Arwen/Elizabeth

Blech

Duuuuuude.

So, last Tuesday I was felled by an illness which I am 98% sure is the flu.  I'm mostly past the body-aching/feverish stage, but I still have congestion and one heck of a cough and I feel like I swallowed a ball of sandpaper.  Since this is day eight of I-want-to-die, I'm educatedly guessing that my germy attacker is not a mere cold, and that this is the real flu, albeit a fairly mild case.

Somewhat tangentially: it drives me crazy when people refer to stomach bugs as "flu," as if influenza, the virus which has killed so many people even in recent history, is indicated by a couple days of digestive discomfort.  I feel like people should know better.  Then again, my assessment of what constitutes basic lay knowledge of medical topics may be skewed by my experience as a child.  My mother was fully conversant with her Merck Manual (until she had to give it up because it exacerbated her hypochondriac tendencies) and I'm pretty sure she was the only mom in town who responded to her kids' complaints of headaches with, "Did you take an analgesic?"  She referred to drugs not only by their categories but by their specific names as well.  Since she passed this tendency to her children, I can tell you without consulting the box that the Dayquil-knock-off I'm currently taking is in fact a mixture of three drugs: acetaminophen (analgesic), dextromethorphan (cough suppressant), and phenylephrine (decongestant).

Hmmm.  We are a nerdy family, aren't we?

I'm not sure where I was going with that tangent, but knowing the real names of drugs is the sort of ability that is really no good unless you've got a blog on which you can show it off, so there you go.

Back to the topic at hand: I'm beyond ready to be done being sick, but I really can't complain, because thanks to the kindness of my sister (bless her) and my husband (double bless him) I got to sleep in three days last week, I haven't had to cook dinner a single time, and my house is still quite tidy.  Were it not for the exponential growth of my laundry pile and feeling like it'd be perfect if I could just dig a hole *in the actual mattress* and never come out again, this would have been one of the best weeks ever.

Despite my illness, the world does go on.  Billa has barely noticed than I am under the weather, and with callous disregard for my sore throat remains dedicated to the all-important task of ensuring that we meet our reading quota of 87,000 books per day.  She loves to crawl up onto the kitchen table, and seems genuinely surprised (and dismayed) when I make her get down every single time.  She continues to make unorthodox clothing choices, such as wearing Daddy's socks on her feet and her own socks on her hands.

Our current family project is the summer vegetable garden.  We started small last year growing grape tomatoes, basil, and banana peppers in pots on our deck, and it was a smashing success, so this year we are aiming higher and having big garden boxes in our backyard.  Bryan and my brother-in-law built them on Saturday.  Here's a before picture of the lumber and the trillion bags of dirt:

For my sick self, the best part of the project was that the children - who love to be outside almost more than they love their own mothers - "helped" all afternoon, and I got to take a nice long nap.  I did miss a little bit of cuteness:

Okay, a lot of cuteness.

But I'm fairly certain that my nap will result in my recovering 5-6% earlier, so it was worth it.

Waaah.  I need some more analgesic.  I'll be back soon-ish, k?

"Bih-ba" means "Billa"

This is for Lindsay, who asked so nicely yesterday.  Happy Two Years as a Catholic, Lindsay!

One-Point-Five

Camilla was eighteen months old yesterday.  Time flies, I can't believe how fast she's growing up, and all that, blah blah blah.  But seriously, people.  I can quite distinctly remember reading that infant fussiness generally peaks around two months and thinking that's nice, but it is irrelevant since we will never make it to two months.  And yet we did, and we kept making it through another two months, and another, and now one whole year and another half year are gone.  We'll never have those eighteen months again, and meanwhile our baby has grown into a full-fledged toddler.

The challenges of parenting a toddler make me think of that song the nuns sing about Maria in The Sound of Music: how do you catch a cloud and pin it down?  how do you keep a wave upon the sand?  Parenting a toddler is like what I would imagine it would be like to have full-time care of a tornado.  A demanding, whiny tornado with zero sense of other people's personal space.

Pick me up, Mama.  Like, now.  Since when does your lap belong to you?

Fortunately said tornado is also an adorable chatterbox, has an endless capacity for mimicry and fun, and is the freaking light of our lives.

