A Child Who Throws Up in Church is a Get Out of Mass Free Card

Well, we decided that we would go to Burlington on Saturday ostensibly to allow me to get the girls' Halloween costume material since we no longer have a JoAnn Fabrics store here, but we decided to make a full day of it. It was rainy although not freezing cold out. We ended up catching the ferry about 11:20 a.m. and it was busy. Could it be that everyone in Plattsburgh decided to go to JoAnn Fabrics this day? It seemed that way to me, because not only was the ferry packed, the highways in Vermont were busy, too. On Friday, Jack and I talked about the possibility of going to see "Ratatouille" at one of two screens still showing the Pixar movie in Burlington. One show started at 1:10 p.m. and the other at 1:30, but I couldn't remember which. I took a chance and picked the Majestic in Williston because even if it was the 1:10 show, there were plenty of places to choose to go to lunch beforehand. Well, we got to Williston at 12:25, so we went to Ponderosa to feed the kids off the salad bar, which isn't too bad, and it was quick. I said we got to Williston at 12:25. The traffic in Williston was outrageous. It was pouring out, Jack was driving and we had the strong possibility of being very late (not a good combination). We made some bad choices -- like getting out of the left-hand turn lane thinking we could turn around and approach it from the opposite direction. That only threw us in even more traffic. But we got there in time to wolf down some salad bar stuff, and we got there at the right time because as we were leaving the restaurant, the line was going out the door. I got vague directions to the Majestic, which was somewhere across the street in the new Maple Tree Place shopping complex, and we headed out. We would be just in time for the 1:10 movie if I could find the place. We had decided it would be in everyone's best interest if I were to drop Margaret, Patricia and Dad off for the movie and take Brigid with me to JoAnn's because she was a) in need of a nap; b) would not sit through the movie; and c) I didn't want to subject Jack to JoAnn Fabrics shopping. I found the theater by sheer luck and then, by very sheer luck it turned out that "Ratatouille" was the 1:30 show, so they had plenty of time.

Brigid and I then made our way down to JoAnn's in South Burlington, which wasn't hard once we got through the melee of Williston. It was remarkably easy traffic until we got to JoAnn's. The parking lot of the plaza was crazy, and the fabric store was even worse. I said before I thought the whole of Plattsburgh was shopping there, and I did, indeed, see a few people from Plattsburgh in the store! Brigid was being very well behaved considering she was drop-dead tired and, unbeknownst to me, had soaked through her diaper and I had left the diaper bag in the car. I found some appropriate fabrics for the costumes and found the cutting table only to discover a line of 40 people long waiting to have fabric cut. I got in line but didn't know if I'd have to abandon my quest because of a screaming baby -- and I'm talking about myself. Brigid was great. We pointed out things in the store, she asked about all the figures on bolts of fabric nearby, and the line moved its way toward the cutting counter. When it was our turn, she decided to cry and scream. But we were out of there quickly once the fabric was cut. I got her back in her car seat where she started to really cry -- sure sign of her need for a nap -- and I headed back to Williston even though the movie wouldn't be out for another hour. She fell asleep moments later, so I just parked in the parking lot by the Christmas Tree Shop, which is in front of the movie theater. I dozed a little myself while we both listed to Lullaby Magic. She woke up in time for me to get her out into the rain and into the Christmas Tree Shop just to find the bathroom where I needed to change her very soggy diaper. We made it to the theater not long after Dad and the girls had emerged, full of enthusiasm for the movie. Jack and I decided earlier in the day that we would extend the fun-filled afternoon to include a trip to the girls' favorite indoor amusement spot, Pizza Putt, for some fun and then dinner. They didn't know where we were going until we pulled into the parking lot and Patricia and Margaret let out a collective whoop. Once again, timing is everything, and Pizza Putt on a rainy Saturday afternoon is the place to go. The place was crammed with screaming, running kids. The two older girls took off for the play place and Daddy, Brigid and I found the kiddie ball pit, which Brigid loved on and off between climbing out and making a mad dash for the play place. The girls played for about 45 minutes (long enough) and we headed over to the restaurant for dinner. Brigid wasn't too interested in eating; she showed her true Downs' girl form by wanting merely to dip her cukecumber in ranch dressing over and over again, sucking it off the vegetable. After dinner, we let the girls play a round of mini-putt before calling it a day and heading home. Both Patricia and Margaret gave us enthusiastic thanks for a very fun day.

