BC is coughing nastily, phlegmily, croupily. fortunately, she has no temperature, so it might just be a crappy cold. but who knows. she has had croup already about 8 times in her life, and it is frightening every single damn time. she fights to breathe. it usually hits around 11pm, without fail. and then, the drill. i get the shower all steamy, BS takes her in the steam and lets her inhale the warm air while i put on warm clothes. then, i wrap her up as warmly as i can and take her out onto the deck into the cold night air, which somehow also helps her. for some reason, that is how it works. then, while i am outside, BS prepares the foldout bed in the sunroom. then, i bring in BC, who is thrilled to be spending the night in the sunroom sleeping with her daddy.

unless, of course, it is one of those nights where i can't help her to breathe. then, we have the delightful, middle-of-the-night emergency room experience. the one where it takes a long time to get her some assistance (because there are people with gunshot wounds or something probably more serious, i guess), and by the time she gets it, she is doing better. and then we wonder whether we should have brought her in in the first place. but you wouldn't want to not bring her in if she really, truly needed it.

parenthood is scarier than skydiving. my hair will be grey by the time i am 40.

just saw a video of BC that spans the years from when she is about 7 months old until she is 2.5.

at 13 months, she is batting herself around to smokey robinson's you've really got a hold on me. she had just learned to walk, so it is a sloooooow dance.

at about 18 months, i have her dancing to groove is in the heart, and boy, is it a goof. i have to move her arms around, lift her up, and all sorts of sly-looking moves.

at 2.5, she is twirling around the room to the bangles' hero takes a fall. all on her own.

now, it takes nothing at all to get her to dance. thus:
1) it is no surprise that i have raised jr. gene gene the dance machine; and,
2) i am, and i guess i can say i have always been, a little bit weirder than the other moms i know.

everyone else does. ::sigh::

i think i am going to have to put myself into emotional shut down for a bit. this is only temporary…

dear mattel,

i realize you are deep in the throes of trying to understand why little girls who are 7 are suddenly not interested in barbie. i would like to propose a theory. my daughter started receiving barbies when she was three. aw, we thought when she received her first, how funny. how cute.

then we tried to open the package and liberate barbie from her little box. once you carve your way into the box, you first have to get all those twisted metals things off her. then the zig-zag tape sewn through the box through her head that inevitably holds her hair down. then, little strings that hold down various other pieces.

it's insanity.

now, this december, my BC celebrated her birthday, chanukah, and christmas. she received several barbies and kens. i just completed freeing “happy birthday barbie,” her hair brush, the little cards and little present, from the package. it was not pretty.

so why do little girls lose interest in barbie by age 7? i'll tell you why. mom and dad just ain't going through the packaging anymore. they get them a game boy or something else and call it a day.

shit. i know i will.

today, BS, BC and i went for my ultrasound. through a stroke of luck, BS was able to join me there in the end, as his schedule is insane these days, and the snow storm totally screwed up everything more. anyway, i was a bit scared, as the last time i went to this place for an ultrasound, i was losing a baby. of course, when i walked in, i saw the technician who was there when i was losing the baby and having a rather unpleasant experience overall. i bit my lip and went in.

anyway, after BC made all the technicians laugh (“mama, i really love that dress you're wearing!” – yes, only my daughter loves little hospital gowns), we waddled in to the exam room. luckily, the technician there to help me today was a wonderful lady, very sweet and funny. she showed us our little boy in all his splendor (though it was tough to see his naughty bits as his umbilicle cord is going through his legs at the moment.) he was pretty silly, with his feet up by his face. (years of yoga would probably still not permit me the ability to do that.) one hand was behind his head, and the other was under his chin. he's just chillin' in there, i guess, and all he needed was a martini and he would be just fine. most importantly, his spine was fine, he measured just right for his age (roughly 18 weeks and 4-6 days, give or take), and he has a cute little nose, just like his big sister.

speaking of big sister, she was on a roll, per usual. i am so glad she was there, as the doctor who came in was the same guy who was there the day i was losing the baby. fortunately, as he had good news this time, and as BC was just being her giggly self (“my name is K-I-R-A!” she answered when asked her name.) of course, he gave her stickers, which she promptly affixed to BS's suit and to my belly.

little buddy is now due 6/3. but hell, he'll arrive when he is good and ready, and not when anyone expects, i am sure. and his sister, rocking out to green day's “basket case,” is going to be the coolest big sister ever.

