of the bed.
Eventually we all got settled in and slept well until seven or eight. I can't even remember when we woke up. Is that sad or what?
Andrew brought Rachel in to me and I started feeding her. She started acting like she had to go potty so we interrupted breakfast and she had a little potty time. She's so funny when she goes pee--it always takes her a bit by surprise. She'll start going and then turn around to look at me with this quizzical look on her face. I say, "You're peeing...that's pee pee," which she'll accept as a logical enough explanation and will turn back around. She understands BMs a whole lot better, probably because she has to do a little pushing so whether it happens in the potty or the diaper it feels the same (except the degree of squishiness after, in which case she prefers the potty).
Anyway, we successfully went potty and I laid Rachel down on her little mat so that I could empty the potty and wash my hands. While I was doing so I heard her ravenously sucking away at something. Expecting her to be sucking on her hand or foot, I turned around to see what she was up to.
She had flipped onto her stomach and was latched onto the floor! She had a nice clean seal, with her lips suctioned perfectly to the floor, and was sucking away. I didn't think that would be possible, but apparently it is if you're really hungry, which Rachel was so we went back to bed to finish giving her her breakfast.
After she had finished eating she looked at me, completely satisfied, and then started to drift off for her usual post-feeding shuteye, a slight smile gracing her face. Her relaxation was again interrupted by a coughing fit and, lucky for me, because she had just finished eating I was directly in her line of fire.
Cough, cough, BLAH!
She vomited up the entirety of her breakfast all over me, herself, and the towel that I had covering up the previous mess.
So Andrew ran into the bedroom and helped change Rachel while I changed myself...again. My third outfit of the day by 8 AM. I told Andrew, "If she does this again I'm going to call the doctor." I'm so worried that she'll get dehydrated or something but don't want to be one of those overreacting mothers.
As soon as she was back in my arms she wanted to eat again; she was still hungry, having missed out on two feedings already. It's been about a half hour since she ate and she's coughed a few times and has kept everything in her tummy, so I think she'll be alright. I hope she gets over this soon!
I almost did call the doctor this morning. I said to myself, "If she does this again, I'm calling the doctor." She hasn't done it again though, and she's sleeping peacefully so I think she'll be okay.
It started at around 4:00 this morning when Rachel woke up crying. I went in to comfort her and she was acting hungry, so I brought her in bed with us and fed her. She had just fallen back to sleep and was busy snuggling up against me, trying to get comfortable, when she started coughing. I was stroking her head and telling her that everything was going to be alright when I saw a big white cloud form right above us. No sooner had I seen it than it rained down on us, completely drenching me, Rachel, and my nice, clean sheets.
My yelping and, "Oh, no! Baby!" woke Andrew up and he help dry me and Rachel off and got her some fresh pyjamas while I got changed, myself. I had to lay a towel down to cover up the big milk stain the was covering my side of the bed.
Eventually we all got settled in and slept well until seven or eight. I can't even remember when we woke up. Is that sad or what?
Andrew brought Rachel in to me and I started feeding her. She started acting like she had to go potty so we interrupted breakfast and she had a little potty time. She's so funny when she goes pee--it always takes her a bit by surprise. She'll start going and then turn around to look at me with this quizzical look on her face. I say, "You're peeing...that's pee pee," which she'll accept as a logical enough explanation and will turn back around. She understands BMs a whole lot better, probably because she has to do a little pushing so whether it happens in the potty or the diaper it feels the same (except the degree of squishiness after, in which case she prefers the potty).
Anyway, we successfully went potty and I laid Rachel down on her little mat so that I could empty the potty and wash my hands. While I was doing so I heard her ravenously sucking away at something. Expecting her to be sucking on her hand or foot, I turned around to see what she was up to.
She had flipped onto her stomach and was latched onto the floor! She had a nice clean seal, with her lips suctioned perfectly to the floor, and was sucking away. I didn't think that would be possible, but apparently it is if you're really hungry, which Rachel was so we went back to bed to finish giving her her breakfast.