Brigid was down for the count by 9 p.m. but woke up about 11:30 or so crying. I went in to find her half asleep but very full of poop. I changed her and cleaned her up and got her back to sleep in her crib. She joined us in our bed about 5 a.m. and seemed very warm to me, but I thought it might just be because she had been snuggling under the blankets with us. I checked her a few times in the morning but couldn't tell if it was me or her. We got to church -- the girls were altar servers -- and she was in a wonderful mood, even after throwing up on Jack during the homily -- no reflection on "Uncle John," her godfather and homilist, Fr. John. We whisked her out and cleaned her up then Daddy took her home and I went back for the rest of the mass. When we got home, she was lying listless in Dad's arms watching TV. She took an hour-long nap afterwhich she spent an hour sleeping on me. I had some grocery shopping to do, so Patricia sat with her in the living room watching Buzz and Woody. When I returned, she had fallen back to sleep in Patricia's arms, where she stayed probably another hour. When she woke up crying the cry of a feverish sick baby, I gave her some Advil and she perked up almost immediately. She hadn't eaten anything to speak of so she had a few crackers and some sips of water and didn't throw up again. She had a little dinner with us, and then just hung out watching some of her favorite programs, like Blues Clues.

Margaret was immersed in her science project -- collecting 25 sets of leaves, identifying them and writing interesting information about each specimen. She then had to go to religious education class, so she took her bike (big responsibility because she'd be returning in the dark). She returned unscathed and somewhat excited about the privilege she had been given. She did some more work on her leaves, the project is due Oct. 30, and then she and Patricia went to bed, leaving me with Brigid who was not ready to fall asleep. I finally got her to bed about 9:15, but she sat in her crib babbling away -- not really crying, but talking and calling out. She fell asleep just before 10. She did wake up again about 2 a.m. and came into bed with us. We were concerned because of the fever. She slept until 8 a.m. and woke up with a fever, which we treated with Tylenol. She's home with Daddy right now, so we'll see how she does this morning. If the fever doesn't go away by this afternoon, I'll call the doctor's office to see if they want to see her. In the meantime, I have three Halloween costumes to make, all before Wednesday. Is anyone surprised?

C'mon, Her Vocabulary is Waiting

Brigid’s vocabulary has been exploding and her delight in the change is evident. She truly enjoys saying new things and, when her temperament allows, will happily repeat words you suggest or tell you the word for whatever you point out if she knows it. She’ll even perform for others, so we’re thinking of going on the road and hiring her out to entertain at dinner parties and shopping malls. Yesterday she started saying, “C’mon, c’mon,” when she wanted me to follow her into the living room. “C’mon. Woody…” she said, indicating she wanted me to follow her into the living room and put the Toy Story video in. Shrek has taken a back seat, I’m afraid. Elmo is still a hit, and she intermittently asks for Elmo between requests for Buzsh (the way she says Buzz) and Woody. She’s got Margaret and Patricia down pat and calls out for them when the spirit moves her. Yesterday in the car, when I dropped Patricia off for tap class before running out to do a few quick errands with Brigid in the car, she started to cry a sad, sorrowful cry at Patricia’s leaving her. She loves her big sisters and wants to go to them over and over again.


She has really started to sing, and you can pick out words or sounds from songs that she’s come to know. She sings along with the ABC song, not pronouncing all the letters but certain ones she’ll say loud and clear, and she says the ending part pretty well, too. She’ll babble along with whatever she doesn’t know the words to, every now and then coming out with an emphasis word. The theme from Toy Story, “You’ve Got a Friend in Me,” is a particular favorite and she’ll babble along until you get to “in me,” which she says very plainly and, I have to add, very cutely. She’ll break into song in the car seat to no one in particular as she gazes out the window.


She’s also started pointing at things asking, “da?” as in, “What’s that?” and I’ll name it. She’ll point to all kinds of things looking for their names. Like Helen Keller when she finally understands W A T E R and then goes running from object to object for Annie Sullivan to spell for her, Brigid is enjoying the discovery that things have names. She never grows tired of pointing to (sticking her finger in) your eyes as she says, “Eye,” “nose,” “mouth” and so forth. She points to yours then to her own. Bellybutton is a new one and it’s very cute to see her find her own and then say it. Butterfly is a fairly new word for her and it comes out more like budabye. Many of her books have budabyes in them and she says it over and over – “budabye budabye budabye!”

