St. Patrick's day observations

So, we didn't so much celebrate St. Patrick's day on St. Patrick's day this year. Sylvia had a class party on Friday, the 16th, and the closest we came to a remembrance on the day itself came in the form of green eggs for Sylvia's breakfast Saturday and potato tacos for dinner that night. We set a leprechaun trap that evening, though, and we did catch something...




Spicy, green candied popcorn!

Conscious of the world around her

This afternoon I went on a lovely walk with two of the women I work with in primary. Sadly, it turns out one of them (the president) is moving shortly, so we won't be working together much longer. Happily, she's not moving far away, so our regular Sunday afternoon walks may continue for a while. As an aside, I also probably won't be in primary much longer unless the new primary president asks for me as a counselor or in some other capacity.

Anyway, the walking was lovely, even with two kids in tow. Sylvia finally cajoled us into stopping to let her play at one of the playgrounds, which she took full advantage of. After really quite a while playing nicely on the playground, she made a break for the water, which I wasn't about to let her go into alone, or when it's barely 65 degrees (if that), so we continued back to cars and went home.

On the way we heard NPR discussing the killing of Afghan civilians by a US service member. Sylvia very pointedly, and specifically, asked why the man killed the women and children. I wish I had a good response. The best I could do was tell her I didn't know, but sometimes people do things they shouldn't do because they get too stressed and don't know how to deal with it. I have no idea of the guys has PTSD or some other mental instability, but at this point that's the most obvious explanation to my mind. I hope the explanation at the very least doesn't make Sylvia more worried.

It's scary how observant she's becoming, and how much more she understands about what's going on or being discussed around her. Most of the time I admit I giggle under my breath a little at the way she sees certain things, like today when she told me she didn't want to "get dead" in the parking lot so she was going to hold my hand (which she did at least most of the way to the car). Other times, though, it's heart-wrenching to hear her trying to make sense of things that just don't make sense, like a man killing unarmed women and children in their homes in the dead of night with no explanation.

He so owes me

When Sylvia puked at her Uncle Philip's wedding, she'd been drinking a fruity, cherry-flavored beverage all afternoon, so her vomit pretty much smelled like cherries. Tonight, when Sylvia swallowed her cherry-flavored mouthwash and then puked it and what looked like everything she'd eaten all day, it smelled exactly the same.

I hate that smell.

Fortunately, taking care of vomited-covered bedsheets by myself is much easier at home, with a hose, than in an unfamiliar hotel by myself (Derrick was at the rehearsal--projectile vomit was only a valid excuse for the one of us with no active part to play in the wedding). After stripping Sylvia, bathing her, stripping her bed, and hosing everything off, I took a shower.

Paul enjoyed the shower, too. He's had a nasty cold for the past week that at times has left him wheezing in way that almost sent us to the doctor. Almost. Except for the whole, they can't actually do anything unless it's real respiratory distress (which it wasn't). In case you're wondering, he's feeling better. I have hopes that the shirt I wear tomorrow won't be covered with a network of snot stains.

I haven't told Derrick about Sylvia's puking. I probably won't for a while yet so I don't distract him. You may wonder why he's not experiencing this himself--at the moment he's interviewing for a real job at a university in New Mexico. It's pretty exciting. Even if he doesn't get the job (and he's apparently one of five candidates, so it's far from certain) it's still pretty exciting he's got an interview. I'm glad it'll be over soon, though. Since they informed him of the interview he's had an impossible time sleeping and has been so focused on his talk it's been pretty much the only subject of all conversations with him. Not that the bodily fluids of our children are more interesting to discuss (they're not) but it'll be nice to have him back and capable of listening to the rest of us.

I didn't put him there

He's pulling himself up to standing position now. Not only can he scoot around on the floor, I think it won't be long before he's cruising.

Paul update

Paul is again measuring long and skinny. He's 17 lb, 3 oz (7.769 kg), which is about 30th percentile, and 27 3/4 inches (70.5 cm), which is about 80th percentile for length. He's growing well, developing well, and is happy, friendly (as long as he's in my lap), and a joy to have around.

And he's ready for Easter!