Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

Well, that bug turned into a full-blown cold that’s keeping me barely functional.  Yesterday it got Sydney, and by the wee hours of this morning I was hearing Katherine snuffling, too.  Three sickies and a 6am flight tomorrow.  Fantastic.

Erin

Yesterday I came down with a bug that had me draped over the couch and unable to keep down food.  Today I’m doing a bit better, but Sydney’s doing worse.  And Katherine decided to boycott nap time yesterday.  Let’s hope she takes pity on us today!

Erin

Yesterday was not the first time that I’ve been grateful to have a cooking husband, but it might be one of the best.  His cousins stopped by on their way back home (Manitoba to Nova Scotia with three girls under the age of 7–they’re brave!) and we wanted to make them lunch.  So, while Sydney ran to the garden to get ingredients I made two salads and did some prep work.  But then Katherine woke up and I was suddenly fully occupied.  So I took care of Katherine while Sydney made three more dishes and a loaf of homemade bread.  Voila!  Lunch, and in quantity.  Not the first time I’ve heard a wife remark to her husband, “See, honey, Sydney cooks–and changes diapers!”

My mom always said that I should marry a man who cooked and worked with wood because it would be a tremendous help in the home and mean that I would get the furniture I wanted.  I ignored Mom and married Sydney, who didn’t, at that time, do the former, and who wasn’t, at that time, doing any of the latter.  But I’ve since become very, very grateful that he’s come out with these new and previously-hidden talents, with some major gardening on the side.  Thank you, Sydney 🙂

Erin

P.S. I often gripe about these very talents (e.g., the time spent gardening and not hiking, the dishes racked up from all the cooking, the mess from the woodworking), so I thought it only appropriate that I spend a bit of time being grateful for them.

Sydney and I have noticed that, despite our being a bass and alto, respectively, Katherine only seems to care for our highest, squeakiest ranges.  I thought I would be singing slow, low lullabies to my babe, but she apparently had something else in mind.  Today I hit upon the yodeling song from The Sound of Music (yes, you know the one), which had Katherine riveted.  I’m no Julie Andrews, but I did my best, and she smiled and laughed the whole way through.  I’ll just hope that no neighbors come walking by our open windows at a bad time . . .

Erin

Now I understand the parents of newborns who run from their houses and beg people to keep it down because their infant is finally sleeping.  Katherine, bless her, is a good sleeper, but I’ve been struggling to find time to work each day and it hasn’t been terribly successful thus far.  This morning she is sleeping in and I’m getting some work done . . . and then the road crew comes by, revs up a chainsaw outside my front windows, and starts throwing large chunks of trees into the chopper.  It’s only 8am!!!

Erin

Today we picked 25 pounds of blueberries, 20 of which went in the freezer this afternoon.  We look forward to using the other five pounds for a dinner with friends tomorrow and for fresh eating every time we think about it.  Having missed strawberry season, I wasn’t about to miss the blueberries, too!  Sydney did the lion’s share of the picking, while I picked from the top of the plants and rocked Katherine to sleep in the backpack.

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This is the last week of Sydney’s summer pedagogy course.  Since it is, as a friend of mine would call it, a major time-suck, we’re very glad to put that behind us.

* * *

A week from tomorrow, Katherine and I will leave on an early-morning flight to Iowa, where we’ll spend a week with my parents.  They haven’t seen her since she was two weeks old and are clamoring for more granddaughter time.  I plan to attach a small backpack to the baby backpack, tuck Katherine in the pack, and book it through Detroit’s airport to catch my second flight.  I hope I can move faster than the turtle that I will resemble!

* * *

Friday night, after coming home from an evening with friends, I thought I would “quickly whip up a loaf of banana bread” while Sydney played with Katherine.  Well, nights are apparently not my best time: I tried blending my finger with my immersion blender and ended up making a late-night trip to the hospital.  My finger should be fine, though I can’t be sure that any of the hospital staff were paying enough attention to me to have given me a thorough diagnosis; Cutie Katherine was quite a distraction!

* * *

This week marks the end of July and the beginning of August.  Although it is my birthday month and I love it dearly, it marks the stirrings of the beast: school is about to begin, and in earnest.  We’re coming to an end of the time given us to adjust to life with Katherine, and we’re about to begin a very busy semester.  We’re both teaching classes of our own design, we both have to work up dissertations, and we’re both going on the job market.  Not to mention the sizable task of becoming decent parents for Katherine.  Deep breath, and here we go!

Erin

Here‘s a curious piece about the happy relationship between Hitler and the US advertising industry.

Sydney

“You’re definitely cuter than I am.  You get to walk into the library.”

“Not a chance.  I’m soaked in sweat and so un-cute I disgust myself.”

“I don’t think athletic pants are decent enough to wear on a ball field,  let alone in a library.  Besides, I smell awful.”

“I don’t have my ID.  I win.  You get to go.”

Erin

Yesterday I took the time to return my dishcloths to their original white color, and I wondered what had happened to alter them so drastically in the first place.  Today I absentmindedly wiped the counter with my newly-white cloth and ended up with a brilliantly yellow dishcloth, thanks to the turmeric that I used to make curry.  Oh.  That’s how.

Erin