Halloween is quickly approaching and I have yet to do the girls’ costumes. As much as I’d like to make Brigid an Elmo or Woody costume (Jessie, the ‘Odeling Cowgirl?) I’m going in a different direction. Patricia is very specific with what she wants; Margaret less so, but I’ll hold you all in suspense and post pictures from the actual event (assuming that as always I get them done at the last minute). We hope to go to Burlington this weekend so I can pick up some fabric now that we don’t have a JoAnn Fabrics anymore. I may have to stock up for their Christmas outfits, too, which will probably be made Dec. 23. I can dream, can’t I?

Shrek Takes a Back Seat to Buzz and Woody (at least for the time being)

Well, Brigid has left Shrek, at least for the time being, and become a Buzz and Woody freak. For the last two days, all she's wanted to do is watch Toy Story and Toy Story 2, both of which we love, and both of which she watches transfixed. Woody? Woody? she'll say over and over again. Buzz sounds more like Buzsh. Last night, when I was trying to get her to sleep, she was popping up from the boob and in a sleepy voice kept saying, "Buzsh Woody? Buzsh Woody?" and I'd say, "No, tomorrow you can see Buzz and Woody." She'd go back to nursing then pop up again, "Buzsh Woody? Buzsh Woody?" "No, tomorrow you can see Buzz and Woody." It went on like this for a good number of times before she was asleep.

We are treading into the dangerous waters of having her want to watch too much TV. She's still easily distracted so you can move her onto something else, but yesterday it wasn't going to happen. Buzz and Woody were taking over her brain. Patricia went upstairs and found the Buzz, Woody and Jessie the 'Odeling Cowgirl dolls (Patricia called Jessie the 'Odeling Cowgirl instead of the Yodeling Cowgirl, so it stuck). Brigid enjoyed taking Woody's hat off over and over again, saying, "hat hat hat?" Everything seems to come in threes. "Yes, that's Woody's hat."

She has taken to doing something very cute. When she wants something, she'll take your hand and guide you to wherever it is she wants you to go. Yesterday, I didn't know what she wanted at first, so I gave her my hand when she made it clear that she wanted it and we walked out into the kitchen. She stood in front of the dish washer and pointed up. On the top of the counter was a package of crackers. So I gave her a cracker. "Teeseyouuu," she said for Thank you. She walked back out into the living room and I followed. It wasn't 30 seconds later that she repeated the action and once again I was walking out with her to give her another cracker. "Teeseyouuu," she said and headed back out to the living room. Over and over again. I could have brought the package of crackers out with me, but it was too darn cute to see her take my hand and lead me out there. She repeated the maneuver later in the evening.

The red bottom situation seems to be much better. The A&D ointment did the trick, so she's so much more comfortable, although last night when I was changing her it was obvious that she was feeling something. When I asked if she wanted me to put the A&D on her, she calmed down immediately and stayed still so I could. She may be equating that with making her feel better "down there," so she's being cooperative because the ends justify the means.

She continues to be into everything, and last night was no exception. She ran around from forbidden thing to forbidden thing, climbing on the arm of the chair in her room, grabbing at the computer mouse, at one point even climbing up on the chair at the computer in order to bang out on the keyboard. I tried not to come up to her abruptly for fear that she'd startle and fall because she was standing on the chair seat. She turned to me and seemed very calm and nonchalant. I put her on the floor and she immediately tried to climb back up on the chair. She's a pip, that's for sure. Today, Daddy may take her up to the lake for the afternoon and early evening. It's supposed to be nice out, but it might rain later. Jack also wants to check out how his mother is doing. She took a fall off one of the horses the other day and may have actually given herself a concussion, having not remembered the fall itself. She refused to go to be checked out, and that's worrisome.

Margaret is immersed in a leaf-collecting project in science class. Apparently it's a rite of passage for everyone going through Stafford Middle School because all you have to do is mention the leaf project to someone whose kid has gone through the city school district and they nod knowingly. They have to collect 25 pairs of different leaves -- both coniferous and deciduous. They can collect more specimens for extra credit, but they have to have a pair from 25 different trees minimum. Margaret has been enjoying the project, bringing Ziploc baggies with her most places in case she finds something interesting. They have to identify them and include some basic information with each collection.

