They Never Explained That 24-Hour-Bugs Multiply By Household Number

Well, the blight that spread over the household, first manifesting itself in a puking 2-year-old, soon descended upon Patricia, Jack and myself, sparing, for the time being, Margaret. Brigid was throwing up until Monday morning, when she heaved her last heave. But by Monday night after lights out, Patricia was grabbing for the garbage can, and Jack and I were running for the loo. Patricia's biggest fear, of course, was being sick for the first day of middle school today. But by mid-morning, she was on the couch with a cool cloth on her head and didn't have another episode. I don't know if that's because she was getting over the bug or just didn't have anything left to spew. I spent the day in bed; Jack was able to get up and do what had to be done. Brigid had a good day at day care, away from the sickness, which is, of course, ironic since we're sure that's where she picked it up in the first place. Her previous teacher in the wobbler room told Jack yesterday afternoon that the stomach bug was sweeping their classroom, so there you have it. I'm at work today, but I'm still a little shaky. Jack has this week off, which is good and bad. Good that he didn't have to call in sick and leave the newsroom with an unplanned absence, but bad in that he's sick on his vacation. We're hoping it just fades away the way a 24-hour bug is supposed to.

The girls got off to school this a.m. without a hitch. I'll be anxious to hear how Patricia did on her first day with the big dogs. Margaret, by now, is the top dog -- an 8th grader -- afforded all the rights and privileges as such. And so it goes. Another year has begun and soon, we'll be staring Christmas in the face saying where did the time go? Then it will be the end of another school year when we're saying the same thing.

Brigid will be two and a half in nine days. It's hard to believe chronologically but very believable in her behavior and abilities. Her vocabulary is just exploding, her ability to reason and use logic (when it benefits her the most) is astounding. Her spatial perception is incredible. She knows where she is in the city at any given point. She says without prompting where Jack's office is (calls it Daddy's house) or my office on campus (calls it Mommy's house). She knows where the mall is and whenever we pass it, if we're not bound for it in the first place, she wants to go. She'll call out, "Wanna go to the mall mall mall." We don't know why everything tends to come in threes with her, but it often does. We'll go to the mall mall mall in the car car car to eat eat eat. I'm very excited at the new construction at the mall mall mall. We'll be getting a Target in October and I'm thrilled beyond words. Wish it was open for back-to-school shopping. If it turns out to be a Super Target with groceries, then I'll be in hog heaven.

Brigid has still been quick to hit people, but it isn't as pronounced as it was even a few weeks ago. We're hoping a combination of ignoring her, putting her in time outs (which she doesn't seem to mind in the least) and talking to her about how it hurts to be hit might be making a difference. Or, she's just growing out of the stage and is moving on. What we have been seeing more of lately is a clinginess and anxiety at drop-off at Sibley. What used to be a momentary hesitation when I'd have to leave her has become a huge thing, with her refusing to leave my arms. She will burrow her head in my shoulder and hold on tight. Now, under different circumstances, having a hug like that from Brigid is heaven. I'd hold her like that all day if I could. But this is just when I have to leave for work, and she's not the least interested in being left with one of the teachers. The last two mornings -- yesterday, when I was sick and this morning, when I was still on the borderline -- I had to just plunk her into Gina's arms and run. I know she was fine moments after I hit the parking lot, but it still breaks your heart nonetheless. When I pick her up this afternoon, she'll be thrilled to see me, and there will be no talk of the earlier unpleasantness. The teachers will say she had a great day, and that will be that. But I don't know what has turned her into this clinging vine every morning when she previously had been very happy to be off in the room. I think it's yet another stage she'll have to get over. Either that, or I'll be perfecting my 50-yard dash for some time to come.