Forgive the lack of news.
Do Kurt and I still have the cold? Yes. For a while I basically abandoned all hope that we would ever be well again. Now, I'm pretty sure that unless the mucus annoys us to death, we're probably going to recover fully in the next week or so. But what a month.
I am happy to report that Kurt is no longer a spigot. At the height of Kurt's spigotness we noticed that two more teeth had decided to choose that time to make their entrances, giving him, what, ten teeth total? I haven't peered into his mouth for a while because it's a good way to get smacked or bitten. (This begs the question of how his teeth are getting brushed. Well, I'll tell you: I push the toothbrush in, jerk it around a lot and hope it's hitting some teeth. Most of the time, I'm pretty sure it does.)
Teeth brushing is actually step two of Kurt's bedtime ritual with me, which proceeds as follows:
2. Teeth brushing as previously discussed.
3. Three to five books, at least two of which are bedtime themed, read to him in a soft voice, in a dimly lit room.
4. The moment, after the last book has been read, in which Kurt realises with horror that this whole program, once again, has been leading up to actual bedtime.
5. Several minutes of crying and struggling in which Kurt tries vainly to escape out of my arms to the magical place that must exist where little boys are never, ever put to bed.
6. Eventual reluctant snuggling and acceptance of his pacifier.
(Personally, my bedtime ritual consists of steps 1,2 and 7, and sometimes, it's just 7.)
Anyway, so as stated, I am much less mucus-y. Jeff, besides suffering from a debilitating chronic condition known as Guitar Hero Wrist, is also doing well. He finally came to grips with the fact that he could get infinitely more work done without a Kurt in the room, and thus been retreating to the library daily for a few hours to do so.
And Kurt? He plays. All day, every day. I present you with a series of photos: Kurt At Play.
On his b-day gift from Max and Danielle, affectionately referred to in our house as the Big Gay Disco Zebra:
Jeff calls this picture "Kurt Presents…"
Casual hanging out in the chair:
Being terribly amused that his bear is riding in his shopping cart:
And with Mommy. The happiness on his face is a sure indication that bedtime is still hours away:
In other news, Phoebe loves the Wii. Not to play it, of course. (Although who knows what the cats do when we're gone.) No, the existence of the Wii means Phoebe can count on Jeff sitting on the couch, Kurt-free and lap open, for at least a little while each day.