Patricia has been singing in both the chorus at Oak Street and with the Champlain Valley Oratorio Society, which is doing a children's concert in December. Her music teacher recommended her for the CVO project. Every Monday she has rehearsal on campus with other children in the project. In a few weeks the children's choir will join forces with the adult CVO for joint rehearsals leading up to the concert, which will be a performance of a children's mass -- can't remember the composer, but along the lines of Mozart or Bach. Very involved and complicated, but she's loving it. She's my showgirl no doubt about it.

All three of the girls are enjoying dance classes. Margaret just got her new tap shoes in the mail the other day in time for Wednesday night's class, and boy do they make a difference. What a sound the adult shoes make compared to the kids version. Got a great deal on eBay, both in size and in price. Margaret is only a few inches shorter than I and nearly wears the same size shoe as I. Hard to believe. Brigid enjoys dancing when the girls are in the studio. It's hard to keep her from running out into the studio from the waiting area when the girls are at class. When class is over, she runs around the studio dancing and spinning. Good thing Miss Nancy has a soft spot for her. She says, "She's a dancer." Now if they only made a musical version of Toy Story, then she could have it all.

Just as Predicted, Brigid is Unpredictable

Well, the bacitracin and A&D ointment seems to have done the trick. Brigid's bottom is on the mend and so is her disposition. She's had a few elimination issues over the last couple of days, but nothing to equal what she had gone through. She also had a very difficult poop yesterday, but I think that's because we went a complete 180 degrees on her because of the awful time she had over the weekend. But all's well and her end's well.

She did have another bloody nose incident Sunday before dinner. This time she bonked her nose on one of the love seats in the living room and that same nostril just opened up and let loose. She must have some kind of thinning of blood vessels up there because she couldn't have hit her face that hard, but it sure did bleed. And I had as difficult a time trying to get her to calm down and let me clean her up as I had before, which means it was a bloody mess.

Yesterday we had neither blood nor stool to contend with, so I'm hoping bodily fluids and solids have all retreated to their neutral corners for a while.

In the meantime, I forgot to wish Brigid a happy 19th-month birthday on Friday, the 12th. Our year-and-a-half-year-old has emerged on the other side on her way to being two. And she's got the temperment to go with it. She vascillates between being a joy to being a tyrant. She will hit with no warning or she'll come up and hug your legs just because. She'll be pointing out your various facial features, then haul off and smack you between the eyes. I've actually had to put her in an abbreviated time out a few times this past week for hitting her sisters. Then she'll be remorseful and hug them, only to strike out at them a few minutes later. Typical 18-month-old behavior.

Her vocabulary is getting wider, and she's getting easier to understand in her words and her demands. "Tee" is TV, and it's very easy to understand when she wants to see "Shrek." A-dah a-dah a-dah repeated over and over means I want I want I want. That's essentially all she needs to get along in life, the ability to request television viewing and to point out what she wants. She'll excell in all she attempts.

She says her sisters' names with glee when she sees them and runs to them with arms outstretched. She just loves being with her sisters. Margaret may be veering away from her enthusiasm at being the oldest big sister. I've detected a little reluctance in her demeanor when she's been asked to watch her baby sister lately, and that is probably to be expected at this age. Brigid is very fun to be around except when she's not, and it's hard to figure out how to nudge her back into being fun when she's turned the corner.

We are in the process of applying to the Clinton Community College Child Care Center for a part-time slot for Brigid. They can take her on Tuesdays and Fridays for a few hours a day, and although we probably don't need Friday -- being Jack's day off -- we want to get our foot in the door for future openings. I don't know how she'll react to being at a center for any length of time. Jack brings her to the babysitting at the YMCA when he goes to work out, but that's an hour at a time, and when he picks her up she is more than ready to leave. Brigid is such a creature of habit, she insists -- loudly by saying, "Buuck" -- that she wants to go to the library after babysitting at the Y. The library is conveniently located across the street from the Y, and Jack may have made the mistake of showing his determined daughter how accessible it is one too many times. She pitches a fit if it's not part of the day's plan. And she has her own routine once she gets to the library, too. As soon as she's at the bottom of the stairs leading into the children's room, she'll take off and propel herself into the little corral of cushions that make up a reading area, whether there are people sitting there or not. Then she'll run over to the other corner and has on occasion knocked down the block projects of other little kids. She can be a menace.

