Reilly has been sick on and off for the past three months. Mostly on. Three months ago she started preschool, which is well known to be the breeding ground for all things bacterial.
Our family has been through this before, has weathered the initial period where Reilly adjusts to her new daycare environment. This time, though, the initial period has seemed to stretch on longer than normal.
Being seasoned parents, we haven’t taken Reilly to the doctor much. We know that most of what she contracts simply requires a dose of rest coupled with a few shots of TLC. However, last week, when she contracted pink eye, we knew we had to take her in to see the pediatrician.
Shawn took Reilly, and it was a quick and simple visit. Later that day, I came home from work and was doing my usual afternoon potty duty. Reilly pee-peed in the potty and got up to wipe when I noticed that there were a few crimson drops diffusing in her urine. I knew right away that it was blood.
Back to the pediatrician we went, and after the drama of having Reilly give a urine sample, my fear was confirmed: Reilly had a UTI. The doctor prescribed an antibiotic and then told us he’d be calling us the next day. He was concerned about the amount of bacteria in her urine and needed to run additional tests to see if there was any damage to her bladder or kidneys. He said we might need an ultrasound.
(Here I am at this moment typing this all rather matter-of-factly, but let me just admit right now that I was really concerned and even a tad bit freaking out.)
So they call us the next day and tell us that Reilly also has e-coli in her urine.
(More freaking out by me.)
Over the last week, the antibiotic has done its job, and Reilly has returned to her happy, active self. Shawn and I permitted ourselves to relax and give a sigh of relief that this whole thing was over.
Then today, Shawn called me at work to say that Mrs. A had asked that she pick Reilly up from preschool. Reilly had just thrown up. Twice.
Shawn and I babied Reilly all afternoon, playing gently, bathing gently, eating gently. No matter, she barfed two more times, all over Shawn. So here I am, typing up a blog while Shawn reads a book to our mellow and bellyaching baby. Next, I’ll do the dishes from dinner tonight because honestly—there should be a rule that if you get barfed on, you don’t have to do the dishes, right?
Friday, November 30, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Like the guy in the wedding dress at Washington Square Park
This weekend at the Farmer's Market, I saw a woman—let's say she was 60—dressed in all white: white shirt, white pants, white hat, white sunglasses, and white shoes. Hanging from her hand was a white leash connected to a white stuffed dog that was standing on a white skateboard. She was weird and I loved her.
I loved her because she made downtown St. Petersburg feel a little more like a city—like The City. The market was mostly populated by the bland, safe people who make up the suburbs (including me), but when mixed with the homeless and punks and weirdoes, I truly felt like I was experiencing an urban moment, and it felt good.
Nearby, a Celtic band played, and Reilly spun herself in circles in appreciation of their music. Shawn and I stood on the pavement and absorbed it all, saying nothing. I looked back for the woman in white and saw her as she moved away, towing her dog on the skateboard, smiling at God knows what.
I loved her because she made downtown St. Petersburg feel a little more like a city—like The City. The market was mostly populated by the bland, safe people who make up the suburbs (including me), but when mixed with the homeless and punks and weirdoes, I truly felt like I was experiencing an urban moment, and it felt good.
Nearby, a Celtic band played, and Reilly spun herself in circles in appreciation of their music. Shawn and I stood on the pavement and absorbed it all, saying nothing. I looked back for the woman in white and saw her as she moved away, towing her dog on the skateboard, smiling at God knows what.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
The Correction
Last night, Reilly sampled a bit of her dinner, then hopped down from her chair and walked over to where Shawn was sitting.
"Mommy, I want a snack.”
Shawn pointed to her still full plate and said, “Reilly, you just had a snack.”
Reilly tilted her head to the side and replied, “That's not a snack mommy, that's dinner."
Shawn and I burst out laughing. What a little hair-splitter.
"Mommy, I want a snack.”
Shawn pointed to her still full plate and said, “Reilly, you just had a snack.”
Reilly tilted her head to the side and replied, “That's not a snack mommy, that's dinner."
Shawn and I burst out laughing. What a little hair-splitter.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Almond memories and what Squirrels eat
Reilly’s ability to recall minute details of her life is amazing. She consistently remembers people and events that have long since been filed away in my memory, and jogged to the front of my consciousness only by her prompting.
Shawn and I usually keep fresh nuts in the house. The most popular nut would be almonds, followed closely by cashews. For some reason, we hadn’t bought any for several months, so the last time I was at the local Publix, I bought a bag of raw almonds.