After she had finished eating she looked at me, completely satisfied, and then started to drift off for her usual post-feeding shuteye, a slight smile gracing her face. Her relaxation was again interrupted by a coughing fit and, lucky for me, because she had just finished eating I was directly in her line of fire.
Cough, cough, BLAH!
She vomited up the entirety of her breakfast all over me, herself, and the towel that I had covering up the previous mess.
So Andrew ran into the bedroom and helped change Rachel while I changed myself...again. My third outfit of the day by 8 AM. I told Andrew, "If she does this again I'm going to call the doctor." I'm so worried that she'll get dehydrated or something but don't want to be one of those overreacting mothers.
As soon as she was back in my arms she wanted to eat again; she was still hungry, having missed out on two feedings already. It's been about a half hour since she ate and she's coughed a few times and has kept everything in her tummy, so I think she'll be alright. I hope she gets over this soon!
It's okay--she's normal
Finally, after being sick for three days and acting like nothing was wrong, Rachel is starting to "act" sick. All day today she wanted to sleep and cuddle. She still tried to play like she had been doing the past couple of days but after a few minutes of crawling around she would lay her head down on her arms and rest. She has stopped looking surprised when she coughs and now just accepts it with a little moan. No more laughing fits after she's done coughing. She's more likely to whine and cry now.
Not that I'm happy that she's acting miserable, it's just that I'm glad she's normal.
I'm also glad that she's decided that sleep is trendy once more. Last night was the first time she slept all through the night in a week! She slept from 10 PM to 1 AM, from 1(ish) AM until 7 AM, and from 8 AM until 11:30 AM! She still took two naps today and put herself to bed at 8:00 (a good hour before bedtime).
Hopefully she'll sleep through the night again.
Her cough seems to be improving, although she did cough so hard that she spat up, quite violently, all of her breakfast...while we were on the potty. That was neat. Spitting up, coughing, nose dripping, and doing her "business" all at the same time. I panicked and called for Andrew, who luckily was still home. But really, she does seem to be doing better. Her fever is lower--it was completely gone this afternoon but came back this evening. These things are always worse at night for some reason.
I don't know why she's acting miserable now since she was much sicker on Saturday and was in high spirits. Oh, well. It's kind of nice that she's so cuddly and sleepy. She doesn't even really wake up when she coughs. She just shifts position.
She was in bed with me this morning and kept coughing. Every time she had a coughing attack she'd roll over or push up on her hands and legs and crawl forward a bit. At one point she was sharing my pillow. The next thing I know she's horizontal on the bed. Then on top of me. Then on the other side of the bed. It's kind of crazy.
A few minutes ago she started coughing and I thought she'd just rearrange herself and go back to sleep, but she didn't. Apparently she had had one cough attack too many and moved a bit too much in her crib.
I think she has a headache because she did have her head up, screaming, but every time the camera's "focus light" (I have no idea what it's actually called) came on, she'd bury her head. And she keeps her eyes clamped shut if she's on her back and there are overhead lights on. Poor baby.
I took her out and comforted her and pulled a pair of sweats on her (she didn't want to lay down long enough to get in official pyjamas) then gave her some Tylenol and cuddled her to sleep again. I hope she gets better soon!
Not that I'm happy that she's acting miserable, it's just that I'm glad she's normal.
I'm also glad that she's decided that sleep is trendy once more. Last night was the first time she slept all through the night in a week! She slept from 10 PM to 1 AM, from 1(ish) AM until 7 AM, and from 8 AM until 11:30 AM! She still took two naps today and put herself to bed at 8:00 (a good hour before bedtime).
Hopefully she'll sleep through the night again.
Her cough seems to be improving, although she did cough so hard that she spat up, quite violently, all of her breakfast...while we were on the potty. That was neat. Spitting up, coughing, nose dripping, and doing her "business" all at the same time. I panicked and called for Andrew, who luckily was still home. But really, she does seem to be doing better. Her fever is lower--it was completely gone this afternoon but came back this evening. These things are always worse at night for some reason.
I don't know why she's acting miserable now since she was much sicker on Saturday and was in high spirits. Oh, well. It's kind of nice that she's so cuddly and sleepy. She doesn't even really wake up when she coughs. She just shifts position.