She is, as I said, a creature of habit. When dinner is over and the dishes are being done, she'll stand and say, "baach" over and over and run to the hallway door, indicating it's time for her bath. If you don't respond quickly enough, or if it's not a night for a baach, she gets very upset. Last night, I went over to the Press to do my calendar and Jack stayed at home long enough to give her a baach. When I got home (after he returned to work) she was all bathed and in her pajamas, but when I said, "Mmm, you smell like you had a bath!" she wriggled from my arms, ran to the doorway of the hall and started crying out for baach baach baach. When I told her she had already had a bath, she got very upset and cried very hard until we could distract her with something else.

She is also proficient at getting her chubby little hands on things she shouldn't -- and she knows she shouldn't, as evidenced by her abrupt stopping of whatever she isn't supposed to be doing. I walked out to find her trying to manuever the computer mouse and/or keyboard several times yesterday. She dropped the plan and took off each time, running in the opposite direction. She's started climbing on the arm of the stuffed chair in her room in order to reach books on the built-in bookshelf. I removed the books from the lower two shelves, but she's climbing up to reach the next shelf. I'm afraid she'll just forego the arm of the chair and start using the shelves as ladder rungs on her way to the top. The monkey just won't quit. She certainly is giving us a run for our money, but then again, it's a price worth paying.

Sounds Like a Queen Song: Red-Bottomed Girls

We had another bad night, diaper-rash-wise. Brigid's bottom was pretty sore all day and she vacillated between being a happy child to being a crying, sore and uncomfortable child. Dad gave her a bath and she was in bed by the time I got home from my jazz class, but about 10:30 we heard her crying in her room. I didn't want to take a chance like I did the night before so I went in to see what the problem was. She was sitting up in bed and crying a high-pitched cry. When I picked her up, I smelled the evidence I was dreading: that acidic poop again. Off came her PJs and diaper and sure enough, what was already a sore, red bottom was even worse. I had Jack run a warm bath so I could soak Brigid's bottom, but when I got her in the water she screamed. I did my best to clean her with the water -- no soap on that little bottom -- and brought her back downstairs where we sat on the big chair, a naked, sobbing and red Baby B on a towel on my lap so the air could get to the affected area. She calmed down a bit, and wanted to get down. It was now close to 11 p.m. and she was very wobbly from sleep but she ran out into the living room. I let her have a little bit of naked time to help air her out. She peed on the carpet and started to scream from the burning. I picked her up and tried to blot her dry, but she was writhing in pain. We decided to bite the bullet and try to put her diaper back on with more cream. She started screaming and sobbing again. I managed with Jack's help to get her slathered up and diapered and back into PJs, but she did not want to go in her own bed. We brought her in with us and she proceeded to point out that "boob" -- she started saying "boob" two days ago -- was "mine" (her word). "Boob, mine." I had to object, since it is, in fact, mine. But I have no claim to it at this point. She nursed herself to sleep, but it was a fitful sleep -- for all of us. I imagine every time she peed it was painful. Maybe not enough to wake up, but after getting the diaper even a little wet I'm sure it was terribly irritating. I had to cover homecoming today, so Dad is left with the sore-bottomed girl again today. I picked up some A&D Ointment before heading off for work, hoping that will help not only heal but soothe the area for her. The regular Desitin-type cream we use isn't cutting it, but I think the rash is so bad that it's beyond the usual redness that clears up pretty quickly.

I have to give a shout-out to my friend, Paula, for suggesting a homemade solution of one-third each bacitracin, nistatin and hydrocortisone. I may have the ingredients at home to try on her.

It's a crisp, sunny fall day today, and while I'm at work, Dad may take the girls out to do something outdoors and take advantage of the diversion so our red-bottomed girl can have some fun. You day can't be right when your diaper's on tight.

If Brigid Doesn't Say Your Name, Does it Mean You Don't Exist?

Poor Brigid didn't have a very good night last night. It started out fine. She told me after dinner she wanted her bath, or, as she says, "Baach, Baach." It took me just a second to figure out what she was saying, but the timing was right and she was full of dinner, so I said, "Yes, you can have your bath," and she went running to the hallway door to be let up the stairs, so I know I got the right word. She clammored up the stairs with me directly behind her, with her saying "Baach, baach," all the while. She patiently waited for me to get the water started and to get her clothes off, and then she got in and had her bath. She loves her bath. All the while, I kept telling her to let me know if she had to go potty after having success the other night on the big-girl potty. But no, she didn't have to go so she just continued playing happily in the water. We were both soaked and pruney by the end of it, Brigid from being in the water, me from being splashed with water, so it was time to get out. Again, she had no interest in going and showed no sign that she had to.