When I got home, Shawn was psyched to see the almonds, and opened the bag immediately. Reilly, seeing her mommy eating something, demanded her own cup. Shawn and Reilly sat down on the kitchen floor and dug in.
Reilly took her first almond, bit it in half, and then gave half to Shawn. To the casual observer, this might come off as just a nice sharing moment. To me, it was stunning. Reilly was recalling a behavior that Shawn and I had established many months ago: When Reilly was younger, we used to bite her almonds in half to ensure that the piece of nut was small enough for her to chew and therefore not choke on. So when Reilly made this gesture to her mom, Shawn looked up at me with a “isn’t our daughter amazing” smile. I gave her the look right back.
This weekend, Reilly’s “Uncle Willy” and “Uncle Drew” visited. When we were at the Farmer’s Market Saturday morning, Uncle Willy bought Reilly a bag of kettle corn, which is a huge event of spoiling, since Shawn and I are paranoid about Reilly choking on a popcorn kernel. Reilly ate that popcorn like a starved child, though eventually we were able to put it away when she was distracted by the live band.
In the vein of Reilly’s reversal of the words 'kitchen' and 'chicken, she later asked us for some acorns. After some head scratching, we realized that she was really asking for popcorn. It makes sense that she would reverse the words. Our big old oak tree is dumping acorns all over our house and yard at the rate of one per second, so the word ‘acorn’ is well established in her lexicon.
Later, when we had returned home, we were all watching our family of squirrels foraged around the foot of our oak tree. Reilly took one look at them and exclaimed, “Look, they’re eating popcorn!”
Shawn and I usually keep fresh nuts in the house. The most popular nut would be almonds, followed closely by cashews. For some reason, we hadn’t bought any for several months, so the last time I was at the local Publix, I bought a bag of raw almonds.
When I got home, Shawn was psyched to see the almonds, and opened the bag immediately. Reilly, seeing her mommy eating something, demanded her own cup. Shawn and Reilly sat down on the kitchen floor and dug in.
Reilly took her first almond, bit it in half, and then gave half to Shawn. To the casual observer, this might come off as just a nice sharing moment. To me, it was stunning. Reilly was recalling a behavior that Shawn and I had established many months ago: When Reilly was younger, we used to bite her almonds in half to ensure that the piece of nut was small enough for her to chew and therefore not choke on. So when Reilly made this gesture to her mom, Shawn looked up at me with a “isn’t our daughter amazing” smile. I gave her the look right back.
This weekend, Reilly’s “Uncle Willy” and “Uncle Drew” visited. When we were at the Farmer’s Market Saturday morning, Uncle Willy bought Reilly a bag of kettle corn, which is a huge event of spoiling, since Shawn and I are paranoid about Reilly choking on a popcorn kernel. Reilly ate that popcorn like a starved child, though eventually we were able to put it away when she was distracted by the live band.
In the vein of Reilly’s reversal of the words 'kitchen' and 'chicken, she later asked us for some acorns. After some head scratching, we realized that she was really asking for popcorn. It makes sense that she would reverse the words. Our big old oak tree is dumping acorns all over our house and yard at the rate of one per second, so the word ‘acorn’ is well established in her lexicon.
Later, when we had returned home, we were all watching our family of squirrels foraged around the foot of our oak tree. Reilly took one look at them and exclaimed, “Look, they’re eating popcorn!”
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Week 124 Pictures
A visit from Uncle Willie and Drew, a trip to the market, some fun at the beach. Here is your photo of the week:
Click here for more.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Having a stroke
There is a new saying that seems to be gathering steam in the nonprofit field: “Stroke a check.” As in, the donor just “stroked a check” to my organization.
I hate this saying.
I hate it because it makes the charitable donor sound cavalier and uncaring, which is the exact opposite of what I consider our supporters to be. Donors don’t just “stroke checks.” They write checks from their bank accounts—giving away their hard earned money—to support a charitable cause that they care about.
So, to all you nonprofit workers out there, I now decree that the saying “Stroke a check” is forbidden from your lexicon.
I have spoken.
I hate this saying.
I hate it because it makes the charitable donor sound cavalier and uncaring, which is the exact opposite of what I consider our supporters to be. Donors don’t just “stroke checks.” They write checks from their bank accounts—giving away their hard earned money—to support a charitable cause that they care about.
So, to all you nonprofit workers out there, I now decree that the saying “Stroke a check” is forbidden from your lexicon.
