OKay, so I finished my nausea, with several pounds less of me to love. Bonus! Immediately thereafter, Elias took sick with the croup. Indeed, it was one of these "episodes" in which I'm outside in my pajamas, bare feet melting prints on the frosty bricks, trying to get the little bundled one breathing clearly again without calling the EMTs. I'm so tired of this!! So I got him in to the doctor (this was on Monday) and he got the steroids I've grown to appreciate so much. He was sick off and on all week, an intermittent fever and cough. He had a fever at school on Wednesday, which is definitely frowned upon, and I had home home Thursday. Meanwhile, I began a steady descent into what is now a full-blown hacking, rotten chest cold of my own. If I was a three-pack-a-day smoker, that would about capture it.
I'm reminded of Woody Allen, who once said that he walks for fitness in New York: "It's a regimen designed to give me the lungs of a 19th century coal miner…" Yes, I think that's pretty much how I feel at present. (My dread at the moment is that Isaac will get it, and I think we've established that hacking chest things for him are like that only much, much more so.)
But in good health for now, Isaac and Daddy have gone out to a special event: The Creature From the Black Lagoon… in 3-D! An art house in Cleveland is showing it tonight, and they are up there having a dad-lad outing extraordinaire, including dinner at a grown-up restaurant beforehand! What lucky boys! Elias and I are home, with me staggering around and hacking, and him watching "Little Einsteins" repeatedly. He seems to plan on eating strawberries for all three courses of his dinner.
In other news, our so-called cat made an appearance. There was a sighting! The other morning I spied her at the edge of the woods. I had a few minutes so I trotted out there with some canned food. In typical fashion she ran away into the shadows and used her cloaking device. I left the food there and went on with my day, caring not too much at all about the outcome. Later on the kids and I walked out there to see if she had eaten the food. She hadn't. But one thing we discovered was that right where she disappeared was a very nice, cozy, cat-sized groundhog burrow among the roots of a tree. Maybe that's her second home? Anyway, much as I try to ignore it, I do find myself scanning the spot through the kitchen window, in hopes (dreads?) of spotting her again.
Also, at least it's spring. I'm thinking that we'll all be happier if she just becomes the local insane feral cat. Take a number! There are lots around here. I wish she were a competent cat, though, able to do this sort of thing without going on a prolonged hunger strike.
In any case, at least we have a back-up cat. Bagheera is wonderful, outgoing, playful, silky, affectionate, interactive, and in all ways a fine cat. He even uses his store-bought scratching post! My only complaint about him is that he's not helping with the mice problem all that much. A few weeks ago I gave him another trapped mouse. I immediately ran away, as I'm prone to do in this situation, so I can't say precisely what happened next. All I know was that I was quivering on the couch when I heard a sound upstairs similar to three grown men in a barroom brawl. After a long while I tentatively crept upstairs to see what was happening. What I deduced was that Bagheera had brought the live, fully hale mouse upstairs (to kill it in a more comfortable environment?) and then he'd lost it. He was fixated on getting into this tangled up vacuum cord, and I untangled it for him, but sadly there was no mouse in there.
Great! So now, far from killing the mouse, he released it in our bedroom!
So fast forward a couple weeks… Isaac and Ben were lying on the bed in our room reading Calvin and Hobbes, and I was getting ready for bed. At that moment I saw an unpleasant little rodent rush from dresser to chair. The same mouse? I can only assume. I brought Bagheera in to finish his work, but he was clueless/unable to follow through. I set the live trap there, but have gotten nothing. So now, bottom line, I can't put my feet on the floor in the dark. This is a real nuisance in the land of constantly night-waking. (I'm plagued by the insomnia of others.)
Oh well!