She was in bed with me this morning and kept coughing. Every time she had a coughing attack she'd roll over or push up on her hands and legs and crawl forward a bit. At one point she was sharing my pillow. The next thing I know she's horizontal on the bed. Then on top of me. Then on the other side of the bed. It's kind of crazy.
A few minutes ago she started coughing and I thought she'd just rearrange herself and go back to sleep, but she didn't. Apparently she had had one cough attack too many and moved a bit too much in her crib.
I think she has a headache because she did have her head up, screaming, but every time the camera's "focus light" (I have no idea what it's actually called) came on, she'd bury her head. And she keeps her eyes clamped shut if she's on her back and there are overhead lights on. Poor baby.
I took her out and comforted her and pulled a pair of sweats on her (she didn't want to lay down long enough to get in official pyjamas) then gave her some Tylenol and cuddled her to sleep again. I hope she gets better soon!
Monday, February 04, 2008
SET!
Playing SET! always makes me a little nervous. It's the one game that I consistently beat Andrew at (except for two very uncharacteristic times). The only problem is that I think of Andrew as being much smarter than I am and am therefore always thinking that he's going to beat me, which rarely actually happens. You'd think I'd be able to relax, but no...I guess I just have to keep my guard up.
We played that tonight after we played Mexican Train (in which I beat Andrew, 2:3). We had gone through all the cards and were just setting up the last 3. Twelve cards were on the playing field. Andrew called a set. Nine cards left. I called a set. Six cards left.
"That's game," said Andrew, "There are always either six or nine cards left."
"Or zero," I reasoned, after almost saying that there could be three cards left--but then realizing that those three cards would have to make a set.
"No," Andrew insisted, "The rules say that there will be six or nine cards left."
He started to clean up the cards.
"There could be zero," I said.
"Fine," he challenged, laying the cards back down, "You try for zero. Go ahead."
I looked at the cards for two more seconds and saw that there were indeed two more sets there.
"Set and set," I said triumphantly.
"What?! No way! Show me!" gasped Andrew.
So I showed him.
"We need to write the company! You just cleared all the cards!"
"Are you sure that it's impossible? Check the rules." I was pretty sure it was possible to get all 27 sets in one game.
We pulled out the rules. They read, The play continues until the deck is depleted. At the end of the play there may be 6 or 9 cards remaining which do not form a 'set.'
"So there," said Andrew like he'd just cured cancer or something.
"Andrew, there may be 6 or 9 cards. May be. There could also be less, like zero."
"Oh," he said quietly, "You win."
And I did win, 19:8. We tied the next round 12:12 with nine cards left over.
I'm glad that Andrew has such a good memory.
We played that tonight after we played Mexican Train (in which I beat Andrew, 2:3). We had gone through all the cards and were just setting up the last 3. Twelve cards were on the playing field. Andrew called a set. Nine cards left. I called a set. Six cards left.
"That's game," said Andrew, "There are always either six or nine cards left."
"Or zero," I reasoned, after almost saying that there could be three cards left--but then realizing that those three cards would have to make a set.
"No," Andrew insisted, "The rules say that there will be six or nine cards left."
He started to clean up the cards.
"There could be zero," I said.
"Fine," he challenged, laying the cards back down, "You try for zero. Go ahead."
I looked at the cards for two more seconds and saw that there were indeed two more sets there.
"Set and set," I said triumphantly.
"What?! No way! Show me!" gasped Andrew.
So I showed him.
"We need to write the company! You just cleared all the cards!"
"Are you sure that it's impossible? Check the rules." I was pretty sure it was possible to get all 27 sets in one game.
We pulled out the rules. They read, The play continues until the deck is depleted. At the end of the play there may be 6 or 9 cards remaining which do not form a 'set.'
"So there," said Andrew like he'd just cured cancer or something.
"Andrew, there may be 6 or 9 cards. May be. There could also be less, like zero."
"Oh," he said quietly, "You win."
And I did win, 19:8. We tied the next round 12:12 with nine cards left over.
I'm glad that Andrew has such a good memory.
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