I have spoken.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Delay Techniques
Getting Reilly to bed has grown to be a challenge lately. Proving how smart she is, she has learned the behaviors of her mother and father, and now uses our sensibilities against us. Here are a few of the lines she tries on us each night:
Delay technique #1: “No, five books!” We usually start the negotiation by offering Reilly two books to read before bedtime. She then goes to the shelf and brings back about five books, knowing that her parents are suckers for educating their daughter through reading.
Delay technique #2: “In the rocking chair!” The next step in the bedtime ritual is when Shawn and I sing bedtime songs to Reilly. We used to hold her while singing, but at 24lbs, that option is getting a little tiring. We try to put her in bed to sing songs, but she prefers having them sung to her in the rocking chair. Of course, as soon as we sit down in the rocking chair, she hops out of our laps and runs for it.
Delay technique #3: “I’m thirsty.” Should Shawn and I get Reilly in bed with stories read and songs sung, we rub her back for a few moments before leaving. It is usually at this point that Reilly requests some milk.
Delay technique #4: “I have to pee.” After chugging down some milk, Reilly then announces that she has to use the potty. Knowing full well that she just went less than an hour ago, we still give in to this one. Potty training knows no inconvenience. The thing is, Reilly always manages to go when she uses this delay technique, which makes me think that she’s more capable at holding it that I thought.
Delay technique #5: “Shake my hand.” I referred to this in an earlier post. Nothing like ending the night with a firm handshake is what I always say.
Delay technique #1: “No, five books!” We usually start the negotiation by offering Reilly two books to read before bedtime. She then goes to the shelf and brings back about five books, knowing that her parents are suckers for educating their daughter through reading.
Delay technique #2: “In the rocking chair!” The next step in the bedtime ritual is when Shawn and I sing bedtime songs to Reilly. We used to hold her while singing, but at 24lbs, that option is getting a little tiring. We try to put her in bed to sing songs, but she prefers having them sung to her in the rocking chair. Of course, as soon as we sit down in the rocking chair, she hops out of our laps and runs for it.
Delay technique #3: “I’m thirsty.” Should Shawn and I get Reilly in bed with stories read and songs sung, we rub her back for a few moments before leaving. It is usually at this point that Reilly requests some milk.
Delay technique #4: “I have to pee.” After chugging down some milk, Reilly then announces that she has to use the potty. Knowing full well that she just went less than an hour ago, we still give in to this one. Potty training knows no inconvenience. The thing is, Reilly always manages to go when she uses this delay technique, which makes me think that she’s more capable at holding it that I thought.
Delay technique #5: “Shake my hand.” I referred to this in an earlier post. Nothing like ending the night with a firm handshake is what I always say.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Baby of the Week:
A hearty congratulations to Ellen and Joe Wong, who today welcomed Charles Ellis York Wong at 1:13pm. Ellis, as he will be called, clocked in at 8lbs, 3oz, with a height of 21 inches.
Let's hear it for the boy!
Let's hear it for the boy!
Monday, November 12, 2007
(sh)usher
Here’s what happened over a recent breakfast:
Me: “Reilly, please finish your—“
Reilly: “Shh!”
Me: “I want you to—“
Reilly: “Shh!”
Me: “—eat your—“
Reilly: “Shh!”
Me: “—cereal.”
Reilly: “Shh, Daddy! Quiet!”
She gets her little finger up to her mouth and shushes like the son of Dr. Evil.
This morning, Reilly even shushed Shawn while she was flossing.
The only good part of this new development is that she now has the aptitude to earn her first job as a teenager: movie theater usher.
Me: “Reilly, please finish your—“
Reilly: “Shh!”
Me: “I want you to—“
Reilly: “Shh!”
Me: “—eat your—“
Reilly: “Shh!”
Me: “—cereal.”
Reilly: “Shh, Daddy! Quiet!”
She gets her little finger up to her mouth and shushes like the son of Dr. Evil.
This morning, Reilly even shushed Shawn while she was flossing.
The only good part of this new development is that she now has the aptitude to earn her first job as a teenager: movie theater usher.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
The "Daddy's Girl" fallacy, cont.
This morning, Reilly and I ate breakfast in the kitchen. She sat on her stool and I sat on the floor next to her. If you must know, we were eating cinnamon Life cereal. Reilly likes it.
After Reilly finished her cereal, she scooted over on her stool, and then patted the empty space next to her. “Come sit next to me, daddy,” she said.