Sure, my the number of wearable, non-stained items in my closet has shrunk considerably:

I am not to be blamed, Mama.  You're the one who had the lapse in judgment and gave me chocolate.

But, as is often the way with such things, my heart has grown in proportion.

I don't think it's really necessary to mention that I would do ANYTHING for this girl.

Despite the fact that I often meet Bryan at the door at 6:00 with a request to please, get this child out of my hair so I can get something done around here, I am having more fun parenting Billa at this age than ever before. 

Some things I know I'll want to remember years from now:

- Many months ago Bryan started a game where he'd sing the Jaws theme, "do-DOO, do-DOO," while moving his hands toward Camilla to tickle her.  She loves it, and recently she's learned that she can "tickle" us.  She runs up, makes the do-DOO sound, and then wiggles her fingers on our stomachs while we laugh obligingly.

- The talking.  Oh, I LOVE the talking.  Last week she learned to say her own name ("Bih-ba") and I thought I might die from the cuteness.  And it's very convenient to have her actually able to communicate with us.  If you're a child-development geek like I am, here's a list (published from the Google document I keep ongoing, as much as it kills me to admit it) of most of the words she knows right now.

- She's started demanding certain articles of clothing.  I was expecting this at some point, but was surprised that it starts this early.  I'll get Billa dressed in a perfectly good shirt and pants, and she's all, "Dess! Dess!" and "Shoes! Shoes!" and wants to pick them herself, and sometimes she ends up wearing truly bizarre combinations.  I should take a picture sometime. 

- Camilla likes to act like a baby.  Like, literally.  She'll climb into my lap and say "Baby, baby?" and squirm until I'm holding her cradled in my arms, and I say, "Oh, the sweet baby," and squeeze her and she's absolutely delighted.  Sometimes she gets a blanket and a pillow and I tuck her in and rub her back and call her my baby and she's so excited, she squirms and writhes and every few seconds her head pops up and we do the whole thing over again.  I find it adorable that she wants to pretend to be a baby; she still IS a baby to me!

- Watching the relationship between Milla and Daniel grow is so much fun.  They will never remember not knowing each other, but I remember when they were too young to notice each other, and now they are growing into friends.  Milla starts agitating for "Nan-yo" the minute we pull into my sister's subdivision, and the squeals when the two toddlers see each other are not to be believed. 

There was silence, never a good sign, but for once they were up to nothing bad - just eating waffles behind the couch.  And surprisingly happy to see the camera.

There are also some things I WON'T want to remember years from now:

- Cutting ten teeth over the course of the last few months.  The final canines have almost popped through, and when they do... I'm thinking the Australians will be able to hear my sigh of relief.

- Never, ever sleeping a full night.  Not ever, not even once, and no sign of it on the horizon.  That is all.

Oh, but she is so incredibly worth it.

I also want to remember how soft and sweet that head is.

Ten to One Meme

Someone gives you TEN million dollars, but you have only TEN weeks to spend it or it's lost (and it can't be invested in any sort of accounts - you've got to spend it on services or material things).  What TEN things do you do with it?
1.  Buy my dream house and houses for my family members, plus cars.  No boats, though!  Boats are a waste of money.
2.  Make big ol' charitable donations.  Lots of them.
3.  Rent a villa in the Italian countryside ('cause I've always wanted to go to Italy) and spend a month there with Bryan and Camilla and my parents, siblings, and nephew, luxuriating in the freedom to do nothing but enjoy each other's company.
4.  Make a list of all the rare books I've read or wanted to read in my life, then hire someone to find them on the Internet for me.
5.  Buy some really beautiful handbags, shoes, and clothes.
6.  Hire a sous-chef to do prep and clean-up so I could cook my little heart out, hassle-free, in my gorgeous new kitchen.
7.  Spend a lot of money on kitchen equipment, linens, drapes, wall hangings, and other domestic appointments.
8.  Hire a cleaning service that does contracts, then pay ahead for as much time as they'll let me.
9.  Get new computers for the whole house, plus a huge amount of money on my iTunes account, more than I can ever spend in this lifetime.
10.  Use the remainder of the money to buy some beautiful and very valuable jewelry, which I can sell off as I need more cash. 

