Well. Hi! It's been awhile. ENTIRE DAYS, since I last rapped at ya. Probably an unprecedented number of days. (Unless you count all the writing I've done here and here and here and even some writing that will hopefully actually appear printed on an actual piece of for-real paper and no, I'm not just talking about when my mom prints out blog entries that she likes.)
(No, not a book. I would very much like to write a book, but I seem to lack someone stepping in and saying "WRITE A BOOK ABOUT THIS SPECIFIC TOPIC AND HERE, HAVE SOME MONEY." That used to happen, didn't it? But not anymore, I don't think. Anyway, point is, time, publisher interest, attention span. I am zero for three.)
I had perfectly good reasons for not updating, but sadly none of them were particularly interesting. At least not in a AND THEN MY OVEN CAUGHT ON FIRE sort of interesting. I was...busy. Ish. Ezra had his three-year check-up and he's oviously fine and great and fine. Only thing of note is that he moved out of the 10th percentile for weight into the 25th, and it took all damn morning to learn that because the office was running behind. We both got our flu shots, and immediately came down with colds.
Then yesterday started with a pre-dawn text message from the babysitter informing me that she had the runs. (What can I say? We're very close.) I learned that if you butcher the word "diarrhea" enough on your phone you can eventually get it to auto-correct to "daria hee" which I thought was funny.
I also learned that I cannot get a lick of ANYTHING done anymore, when I'm on my own with this one:
HEH, SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT. N'MIND.
(I WILL EAT YOUR TO-DO LIST AND YOUR SOUL.)
I thought the appearance of the tooth nubs would mean an end to Baby Ike's suddenly unpredictable sleep schedule. (He went from sleeping from 9 to 7 every night to sleeping from ^&#(P to ~iU$W, which translates to WHO THE FUCK KNOWS.) But alas, not so. The teeth are there and pointy, but still in that weird in-between stage where his gums occasionally swell up and over them, so he's trapped in a semi-permenent loop of cutting and re-cutting the same stupid teeth. Which does not please him. Or me. Or my boobs.
The past two nights have presented a new problem though, and if you don't mind I'd like to pick any fellow cloth-maniacs' brains about it: Ike is a very heavy wetter. INSANELY HEAVY. Which hardly seems fair at all, what with our ongoing adventures in turbohork, like wouldn't it make sense that he's barfing up the excess right from the start so there should be less to pee out later? I mean, I know I'm no doctor of human digestivenatomy or whatever, but I feel like he should pick one overactive exit and stick to it.
But anyway! I'd devised a nighttime diapering solution that worked (bamboo fitted with doubled-over-in-front heavy-duty soaker, extra hemp insert, wool cover) so we don't have any leakage problems...but we do have waking-up-from-an-uncomfortably-cold-and-wet-diaper problems. Like around 4 am, which is also displeasing, especially since Ike always wants to party after procuring fresh pants, rather than go back to sleep. (And yes, I've tried disposables. Leaks, rash, diaper filled past bursting point well before the night is over, no thanks.) Ideas? Add a layer of fleece for wicking? Some other kind of insert/doubler that might keep him from feeling how wet he is? Benadryl? An adult dose or so?
Ezra would like to thank y'all for the birthday wishes. Or he would, if I told him to. Ezra, say thank you! Tank yoo. Ezra, say thank you very much! Tank u vurry much. Ezra, say slap that ho like she owes you money! Sap dat ho where my money. HA! Honey, did you videotape that? Yes? Good.
Three year olds are fun.
Unless you're the one informing them that your restaurant ran out of his favorite meatballs ON HIS BIRTHDAY.
(But all will be forgiven as long as there are still cupcakes.)