I squeezed in next to her, and then she took my arm and put it around her shoulders, resting my hand on her knee. She patted my hand lovingly.
Shawn, who was observing the whole scene while she was ironing, said, “She must not be feeling well.”
Yes, you heard her right. So odd is it for our daughter to show any affection to her father, that Shawn concluded Reilly she must be delirious from illness to display such tender behavior to me.
After Reilly finished her cereal, she scooted over on her stool, and then patted the empty space next to her. “Come sit next to me, daddy,” she said.
I squeezed in next to her, and then she took my arm and put it around her shoulders, resting my hand on her knee. She patted my hand lovingly.
Shawn, who was observing the whole scene while she was ironing, said, “She must not be feeling well.”
Yes, you heard her right. So odd is it for our daughter to show any affection to her father, that Shawn concluded Reilly she must be delirious from illness to display such tender behavior to me.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Week 121-122 Pictures
The hundred or so photos we took on Halloween were lost in an unfortunate accident (my fault), so we've got a truncated version for the last two weeks. (At least you got a good vocabulary word out of it.)
Your photo of the week:
For more, click here.
Your photo of the week:
For more, click here.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Bar graffiti, Corrina, and Guinness
Last night, after enjoying a cuban sandwich and a side of maduros at Gordo's, I decided to head on over to an old Tallahassee haunt, the Warehouse.
Now, back in the day, I didn't even consider "going out" until 10:00pm. So, when I busted through the door at 7:00pm, I immediately realized how old I am.
Due to my early arrival, I was literally the first customer in the bar. The two bartenders were watching the show "Scrubs" on TV. One of the bartenders got up and poured me a Guinness, then the three of us sat there and watched the rest of the episode.
We laughed together.
I imagine that this scene could happen at any bar, especially at 7:00pm, but somehow this felt special--it felt like something that could only happen in Tallahassee. The thing about a college town is how readily that people "make friends." This openness and casual acceptance is magic. (I don't know if I am willing magic onto the town, or if the magic still exists.)
Two more Guinness later, I had gotten to know the two bartenders--George and 'LaBamba'--and had talked music, talked politics, talked popular culture. Just when I hit my stride, a crowd came in, the bartenders got to work, and cigarette smoke filled the air. The moment was lost.
Age 31, ex-smoker, work-to-do-tomorrow Brian took his leave (but to avoid being too melodramatic, he took his leave with a smile).
Now, back in the day, I didn't even consider "going out" until 10:00pm. So, when I busted through the door at 7:00pm, I immediately realized how old I am.
Due to my early arrival, I was literally the first customer in the bar. The two bartenders were watching the show "Scrubs" on TV. One of the bartenders got up and poured me a Guinness, then the three of us sat there and watched the rest of the episode.
We laughed together.
I imagine that this scene could happen at any bar, especially at 7:00pm, but somehow this felt special--it felt like something that could only happen in Tallahassee. The thing about a college town is how readily that people "make friends." This openness and casual acceptance is magic. (I don't know if I am willing magic onto the town, or if the magic still exists.)
Two more Guinness later, I had gotten to know the two bartenders--George and 'LaBamba'--and had talked music, talked politics, talked popular culture. Just when I hit my stride, a crowd came in, the bartenders got to work, and cigarette smoke filled the air. The moment was lost.
Age 31, ex-smoker, work-to-do-tomorrow Brian took his leave (but to avoid being too melodramatic, he took his leave with a smile).
Business trip to Tally
My big decision for the day: Where to eat dinner?
Choice 1: Gordos for a cuban sandwich
Choice 2: Bagel Bagel for a TBCC
Choice 3: GutBox
Choice 1: Gordos for a cuban sandwich
Choice 2: Bagel Bagel for a TBCC
Choice 3: GutBox
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Chasing the sunset
This afternoon I was driving west from on I-10 to Ft. Walton Beach. I was doing what I call “chasing the sunset;” traveling at a high rate of speed while watching the sky as it turned from yellow to orange to plum over the course of an hour.
The traffic was light, and with my rental car on cruise control, I had the rare opportunity for some reflection.
The image that I kept returning to was of earlier in the day: I was standing at the kitchen window, watching Shawn take brush from the yard and load it into a wheelbarrow. Next to her was Reilly, quiet and focused, working in Shawn’s shadow.
When the wheelbarrow was full, Shawn let Reilly push it to the garbage can out back. Again, Reilly took her task seriously, wheeled the brush without saying a word, without losing her focus for a moment. When she needed help navigating a rough patch, Shawn took over.