(Ha!  I cheated.)  (Um, cheated on my own challenge that I MADE UP.  I am awesome.)

You may only own NINE books for the rest of your life.  What are they?
1.  Bible (Ignatius-published RSV)
2.  Prayer book
3.  Catechism
4.  The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien
5.  Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis
6.  The Most of P.G. Wodehouse (with my favorite Wodehouse story ever, "Uncle Fred Flits By")
7.  Dave Barry's Greatest Hits (only because they don't have a complete DB collection, and this is my favorite of his individual books)
8.  Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery (because it is my favorite of the Annes, although it kills me not to include all eight of them)
9.  Heaven to Betsy, by Maud Hart Lovelace (the first of the high school Betsy books and my favorite, although again I'd love to include them all if I could)

Name EIGHT moments in your life that you're proud or happy to remember.
In chronological order, because I'm fussy like that:
1.  Winning the county science fair in eighth grade.  (Dorky, sheesh.)
2.  My first date with Bryan.  We were so young and had our whole life together ahead of us, and it's just kept getting better since.
3.  My high school quiz bowl team winning the regional tournament when I was captain my senior year.  (Oh dear.  Did you guys know my dorkiness was quite this extreme?)
4.  Our wedding, of course.
5.  Putting the finishing touches on my bachelor's thesis.  I was incredibly relieved in that moment.
6.  Graduating from Ave Maria.  I am proud even now that I was strong enough to switch schools, major in theology, and get the education that was best suited for me personally, instead of doing the practical thing and staying at Big University.
7.  Seeing a second line for the first time ever.
8.  Camilla's birth, especially the moment when she came out and I got that huge rush of oxytocin-induced euphoria.

List SEVEN tasks you'd be happy never to have to do again.
1.  Changing a stinky diaper on a toddler.  Not so bad on a baby, but as Paul Reiser puts it, dealing with a toddler diaper is somewhat akin to changing the pants on a hobo.
2.  Cleaning up vomit at 3:00 AM.  Or any other time AM or PM, for that matter.
3.  Laundry.  Laundry is a never-ending chore.
4.  Peeling/chopping/grating vegetables and fruits.  I abhor that kind of food prep.
5.  Clipping Camilla's fingernails and toenails.  Oh, the trauma.
6.  Cleaning the bathroom.  If anyone ever markets a self-cleaning toilet or bathtub, I am SO THERE.
7.  Picking up the neighbors' dogs' poop from OUR yard.

Name SIX of your own acquired skills or personality traits of which you are proud.  (Brag on yourself, dude!  Own it!)
1.  My writing ability
2.  Excellent attention to detail
3.  The ability to read quickly
4.  Having a critical and logical mind
5.  A strong sense of empathy
6.  My mad test-taking skillz

List FIVE movies you have seen at least FIVE times and/or would be willing to watch at least FIVE times in the future.
1.  Sabrina (the newer one with Harrison Ford) (swoon)
2.  You've Got Mail (interestingly, I don't love Sleepless in Seattle, but the Ryan/Hanks partnership in this movie makes me incredibly happy)
3.  Center Stage (shuddup)
4.  Love Actually (oh dear, I do have cheesy taste in movies)
5.  The Incredibles

Name FOUR features of your own body that you like.
1.  Blue eyes
2.  Long fingers
3.  Teeth (mine are naturally straight)
4.  Ankles

List THREE pieces of your furniture you'd like to replace.
1.  Our bed.  I love our bed, but it's a queen and a king would be so much nicer.
2.  Our living room sofa.  It's in perfectly good shape, but it's not quite my style.  If we replaced it, we could move it to the home office and get rid of the hideously uncomfortable futon that's down there.
3.  The tub chairs in our living room.  They're surprisingly nice and comfortable for hand-me-downs, but they're a little dated.

Name TWO skills and/or personality traits which you are still developing.
1.  The ability to forgive more easily.
2.  Patience.

