These are a few pictures from Little Jay's birthday. He moved back home last September, and he's here only about half the time, if that. But it's also time when I'm not at work, so this has been just a pleasure having him here with us.
Until this night.
That's a lovely ceiling.
She's a force of her own, an insane little monster. When she gets riled up, p.j. pats her, tells her, "Leesy-Bear, Calm down. Just calm down." She's actually a very good big sister, patient, just amazingly patient, with a helpful sense of humor. (That cute baby has earned her Bear nickname, true.)
Anyway, the baby. She's almost a year old now, and is starting to talk already. When Sidney gets near the babies, or near me when I'm on the phone working, we have to tell her: Git.
She'd bite a baby who tried to manhandle her in any way. Plus when I am on the phone working, I can't have her going all Cujo, barking because someone walked past the house. Over a thousand cars a day drive past our house. When I say we live on a busy road, I'm not kidding. And there's a walking path behind our house in the park where probably a couple dozen people or more go by in a day. Sidney feels the need to alert us to things we do not care about.
So that's the word: "Git"
And she gits. Sidney hoofs it out of the room. Unless Maria is home. Then she hides behind Maria and will not git.
When I had it bite my finger she yelled, alarmed.
Well, that's not funny. That's scaring her. She frowned at us and growled, "Rarr."
My parents were both cracking up too. We were there yesterday too for lunch, and she started antibiotics for an ear infection and she was just crazy, screechy, manic, falling down constantly. Today she was better than yesterday, and this high chair thing happened at lunch, and I wadded up her jacket as a little pillow and we let her sleep.
And last week I had a tooth break. I've sunk a couple grand into this tooth over the years, two root canals, crowns, yeah. Well, the thing broke and the dentist talked to me about the options involving cadaver bone grafts and an implant and no.
No. He pulled it, and it was not a normal tooth, after 25 years and two root canals. It was a shell filled with dental cement, and it came out about that great. There was a lot of novocaine, mercifully, and pounding and grinding and yanking, and it was violent and a little surreal at some point.
I'm allergic to vicodin and ibuprofen, so he gave me prednisone and tramadol, which do nothing for infection, so a few days later when the swelling was tight and throbbing, we got that going.
I'm going to be okay, but it was so very, very un-fun.
April. That sleet and shit today, didn't like that. Sunday, the sunshine, sweeping the patio and setting up the picnic table? April, can you please work on more of that and less of March?