She had about a half-hour of naked time downstairs, all the while I kept after her, "Potty? Potty?" but no, she didn't need to sit. I got her in her diaper and pjs, and she went down to bed easy enough. The last several nights have been great -- with her going down without incident, awake and happy to be in bed. Last night was no different. But about 2:30 a.m. she was crying. I thought it was too early for her to be stirring so I tried to let her settle herself back down, but a half-hour later she was still crying so in my stupor and grogginess, I got her and brought her into bed with us. She wanted to nurse, but was very, very restless and uncomfortable. She would nurse, then fling herself about and cry. I picked her up and realized she smelled pretty poopy -- acidic poopy. So I brought her into her room and she was beside herself in discomfort. I turned on the light, got her out of her diaper and she had such a bad diaper burn, it's no wonder she was crying. I let her sit on my lap on a towel to let the air get to her a little bit, but when I tried to put some cream on her, she cried even harder. Her little bottom was very angry and red. I was finally able to get a cream-coated diaper on her and get her back in pajamas, but she did not want to go in her crib. She slid off my lap from where we sat on the big chair -- mind you, I'd turned off the light and it was dark in the house now, it being 3:30 a.m. -- and she took my hand. Without saying a word, she walked us back into our room and stood by the bed, wanting me to put her in with us, which I did. She nursed a little, squirmed a little, and finally fell asleep after 4. I got some sleep, but by 6 a.m. she was stirring again. She dozed on and off and was awake again just as I was about to leave with Margaret. Daddy said she has not been herself this morning, with frequent bouts of crying and obvious discomfort. He's tried his best to keep her creamed up, but it's pretty red. If it doesn't reverse itself later this afternoon, I'm going to call the doctor's to get advice on a better cream to use that won't a) burn her even more upon application; and b) clear it up much faster than the OTC brand we use. She's never really had a bad diaper rash before but anyone would get a rash from sitting in that acid bath that was in her diaper.

In other news, she continues her love affair with Shrek, having both One and Two memorized to the point where she sings along with the soundtrack and says some of the lines. She sat yesterday with Patricia, whom she calls Pa-tat, and held her Shrek doll that Aunty Shell gave her, holding him up at appropriate moments, saying, "Shrrrreek." I'm trying to indoctrinate her into the Toy Story world to expand her horizons.

And, last night in her bath, she finally identified me as Mommy by name, although it sounds more like Mamee. Margaret was doing the Who's That test, pointing to herself, pointing to me, and she said it. Twice upon request. But even more, she has moved into the stage of self-awareness. She has long pointed to herself when we ask, Where's Brigid? But earlier yesterday, she did her pointing and identifying, "Ma-get, Pa-tat," and to herself, she pointed inwardly and said, "Bi-get." We were all thoroughly impressed and gave her the necessary applause so that she repeated the pronouncement to our delight. We all have names and so, we exist. It's a good feeling.

Have to Tell Joe Torre to Quit Feeding Brigid Baseballs

Friday night with Kathleen and Dan was great. We were able to enjoy a few hours of adult conversation and libations in Burlington knowing the girls were well-cared-for with our friend, Kim. She put a very sleepy but protesting Brigid to bed just after 9 and when we walked in, she said it broke her heart to hear her screaming and crying, but we just said, "Welcome to our world." Brigid was none the worse for ware as a result, and she happily waved at Kim when she saw her last night, so there are no hard feelings.

I had to judge a quilt show on Saturday, a day that was forecast to be beautiful. It turned out to be not-so-beautiful, with rain all day. Jack took the girls up to the lake with the idea that I'd come up later and we'd spend the night. That was amended later that I'd not spend the night with the baby, that she and I would return to Plattsburgh and he and Margaret and Patricia would spend the night at the lake and go for a hike on Sunday. That was amended later, when I arrived and it was still raining with no end in sight, to spending the rest of the day and having dinner there. We'd all then come back to Plattsburgh and Jack and the girls would go on their hike from Plattsburgh.

Sunday morning came and well, I was hoping the bloody nose incident, as it's come to be known, was a one-time thing. But Sunday morning, Brigid woke up again having had a bloody nose during the night. It bled in church, and a little afterwards as well. But we didn't have the gushing we had a few weeks previous. I'm worried there is either something up there or she has a real congestion problem and as it's dislodging, it's tearing at the sensitive tissue up there. She certainly acted like it was sensitive when I tried to wipe it again, throwing her head all around and screaming bloody murder.