Her little blue gloves, far too big for her hands, hung loose at her sides as she followed Shawn. As they passed through a gate, Reilly closed the door behind her mother, and then hurried to chase after her.
The traffic was light, and with my rental car on cruise control, I had the rare opportunity for some reflection.
The image that I kept returning to was of earlier in the day: I was standing at the kitchen window, watching Shawn take brush from the yard and load it into a wheelbarrow. Next to her was Reilly, quiet and focused, working in Shawn’s shadow.
When the wheelbarrow was full, Shawn let Reilly push it to the garbage can out back. Again, Reilly took her task seriously, wheeled the brush without saying a word, without losing her focus for a moment. When she needed help navigating a rough patch, Shawn took over.
Her little blue gloves, far too big for her hands, hung loose at her sides as she followed Shawn. As they passed through a gate, Reilly closed the door behind her mother, and then hurried to chase after her.
Friday, November 2, 2007
And the score is...
The most challenging part of being a father to Reilly is getting her ready for school in the morning. I do not exaggerate. The time between 7:00 and 8:00 every morning is enough to crush even the most patient of souls.
Most of the problem comes from the fact that Reilly has fully discovered her free will. A sample conversation:
Me: “Reilly, time to get dressed.”
Reilly: “No, I’ll do it!”
Me: “Okay, I’ll sit over here at the table.”
Reilly: “No, sit over there daddy! On the couch!”
Me: “Okay, fine. Daddy will sit on the couch and watch you get dressed.”
Reilly: “No, I want to eat my bagel!”
Me: “Okay, you can eat your bagel and then get dressed.”
Reilly: “No! I don’t have to!”
Me: “Reilly, we are going to be late. I need you to get dressed or I’ll have to dress you.”
Reilly: “Okay. I get dressed Daddy.” Reilly then walks over to the couch and is distracted by a puzzle. “Let’s do a puzzle, Daddy!”
Me: Speechless, because my brain has exploded in my skull.
This morning, after not going potty for daddy, not eating her bagel for daddy, throwing her milk on the floor for daddy, and refusing to get dressed for daddy, all the while demanding Special Treats and stamps from daddy, I decided to put Reilly in Time Out.
I counted off a minute, then went back in, gave Reilly a hug, and explained to her that she was in Time Out because she was not listening to her daddy. I then told her that she should come out of Time Out and get dressed.
Her reply: “No! I want to stay in Time Out!”
So how do I respond when my daughter prefers the punishment over the thing she is being punished for?
Reilly 1, Daddy 0.
Most of the problem comes from the fact that Reilly has fully discovered her free will. A sample conversation:
Me: “Reilly, time to get dressed.”
Reilly: “No, I’ll do it!”
Me: “Okay, I’ll sit over here at the table.”
Reilly: “No, sit over there daddy! On the couch!”
Me: “Okay, fine. Daddy will sit on the couch and watch you get dressed.”
Reilly: “No, I want to eat my bagel!”
Me: “Okay, you can eat your bagel and then get dressed.”
Reilly: “No! I don’t have to!”
Me: “Reilly, we are going to be late. I need you to get dressed or I’ll have to dress you.”
Reilly: “Okay. I get dressed Daddy.” Reilly then walks over to the couch and is distracted by a puzzle. “Let’s do a puzzle, Daddy!”
Me: Speechless, because my brain has exploded in my skull.
This morning, after not going potty for daddy, not eating her bagel for daddy, throwing her milk on the floor for daddy, and refusing to get dressed for daddy, all the while demanding Special Treats and stamps from daddy, I decided to put Reilly in Time Out.
I counted off a minute, then went back in, gave Reilly a hug, and explained to her that she was in Time Out because she was not listening to her daddy. I then told her that she should come out of Time Out and get dressed.
Her reply: “No! I want to stay in Time Out!”
So how do I respond when my daughter prefers the punishment over the thing she is being punished for?
Reilly 1, Daddy 0.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Ebony and Ivory
Me: "I don't feel good."
Shawn: "What did you eat so far today?"
Me: "About 30 pieces of candy and two Krispy Kremes."
*Silence*
Me: "What did you eat so far today?"
Shawn: "A bunch of celery and two Wasa crackers."
Shawn: "What did you eat so far today?"
Me: "About 30 pieces of candy and two Krispy Kremes."
*Silence*
Me: "What did you eat so far today?"
Shawn: "A bunch of celery and two Wasa crackers."
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