now that's what i'm talkin' about!!

Blake is sick tonight. He was probably infected in Edmonton, as his sweetheart & companion baby came down with Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease the day after we left. From all I'm told this is one of the mild ones, and very little can be done to prevent it as the infectious period precedes the onset of noticeable symptoms.

Blake has been in a holding pattern for almost three hours. He woke up at 7 o'clock and every 15 minutes after. At quarter to eight, I sent him upstairs to sleep on my dad's chest, thinking this might prolong his sleep. I was interrupted in my computer reverie by a tremendous crash: Blake had been crawling around, and although he could pull himself up to standing, he was far too groggy to stay up. It was a scary crash, the kind that provoked a half-hour of crying & a frantic check for soft spots & mismatched pupils. But he was fine, and he cheered up when given his floaty pig to mouth. A peaceful half hour later he was sent downstairs for sleep ("your pig wants to go to bed," my mom told him). 45 minutes later, he's been crying non-stop.

This is very, very unlike him. I prayed for strength more than a few times as he thrashed & screamed in my arms. The Boy's in there right now, and he seems to be putting the final touches on a baby who's cried himself hoarse.

Poor little guy.

Our afternoon, however, was uniformly excellent & gave no hint of the horrors to come. We hosted a Prenatal Class Pool Party (or PnCPP, as I love my acronyms) and had slightly better attendance than the last time: Dexter Detroit, Robbie Toronto & Eva New York plus all their moms. We do have our fun paddling around in the pool. But thank heaven for my parents & their decadent capitalist pool heater. It was cold today!

dexter! blake is on line one!

we all 'awww'ed when eva started kissing robbie's forehead,
but then she tried to bite. we all found this hilarious.

ohhh, man. Most Disastrous Couch Shot Ever. even robbie's upset.

in the aftermath of the Worst Couch Shot, robbie & dexter fell asleep nursing. we propped them up on the couch, where they were the cutest boys ever. here, blake takes a break from leaning on robbie's crotch to grab at a fascinating toy.

Still here? Okay. Last night I went to the local production of Urinetown, the Broadway hit written by the other parent of The East Village Inky. It was my birthday treat from my mom, who also sprung for a baby-t that says "don't be the bunny." (I plan to wear this t-shirt the next time I dress like a bunny . Fun!)

The show. Was. Amaaaaaaazing.

I don't think that I've ever had more fun in a theatre. It was a self-conscious giddy joy-ride through every fun cliché and then some. If you live in Toronto or New York or a town that will be covered by the upcoming tour, you MUST see it.

At the final curtain call, when the entire cast started dancing Russian folk-style and three of the main men started doing that roll & jump dance, I actually started screaming, "now that's what I'm talking about!! That was amazing!!" When we finally screamed ourselves hoarse & made our way out to the lobby, the hero of the play was out signing merchandise (including the Lysol toilet scrubber give-away). If I could, I would've bought him a pizza.

I found out today that my cousins have separated.

I'm really don't know what was the thin end of the wedge. My dad, source of this info, is much like myself in his ability to let a sensitive subject drop. I'm not sure if they need time to regroup or if this is it. I do know that they were divided on the issue of children; she married him with the idea that they would have some and then he changed his mind. Since a similar issue almost kept Preacher & his lady apart, I know that this can be a breaking point. But I don't know why it was now.

Mostly I'm scared. Scared because the marriages of my generation, the ones that took place around me and inspired me, are foundering & disintegrating. And I fear for my own marriage, now changed forever by the grey-eyed devil sleeping in the other room.

I probably just have the vapours. But I look at this picture of the Boy & I, taken at my cousins' wedding, and I wonder.

Some quick links & announcements:

First of all, my terribly dark little boy is Gothling of the Month! I originally submitted a picture of him with his bad-ass black t-shirt from The Alley, but when they asked for a more recent photo, I had nothing more devilish than the crawling-through-the-grass picture. So my little gothling is dressed in a white sleeper with baby carrots & sweet peas printed all over.

Heh. I'm going to teach him at least one baby sign: the wilting, back of the hand on the forehead sign. For "goth," of course. (Although I'm informed by Nicholas Grinder that goth is over. Oh well. Even that news is something else to be depressed about.)

Second of all, I have to thank Loftwyr for alerting his beloved (and by extension, everyone who reads her journal) to Lilypie & their terribly terribly cute baby tickers. This is exactly what I was looking for when I was pregnant; thank heaven I can use it to count up to Blake-a-boo's 1st birthday.

Thirdly, the saga of Preacher's wedding will be delayed, as I haven't written word one. But it'll be here sooner or later. This is just to inform interested parties to watch this space, because you don't want to miss "the holiest wedding [you'll] ever see."

There may have been more items, but this section took over 3 hours to write (what with the baby and all), so these three'll have to do.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 8/05/2004 11:26:00 p.m.