Why I Truly Got No Sleep This Week

Monday night: Headache + fight with Big Daddy.
Tuesday night: Full-on migraine + Big Daddy leaving until Friday.
Wednesday night: Storms + lightening-hit tornado siren 1/2 block away + Peanut bad dreams.
Thursday night: Blueberry vomit between 11pm and 3am in Peanut's bed, Mama's bed, bathroom, and all but two towels in the house.
Friday night: Muscle spasms in neck and shoulder from, and I'm guessing here, stress + more Peanut bad dreams
Saturday night: 12:45 am call that 92 year-old grandfather has vomiting and diarrhea at his assisted-living home. Would I like to come and get him or meet the transfer ambulance at the hospital? Easy answer to that one. No clear diagnosis when I give up at 5am and leave phone number with nurse, as grandfather is sleeping and I am not. They do not, of course, call to let me know he is admitted for what is apparently stomach virus with dehydration, so I end up waking up with a start and having to chase down someone to tell me what is going on (he's ok, it's just hard to get a virus when you are a frail nonagenarian).

Plus, the internet connection went screwy again as soon as Big Daddy went out of town.

I need a week at a spa. No, seriously, I really do.

No, I'm Not Kidding

Due to an emergency surgery and another surgery that took longer than expected, Peanut's procedure has been cancelled as of 3:45 pm. They'll call us back to reschedule. Everyone is very sorry, and we got a $10 gas card for our troubles.

Not that I am terribly disappointed that she is not the last surgery of the day on a Friday, but really, enough's enough. It's more frustrating, I think, because none of these cancellations are really anybody's fault. The doctor was in an accident, she got sick, someone else had some unfortunate calamity necessitating immediate surgery. I feel like I want to be pissed off at someone, but there isn't anyone it would be appropriate for. Which means, of course, it will end up being Big Daddy.

Peanut survived not eating just fine. We kept her up very late, going to Ella's Deli for chocolate ice cream and carousel rides around 10pm. She slept in, ate Jello for breakfast, and was an angel in the little room where we waited, dressing her stuffed llama up as the doctor and examining Mickey Mouse's leg. Less whiny that usual, actually. As soon as we were cancelled, she got chocolate, so at least for her, it wasn't a total waste of time.

I'm Not Normally One For Cussing, But...

They called with the surgery time. It's 3-fucking-10 pm, and she can't eat after midnight. She can have clear fluids and popsicles until 11 am. Fucking great.

So we're keeping her up as late as we can and feeding her pancakes until she explodes.

Shhhhh

We don't want to jinx anything. She could wake up today with a giant boil or something. But the surgery is rescheduled for tomorrow.

[walks away, humming because I can't whistle]

Geek Girl

Last night when we were driving home, we drove by a practice field where the Santa Clara Vanguards were practicing for the Drum Corps International World Championship, held here in Madison. Being a former band geek, if only briefly, (damn braces), I pulled over to let Peanut listen a little bit.

She was enraptured, saying "Music! They're playing music!" After a minute or two listing to the tubas, I hear from the backseat, very quietly, "Play Twinkle Little Star? Please play Twinkle Little Star?"

After sadly informing her that I didn't think they took requests, I told her that back in the day, Mama played trumpet in a band too. She turned and looked at me with a face similar to what I would imagine seeing if I had just informed her that she was getting a new baby brother, and his name was Elmo. Her jaw literally dropped open. Before I could bask too long in the admiration, the music started again, and she sat in her seat, pretending to toss the flags in the air like the girls on the field, until they took a break and we drove home.

Imagine how excited she'll be when I tell her that Mama also used to spend Saturday nights playing role-playing games.

She's 2.5 Years Old On Friday

She sang Old McDonald to me all the way home yesterday (Did you know he keeps unicorns? They neigh).
She used a banana peel to make "hair" for her stuffed cat.
She is obsessed with playacting, and will use whatever is handy to create characters, which have included Mama Hand and Daddy Toe. Or she'll make the stuffed cat moo if a cow is necessary to the story but not available.
She loves all the Beatrix Potter stories.
She can identify clown fish, angel fish, butterfly fish, tang fish, eels, crabs, shrimp, seahorses, jellyfish, octopi, swordfish, three kinds of whales, three kinds of sharks, and groupers. We have to do Google Image Searches for grouper every time she sees a computer.
She has memorized her going-to-the-potty book (among others) but has no interest in actually using the potty herself.
She makes up her own versions of the Wonderpets theme song, with WonderPeanut as the star of the show.
She will only use her new walker if we bribe her with M&Ms.
All her stuffed animals can fly, and they are happy to teach each other this skill.
When I said to her, "I said NO!" the other day, she defiantly replied, "I said YES!"

It's going to be a long 15.5 years. Thank God.