But when it was over, and the running nose stopped, she was fine. Sunday turned out to be that glorious day we were supposed to get on Saturday, so Jack and the girls went for a hike on Sunday and had a great day, and Brigid and I were on our own at church, which wasn't as bad as in previous weeks with the exception of the blood at the end. We had a bite to eat afterward and she took a good nap for me, sleeping for an hour in the crib and then an hour on me in the big chair in her room. It was nice, because I was able to doze a little as well. She's been enjoying pulling the books off the bookshelves in her room, which wouldn't be so bad if they were her books. They're our books that we haven't moved from there yet. So this is the push we needed to get some of those shelves cleared off. I'm sick of picking up all our journalism textbooks and restocking the shelves. She'll take a book off the shelf and sit in the big chair, saying, "Buuck, buuck" while she thumbs through it. It gets tossed on the floor and she grabs another buuck to check out.

We had Monday and Tuesday off -- Monday for Columbus Day and Tuesday for a superintendent's day. I took the days, too, and spent them with the girls. Jack took Margaret to the lake on the rainy Monday, so Patricia, Brigid and I spent the day shopping and hanging out. We ordered Chinese take-out for dinner and sat in front of the TV watching "Thirteen Going on Thirty." Patricia said to me, "Today was really fun." It warmed my heart.

Yesterday (Tuesday) Jack had to work, we were having Grandma and Granddad Downs over for dinner, the girls had jazz class and I was making a pork loin. Lots of running around and driving here and there, but it all worked out in the end. What didn't work out in the end very well was Brigid's tear-inducing, labor-intensive poop yesterday afternoon. I was giving her a snack after her nap when she started to cry. It was a different kind of cry, and I helped her out of the high chair. She wanted me to hold her on my shoulder (something she rarely does) and put her head on my shoulder, arms around my neck. She just cried and cried and strained and grunted. I shouldn't be surprised, considering the pound and a half of cheese she ate the day before. But it was heart-breaking because there wasn't anything I could do about it. When she finally had some relief, she was spent and just snuggled with her head on my shoulder for a while. I took her pants off, thinking it might help relieve some of the pressure on her waist. She seemed to like that and ran around with just her shirt on for a while. All was well. Poor kid had pushed out a baseball. Probably one of the ones the Yanks let get away.

Save Us From a Word Explosion and Fondness for the Stairs

I was trying to come up with a list of words or word-sounds that Brigid makes yesterday and was having a hard time listing them all because all of the sudden, she's just saying words. She seems to enjoy words that have a ook or uk or ack sound at the end because she really emphasizes that, like book and snack, and Shrek. But she also says back for bath. But the list is now growing at such a rapid rate, it's almost impossible to keep up with it. I also want to get her on tape, either cassette or video, because her voice when saying these things is so darn cute.

She can say her sisters' names, although we're probably the only ones who recognize it as such. It's so cute to see her stand at the hallway door with the gate across, calling up to Ma-get and Pa-tet (or something like that).

Yesterday when I got home from work she seemed very interested in boob, getting upset when I said I had to change out of my inaccessible dress before she could have some Mah mah mah. She has shown no desire to give it up, which is OK with me. But she'll get very frustrated when I can't accommodate her immediately. Now that she's better able to express herself, I'm waiting for the day she says, "More boob!" or "Want boob now!"

Before going in the house yesterday after getting home, we ran around the back yard. She twirled and spun around, splaying herself down in the grass and the leaves on her back, then rolling around before getting up and running to the Little Tykes slide we have. She can climb up the three short steps to the (very) small slide and come down by herself, something she is very and obviously proud of. Then we ran to the climbing tree and I helped her into the first "V" of the tree. She wanted to go further, but I couldn't get up there in my dress, nor did I want to have her jerk herself out of my arms and come tumbling to the ground. So we just got back into the grass and ran around some more before she decided it was time for Mah mah mah.

She was very excited to take her bath last night because bath time means she gets to climb up the "stais" (her word for stairs). I go behind her making sure she doesn't take a tumble, and in the few months we've been doing this, she's been getting stronger and stronger and more capable, which, of course, worries me because if she ever does get down the hallway by herself, she'll scramble up those stairs and possibly tumble down as well. I don't remember if I included this in a previous blog where I discussed her well-child visit, but she's almost 32 inches tall (and almost 24 pounds). Although she was a peanut beside her new friend, Adina, who is six months older, she seems so big to me now. Just carrying her around on my hip makes me thing the doctor's scale was on the fritz because she feels a whole lot heavier than 24 pounds.

