You know that scene in Parenthood
when Steve Martin gently asks his daughter, "Do you feel like you want to throw up?" and she replies, "Okay!" and her head spins around, covering the room in vomit? Put Peter in place of Steve, and Kelsey for (um, little girl who also starred in Curly Sue & whose name completely escapes me) his daughter, and move the action to our foyer. To think we thought yesterday that Kelsey was on the mend...
She had a bit of a cold earlier in the week, and stayed home from school on Wednesday. I tried to also keep her home yesterday, but she was perky as could be, and adamant about attending school. She likes it (an alien concept for me). She slept in a bit, went to school, and all was fine. Well, until this morning when I felt someone hovering over me and woke up to her mumbling that her stomach hurt in a rather nondescript way (this could mean anything from a small amount of gas to being ready to pass out from pain). We went downstairs, Peter harangued her a bit about her outfit, and without further ado, she let him (well, the foyer) have it.
Nothing like spending your 'sleeping in' time (Pete was off today, and told me to sleep in ....HA!) cleaning a cold, hard ceramic tile on your hands and knees. Though I recall being that sick as a kid, and there isn't much else that causes that unique type of discomfort. Remembering how many times my mom probably cleaned up worse (and in the middle of the night), promptly grounded me and kept that gag reflex at bay. I tucked her into the couch and was relieved to see that she was too sick to go to school, but not too sick to watch TV. Now I know you are thinking, but what about that trip we are supposed to take oh, tomorrow?
We still plan on leaving in the late morning, however, the Basket Brigade plans are on hold/being modified. In all likelihood, Cait and Peter will deliver the goods, but we will not be wrangling. Kelsey is still feverish, and while a few hours resting in the car is fine, I don't want her getting sicker (or anyone else ill) at the Brigade. So, we will make up for our absence by increasing our donation. I wish it weren't the case, but better that than we make an emergency exit , and delay our departure time even more.
Where are we going? It has probably completely slipped my mind to mention much about the trip, because I have done such a poor job of planning, and I would really like to ignore that fact. We are SO last minute on this vacation, but did manage to get a few good deals, including a heavily discounted Disney entrance and free Legoland tickets (thank you, thank you, Auntie Lisa!!). We are making a quick tour of Southern California, to include San Diego (Legoland! The zoo!), Anaheim (Disneyland!), and the general Los Angeles area (Hollywood! A boardwalk/beach! An amazing Thanksgiving dinner!). We also hope to catch up with a friend or two while on the way back home, and perhaps even stop at a winery (I know, perhaps my rear end...).
With all that's going on, I still managed to remember that Little Guy is 21 months old today. Probably soon we will just mention the years (I have said that before, haven't I?), but given how much more of a Little Guy he has become, I feel I should write something (God knows, the journal isn't getting much of a workout these days). I can never remember to write down all of his words, but here is a smattering (hopefully some new): da-da (truck), choo-choo, please, thank you (which he says without prompting), hello (sounds like HEH-whoa?), Lemmeesee, What's that, who's that, ahfoo (airplane), bad cat, phone (phone), and the list goes on.
He has a newly discovered love of trucks and trains, and runs them up and down the couch, the stairs, the shoe rack, the car seat, and if he can't find the one he wants, he will make one. He has made trains (and highways) out of boxes and puzzle cubes. He pushes them into shape and around the room with the appropriate choo-choo noise. Who needs a train table when you have an extremely active imagination? Though I can't say we aren't toying with the notion, as I have a feeling it would get a lot of use.
He seems to have outgrown the tiny bit of "terrible twos" he had a few weeks ago which involved a brief pacifier stealing and hitting phase. We certainly understood the pacifier part (he would never take one, didn't know what it was, and had a sudden intense interest), but had to briefly avoid the gym daycare til we were sure the hitting bit had passed. We nipped it in the bud quickly, and thankfully, smooth sailing for the time being (I won't say never again...). There was also a touch of biting, but thankfully (?), he saved that one for me, and me alone.
Today was a bit nutty and exciting*, and didn't remember to get a snapshot until he was asleep. So, here we have LG conked out when he was almost 21 hours old, and now as he is 21 months old. A wee bit of a difference, wouldn't you say?
*Cait was pulled aside after choir (at the church) tonight, and asked to do the lead in the church Christmas play.