…a major thanks goes out to scally, who listened to me whine and made me feel a whole lot better. considering my topic du jour is probably not one in his usual sphere of reference, he gets extra points in my book.

xoxo, buddy.

i was a quasi-single mother this weekend. BS had school on saturday and then suddenly had to go up and back to NJ on sunday to have a family photo taken despite being up sick the whole night before (don't ask.) so my exhausted self and i had the privilege and pleasure of hanging out with the bunster for two whole days.

saturday: i took the bunster to the kennedy center to see philadanco, a modern dance troupe from the city of brotherly love, perform a set of african-american flavored works. it was BC's first time at the kennedy center, so we both got dressed up, she in an ensemble which included just about every color you can imagine. i showed her the flags in the hall of the states, and we were sure to find those from virginia (our current home), new jersey (my real home), and wisconsin (her little boyfriend milo's home – not too hard to find, either, as the good people of WI apparently write WISCONSIN across their flag.) i then took her into the grand foyer, which is truly a grand foyer with entrances to the main theaters. she loved playing on the red plush carpeted stairs, and we looked at pictures of president kennedy and a huge sculpture of his head. “mama,” she said, “that's not him. he doesn't have HAIR!” my little critic.

then, since we were going to see a performance in the Terrace Theater, we went upstairs. i took her outside on the balcony and lifted her up, over my big old belly, so that she could see the Potomac, the bridge she crosses every day to go to school, and Georgetown (home of aunt maren). the wind was fierce. “mama,” she said, “this wind is going to blow us OVER!” we made a hasty retreat back inside, giggling.

the house was packed. considering i had comp'd seats (thanks to my “day” job), we really could see well. the show consisted of three different dances. the first, essentially an ode to Otis Redding, was astonishing. i was so pleased to show BC that a) men as well as women can become professional dancers; 2) you can dance to anything – it doesn't have to be classical music; and 3) dancers come in all shades. BC moved into my lap and basically danced the entire time Otis was on. the second work was about how african americans have taken a basic handshake and turned it into a cultural experience. the music ranged from the hokey pokey to be-bop and everything in between. also a great deal of fun, and BC was thrilled. the last work, “enemy at the gate,” was not as much of a pleaser. much more serious and abstract in tone, the dance was waaay above BC's head, and she was pretty much through by then. all in all, though, we had a delightful afternoon. and, i would like to point out that my kid behaved better in the theater than some adults who sat behind us and talked through the entire program. i very nearly gave them a time out.

sunday: thank G-d for my friend maren. i adore my time with BC, but lately, i get so very, very tired. a whole weekend solo is tough for me, as much as i enjoy it. m2K came over with her beads and proceeded to bead with, read to, and feed my kid with me. it doesn't sound like much, and certainly the snow made her visit a bit abbreviated, but it was such a welcome relief. BC is so fond of her, too. maren brought over two books she bought for BC for her birthday – one is called “contemplating your bellybutton” and it is a hoot. some people get exorcised because there are pictures of NAKED PEOPLE in the book! but hey, this type of thing really doesn't bother me or BS a whole lot, and the book is so funny. we will have to get its predecessor, “the gas we pass.”

anyway, we had plenty of quality playdoh and computer time. it was a day. but lord, i adore my kid.

i needed to know something for research for my novel, and BS pointed this out to me. i love it.

wayback machine

was just thinking about tom lehrer and this song.

BC: “mommy, you have a big butt. are you sure the baby isn't growing in there?”