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.