So we all got sick, and we all survived. Jeff, Maria and I were all snuffly and snotty and a bit on the sad side. But Kurt was, as always, completely pathetic and worthless. Kurt does not do illness well. He becomes outrageously clingy and goes back to being more or less non-verbal. He also has a charming habit of refusing to eat or drink anything at all for days on end, making me hold him down and force fluids down his throat with a syringe. Mama said there'd be days like this.
Here he is at the height of his pathetic misery, in his couch-nest, from which he watched episode after episode of "Thomas and His Friends." (Referred to in this house as, simply, "Train Show.")
Honestly, between Friday and Saturday the only thing we could get down him besides water, milk and Pedialyte was prescription strength ice cream, which he did not devour with his usual gusto.
(In addition to "Train Show" Kurt has been watching one other show, worth noting because it's the first show he's really picked out himself, when he saw the intro coming on during Tivo-ed episodes of other stuff. It's called "Waybuloo." This is a show about four small, colorful creatures with large, apparently helium filled heads, who float around, receive instructions from some sort of crystal-powered sun dial, and do a kid version of yoga called yogo to new age music. The whole thing is pretty sinister. Kurt loves it. He calls all the characters bunnies, and differentiates them by their colors. His favorite is "Yellow Bunny," who is, quite obviously, a monkey.)
Anyway, Kurt gradually slipped off the couch and started playing with his toys late Sunday, eventually becoming fascinated with the camera and insisting I take a picture of his own beloved Bunny to admire.
But now let me take you back in time a few weeks, when we drove up to the city of Nanaimo. Cute, picturesque town, as well as being the location of the ONE AND ONLY Taco Bell on Vancouver Island. Yes, yes, the views were nice and everything, but the Taco Bell was excellent, though they didn't have tostadas, and seemed unclear about what a tostada actually is. Still worth it.
After the taco feast we drove around the town and found a most excellent city park that had a wicked waterfall.
Which we had to work very hard to keep Kurt out of.
Maria was not impressed, however.
It also had the usual assortment of kid amusement devices.
Finally, I have to take you all the way back to the day of Kurt's birthday this year. It's recently been pointed out to me that I forgot to post a picture of Maria's first swim. SO different from the cold, October outdoor pool of Kurt's first swim. Maria got to float around in the baby pool at Gordon Head, which is basically a glorified bath. Needless to say, she was happy.
There's just no doubt that the kids are flourishing. Maria remains tiny but happy and increasingly more mobile. Kurt is getting braver about using words, although he is often confused about meaning and context, especially with modifiers like more, another and again. (Favorite thing he's said so far: "More bunny song again please? Okay!" Kurt often agrees heartily with himself.) Work is Kicking. Jeff's. Ass.
Lack of work is kicking mine. Not that I don't have enough to do around here. But I miss my grown up job.