Find (or recite if you're just that good) ONE quotation that expresses something you find profoundly true.
"There are only two kinds of people: those who accept dogmas and know it, and those who accept dogmas and don't know it." - G.K. Chesterton

THE END!  I won't tag anyone, but do the meme yourself if you feel like it, in whole or in part, on your own blog or in the comments section here.  I'd love to read your responses!

Random Drunkity-ish

Time for a happy, humorous post.

First, though, I have to mention how awesome it is that there was such a great response to my last post.  Please go to big Emily's site and keep up on little Emily and her story, and keep praying!

So we've been in DC since Friday and we're leaving tomorrow.  Boo says SoCo (and me).  Tonight we have been drinking incredibly strong margaritas and now we are feeling the effects.

Here is a picture of the elusive and anonymous SoCo.  If you already know her, perhaps you will recognize her by her eyebrow.

Look at us in our pajamas!  With our drinks!  Yumyum.

Here are the limes Mr. SoCo used to make the margaritas.  If you already know him, perhaps you will recognize him by his hands.

Perhaps not.

We've been having a fabulous time here in the more southern yet not truly southern (says SoCo who is truly Southern) part of the United Stes.  This in spite of the fact that the liberally-gag-reflexed Milla threw up all over her mother at 2:00 am Saturday, then again at breakfast.  Just a little bug; she's fine now.

Incidentally, the baby has learned to say our dear hostess's name, thus winning her heart forever.

We just agreed that men's feet are weird.  Isn't this so true?

Please do not be offended if you are actually a man.

We're watching some basketball game.  Apparently it is the NCAA tournament finals; this is what they tell me anyway.  I am somewhat intrigued by the commercials.  Because we don't have a tv I rarely see commercials.  They seem more sophisticated than the ones I caught at friends' houses in my school days.

They have excellent frozen custard in Virginia.

Speaking of the basketball game, the cheerleaders are astonishingly scantily dressed.  Is this the norm among college cheerleaders?  When did it become mandatory to show midriff?  If anyone has inside information on this topic, please enlighten.

I love Steve Carell.  He is just wonderful.  I can't for The Office to start this week.

Okay, SoCo is going to write now.  She's going to say y'all, because that is what she does.

* * * * *
Hmmm.  Now I feel compelled to somehow write "y'all" into the bloggity goodness.  Arwen was asking me yesterday or the day before what kinds of things Southerners say.  (She sounds practically Canadian, by the way.  It's adorable and hilarious.)  I told her that we say:
*  Y'all-- because the English language lacks a second-person plural. 
*  "Fixin' to"-- as in, "I'm fixin' to make dinner" or "I'm fixin to go to the store."  I don't know why we do this, but we do.
*  "Bless his/her heart"-- you can more or less say anything negative about someone else, provided that you follow it up with "bless his/her heart."  Example:  "His ears really do stick out, don't they?  Bless his heart . . . ."  Or, "She's not the brightest bulb on the porch, is she?  Bless her heart . . . ."  (Optional if you're referring to a man:  "Poor bastard" instead of "bless his heart.")
*  My mother says, "I reckon," but I really don't. 

Arwen wants me to tell you how very tall she is.  I'm not sure why, but she is a lovely statuesque goddess-type woman.  I think she recently decided that she'd pay $10,000-- possibly $15,000-- to be 5'5".  As a 5'5" person, I'm not sure it's so great.  I feel like there are definite benefits to being tall, like being able to see over people's heads in the movies or at Mass. 

Additionally, everyone should immediately invite Arwen down for a visit, because she'll cook delicious food for you.  She has made us French toast, King Ranch casserole, sausage/tomato cream pasta, and yummy broiled shrimp.  Oh, and bread.  I think my husband may leave me for Arwen over the bread. (Of course, if you invite Mr. SoCo over, he'll make you delicious cocktails, which may even be better than food.  This weekend, he made us Singapore Slings and margaritas.)

Okay, back to Arwen for sign-off. 

* * * * *

Okay, the game (March Madness or something like that?) is almost over.  I maintain that with any sport, it's really only necessary to watch the last couple of minutes.  I challenge anyone to prove that statement wrong.

Also, college basketball players are rather scarily and excessively tattooed.

Pray that the baby sleeps well tonight, y'all.  With this head, I really, really need her to.