Signs That I am Losing My Mind

1. In a moment of weakness several weeks ago, I succumbed to Kate's fierce and persistent declarations that she wanted needed purple fairy curtains with a pink butterfly segment at the bottom. They are the ugliest curtains I have ever made. Note that they are not pictured here. Not only are they unsightly, but I have only completed one panel. And the curtain rod is still on Kate's floor. I am the queen of unfinished projects.

I also somehow ended up with fabric to make dresses for both girls.

2. Despite currently owning only a 2 person tent, I booked us (Tim, me, Kate, Claire, and Luke. At last check, this is 5 people) a campground at Lake Tahoe for Sunday night. We have never camped with children. Tim and I have not camped for approximately 10 years. The adults own proper camping gear, but the girls' sleeping bags have fairy and princess decorations and light up when the bags move. I am certain that they will be useless and ineffective in the much-cooler-than-we-are-used-to mountain air of the Sierra Nevadas. The boy one has no sleeping bag, and would be unlikely to nest in one if he did. I also fear that the boy one will be unlikely to sleep at all given the lack of containment device he knows as his crib.

3. We leave in 1.5 days. I have not packed more than shirts and shorts for myself, and have only managed to gather Kate's pajamas for the kids. We will be gone for 3 weeks, in weather that I presume will be vastly different than our current 110* highs/90* lows. We are all bound to be stunned by the cold that 55* mornings will bring.

4. I am blogging instead of packing.

Pavlov Visits the Hanoi Hilton, and a Casualty of War

Tim's war-fighting ammo.

We're done. At least, I hope we're done. Tim hasn't come down with this nasty bug yet, which means he probably will in say ... about 24 hours, right after he's done flying on Friday, right in time for the Squadron Christmas party on Saturday night, and right in time for us to start our latest project: Operation Remodel Master Bathroom.

But first. I did end up getting The Bug, but it wasn't nearly as bad for me as it was for Kate. I spent most of Tuesday night on the sofa so I wouldn't wake Tim up (little did I know he had no idea that I was even gone, he was so tired) every time I moved. I was in a sorry state until 4am when I finally got sick (sorry for the graphic timeline) and was able to sleep after that. I woke up at 7am, wondering if that was truly the time. Not a sound from Kate's room. Not a peep from Tim's room. I tried in vain to go back to sleep, and instead grabbed the remote and turned on the Today Show. Kate didn't wake up until around 8am (this from a 6:30am riser), and even then only wanted to lay on Tim. Luckily, he had the day off from flying, cancelled his 9am meeting and told me he could hang out at home for a few hours until I was better. Ha. He ended up home all day taking care of us.

We tried feeding Kate some breakfast, but she got sick. I called the on-call nurse and got in line for a call-back. Kate hadn't been able to keep much of anything down for more than 24 hours and we were a little worried. More napping on Tim's chest, and then she seemed a little better. Tim decided to feed her lunch, and I was down the hall getting dressed. I heard crying and knew what had happened. This time she got super sick, though, and Tim was overwhelmed by the amount of food that had been in her stomach. "Call the doctor back now." No messin' around with Daddy. I called. And someone actually talked to me, right then on the phone. I couldn't believe it. She told me that we weren't to give Kate anything for 2 hours, then start her on a teaspoon of clear liquid every 10-15 minutes. Then, if she could hold that down for 8 hours -are you kidding?- that we could start giving her small amounts of bland solids. Good God. That meant no solids until dinner time (later, really) and she already hadn't had anything to eat in like 2 days. Sounded like baby torture to me, but we decided that it was the only hope of getting Kate any better. And since there was only one pediatrician on base the whole day, we didn't have many options.

We put her down for a nap, and when she woke up, we started with the teaspoon every 15 minutes. She was pissed. I would have been too! She was starving, I was sure. Then, at about 4pm, I finally got a little hungry and made a piece of toast. I have never felt so much guilt in my life. I still feel bad, just thinking about how I was eating in front of her, and she had 3 hours to wait for a morsel of food. Mama Ho Chi Minh, here. When we finally got to the point where we could feed her food, it was a Kix every 2 minutes. Tim set his watch for 10 minutes, and everytime it went off, she'd get a teaspoon of Pedialyte and a Kix. I'm afraid she's going to hear alarms and think it's time to eat. Tim did such a good job with her, though, keeping her entertained while she waited for the next piece of cereal.

16 minutes worth of food.

The morning she got sick in her bed, she had all kinds of stuffed animals in there with her, including 'bu-eee' (bunny, duh). This is her favorite stuffed animal ever. My grandma got it for her when she was born, and it's super soft and plays a lullaby when you pull her string. I had to wash her the other day, though, and now I can't get the lullaby to work. Tim dissected her the other night, but to no avail. I stitched her back up last night and Kate hugged her and grabbed for her pull-string. Poor kid. But the bunny is as soft and clean as ever.

And, you'll be glad to know, after reading all this long-ness about Kate, that she is now eating many Kix at a time, and sucking down Pedialyte as fast as she can. And she's keeping it down. Whew.