Tonight, Jack and I are going over to Burlington to meet my college buddy, Kathleen, and her husband, Dan, for dinner. Our friend, Kim, is coming over to be with the girls. If we were dining out in Plattsburgh, I'd not have a problem with leaving the baby with Patricia and Margaret because we'd be within easy distance if anything did go wrong. But being over in Vermont, that's just too far away to leave the girls to their own devices with the baby. It will be nice to see Kathleen, who's visiting her dad from their home in California. And Jack has never met Dan. We'll see how Kim fares with a pre-bed-time Brigid, but Margaret and Patricia will be there to lend a hand.

As promised, here are some bonus photos. I've also added one of the girls and our friends, the Weinsteins', daughter, Adina, to the blog from their visit.

I call this first one, Angry Devil Eyes.
The ones of her in a diaper were just after a bath and she was running around with a mirror. The last one is what we call Dirty Face, taken at the lake after dinner one night.

Visitors, Grabby Gus and a Clean House

The last week has been a busy one. The girls' first tap class was a success, and they found out that they are going to be part of the junior kick line, which is tough work and requires them to do a Rockettes-type routine for the recital. I have to get Margaret a new pair of tap shoes since she grew out of the ones she used last year. I had a spare pair for Patricia in the next size up and was able to sell the pair I bought for her just days before the recital last June. She wore them all of five times. The same is true for the jazz sneakers, although both girls got a whole year out of them. Patricia couldn't wear her old ones at all this year; Margaret will be able to last a while yet. My jazz class was Friday night and it was good to get back into the swing of things. I didn't realize, however, how badly out of shape I am. I took comfort in knowing so is everyone else in my class!

Saturday, Jack took the girls up to the lake to give me an entire day unencumbered to clean the house. We had company coming for dinner and I really wanted to go through at least the downstairs to pick it up. The couple and their daughter responsible for my starting a blog were in town from their home in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Jack Weinstein is a professor of philosophy at the university there; his wife, Kim, is also a professor, of English. Their daughter, Adina, an almost-two-year-old, is the subject of their blog. Jack is an alum of Plattsburgh State and was invited back as a visiting professor for two weeks. Kim and Adina were able to join them for a long weekend. Well, I'd been reading their blog for months and we connected online. When I learned several months ago that they were coming to Plattsburgh, we made certain to plan a get-together so we could all meet in the flesh, so to speak. I had had lunch with Jack a day earlier, before he went to Montreal to pick up Kim and Adina at the airport. He brought them to my office on Friday so I could meet them, finally. I gave Adina a copy of "Many Moons," one of our favorite books by James Thurber, and because she's a fan of "Singing in the Rain" and of dancing, I found a pair of toddler size 7 tap shoes and gave them to her. She was delighted and danced on the stage of Giltz Auditorium. The Weinsteins then came over for dinner on Saturday and we had a wonderful visit. It felt like we had known them all along, and they said the same. Adina is a delight, and Patricia and Margaret enjoyed keeping an eye on her and playing with both Adina and Brigid. Brigid just kind of watched her, but they seemed to get along just fine.

Kim and Adina returned to Grand Forks on Monday, and they came by my office for a final farewell. Meanwhile, Jack was staying on for a few more days and had a public lecture Tuesday night that I was able to attend. It was amazing -- on citizenship, the Constitution and educating the citizens on their rights and responsibilities.

Meanwhile, Brigid has entered a troublesome stage where everything is fair game and everything is hers. She goes from place to place, reaching up, trying to pull things down. We're forever chasing after her, moving her from harm's way, moving things from her reach, fencing off areas to keep her out and keep her safe. She's always on the go. She didn't take a nap today, so that meant for a cranky afternoon and evening. The girls had their tap class tonight and when we got home, she was out in a few minutes.

We haven't had any more successes on the potty, but she asks for it and stands on it and plays with it all the time. At least she knows where it is for the day she says,"Potty potty potty" for real. She does know, as she has for a long time, when her diaper needs changing, so that's something, anyway.

I have to apologize for not having any photos to post in a long time. I had lost the cable to the camera and finally found it the other day, so I promise to post some of the photos I've taken recently.