Teh Sick

change this to sick blog
is that all I write about?
WTF you germs

Now that we have H1N1 checked off the list, we can check off strep, too. Well, the wee one has strep. Ike-a-saurus' strep test isn't back yet. The tiny man also enjoyed a pertussis swab today. Ever had one of those? The (apologetic) doctor has to ram a flexible metallic q-tip apparatus so far up your baby's nose you begin to worry that maybe there is a brain jar sitting on the shelf and that your (apologetic) doctor is actually a skilled ancient Egyptian.

Two weeks until the pertussis test comes back, though we all agree it's a huge shot in the dark. No one was pleased to hear the sound of a wounded dog coming from Ike-a-saurus' trach this morning as he coughed, though, so we figured it was better to be safe than sorry as far as testing goes.

Not so much fun around the Haiku of the Day household over the past few days.

As exciting as it is to see your pediatrician gown up and try to see how far up your kid's nose he can get before touching brain, it is not something I would like to repeat. I think Ike-a-saurus is with me on this.

Something else we've learned today… Ike enjoys drinking thickened chicken broth mixed with olive oil from his bottle. Weird kid! But I'm glad he's eating.

In other news: the wee one will not eat any chicken broth, thickened or no. He, in fact, will only eat strawberries and goldfish crackers with the occasional pain reliever tossed in for good measure.

In other, other news: that sound you just heard was me falling to the ground in an exhausted heap.

This is going to be bitch of a cold and flu season, isn't it? And word on the street (or rather, word from the Infectious Disease doctor with the awesome cowboy boots) is that RSV season hasn't even started yet.

Anybody have a bubble handy? Preferably sanitized from when John Travolta was in it? I don't have any money, but I can trade you some hand sanitizer and maybe a N95 face mask. Let me know.

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Rite of passage

crumpled up money
face barely above counter
independent boy

I took the wee one to Game Stop today to buy a video game. He had his money out, knew which game he wanted, asked the clerk to help him find it, paid for it and was ready to leave before I could even get my bearings inside the store.

How have I spawned this confident kid? Not just confident, but grown-up. I can go through the archives of this blog and read about potty-training him. I can read about breast-feeding him. And now, he's marching through video game stores, all, "Excuse me, can you help me find Lego Indiana Jones for the Wii? Great. Thanks!"

WTF?

Not only that, he comes home, masters the game and asks for some Tums for his sour stomach. He has gone from toddler to 65-year-old man with FTL speed.

In short: He is old, I am old, and I am never going to get a chance to play Rock Band again because Indiana Jones has taken over the Wii.

Helpful advice

To the person who just found my blog by searching "infant spaghetti stuck nose" I say, take the side of the nose without the spaghetti and pinch it good and shut.

Then, lean over and blow in your kid's mouth. You might want to wear eye protection.

You're welcome.

Dear People Who Comment on the Statesman Website,

I didn't even know you could get an internet connection on a high horse! That's awesome!

And I guess it must be pretty hard to type while your horse is bounding through Everyone But Me Is An A-Hole-ville. That must explain all the typos, huh? I'm bounsing my nees rihgt now to try and simulayt a horseride nad your tottaly rihgt. It is hrad to tipe!

I can also see how spell check is next to impossible. I mean, it's probably hard to proofread the things you type when you're so busy taking in all of the perfectly landscaped, HOA-approved Everyone But Me Is An A-Hole-ville scenery. All of those well-conditioned gainfully employed people riding on their equally gorgeous high horses. Never talking on their mobile phones while they ride their horses, never riding their horses in the left lane, never finding themselves late to their non-superfluous, recession-proof jobs, always cleaning the microwaves when they're done cooking scent-free popcorn for their afternoon snack, never using public funds to do unmentionable things like feed or medicate their children… that's a lot to pay attention to! Who needs spelling?!

It's just amazingly unselfish of you to try to convince the rest of us how fantastic it is to live in Everyone But Me Is An A-hole-ville. Of course you're trying to protect us from ourselves. We've been so busy staggering around under the weight of our ridiculous social responsibilities and spell check applications, we hardly have time to notice that when your horses get excited they have little lavender-scented rainbow sharts. (So THAT'S what's on my computer screen?!)

Thanks for the lesson, People Who Comment On The Statesman Website. I must spend less time cleaning your high horse sharts off my computer, and more time… uh… seeking out my very own horse with wifi and no spell check? Trying to get a passport into Everyone But Me Is An A-Hole-ville?

I will totally get on that as soon as I have the kind of recession-proof job that allows me to spend the entire day on my computer posting anonymously to local newspaper message boards.

I will get.on.that.

In the meantime, don't let your horse get spooked by the cloven-hooved rat bastards who live in Actual World-ville. I hear they can be kind of grouchy. And also, they have spell check.

Sincerely,
Kari
Concerned Citizen

Everybody needs a hero

That title up there? That's the name of the panel I'm on at the Texas Book Festival this year!

So!

Excited!

I have a new blog up for my split personality, KA Holt. You can mosey on over there to read more about the panel, and the festival, and my supreme dorkiness, if you want.

I've always wanted to be able to participate in the fest as an author, and I'm pretty darn thrilled about it. Now I just have to figure out what to wear. And where to park. And what to say. And how to make sure the TiVo catches the whole Georgia-Florida game so that I can watch it when I get home.