I am now convinced that there is next to nothing more heartbreaking than your first child’s first respiratory infection.
We have had six months of no ear infections, coughs, or runny noses. I managed to catch the flu when Kylie was five days old (probably from the hospital). My little sister, who resides down the hall, suffered from so many bouts of tonsillitis and strep throat before Thanksgiving that everyone (including her) lost count. Jason has brought home at least two upper respiratory infections. Yet, somehow Kylie has managed to repel all of these. Sickness is inevitable. It was only a matter of time.
Poor baby girl has an ear infection… in both ears. And her cough rattles from deep within her chest. She tries to eat but it hurts her ears to swallow. She yelps and then goes back to try again. Then she coughs and chokes and can’t catch her breath. Then she cries and reaches out for the bottle. Once this process has exhausted her she tries to sleep, but the ears and the coughing and the stuffy nose prevent this as well. So she rolls from her back to her side with her eyes closed, beating on her chest, whimpering until sleep overcomes her.
Its the soft whimpering. That’s the worst part. Babies are supposed to scream and cry. That’s what I’m used to. That’s what I can handle. They don’t need to whimper.
Beautiful, beautiful weekend. Minus the car accident...
So much for cleaning house.
Saturday morning, Jason and I planned a day of productivity. We had this ambitious, yet totally accomplishable list of tasks to be completed. We ran a few errands, but were soon intoxicated by the sunshine. We threw the list out of the truck window, and went back to the house to collect Ashley and Madison for a beach excursion. Kylie’s and Madison’s first trip to the beach was wonderful; the perfect afternoon. We desperately needed a day out together.
Of course, balance in the universe needed to be preserved, so we had a car accident on the way home on our perfect afternoon. It wasn’t too bad; luckily no one was injured. Timing=crappy.
We had a studio invasion. Over the course of two days, fifty (yes 50) kids took over the studio to paint their own versions of Starry Night. We were so glad to have them, even if somewhere along the line paint brushes were ditched and little fingers scooped paint to canvas instead.
After putting the studio back in order yesterday afternoon, I had a four hour “break” to go home and play with the darling little girl who takes away my sleep. Knowing that rest was not an option, I scooped her up to enjoy some of the beautiful weather. Rolling in the grass was a no-go, so we opted for enjoying the swing on the pier. She loved watching the pelicans and giggled when boats came by and scattered them. Then she projectile vomited squash on both of us. Lovely.
Last night I had the pleasure of teaching yet another fleur de lis class at Canvas and Cocktails. Holy hell. I know that its a popular decor item here, and I know that the Saints won the superbowl. Honestly. People need to find the desire to paint something else. Just sayin…
It’s official. I’m exhausted. Its turning out to be such a beautiful day, but after another terrible night where very little sleeping took place and a 3 hour naptime fight with an exhausted almost six month old I am in one of the worst possible moods. Today is just one of those awful days. I find myself choosing to lay down rather than eat, even though I’m starving. My head is killing me. I wish there was someone here to take care of me. Maybe naptime will give K an attitude adjustment, and we can spend the afternoon in the sunshine. I think a little sun will do wonders for our collective mood, but I feel like we’ll never get there.
Yesterday Canvas Kids hosted a field trip. 22 12-year-olds invaded the studio for some starry night painting. They came from a school system that cut the art program, so most of them had never had an art lesson. They had so much fun and left planning to come back for their birthday parties! I hope they do. All kids should be able to paint/be creative on a regular basis. So sad that when budgets get cut, art can be the first thing to go. It really is heart-breaking.
This weekend we celebrated the marriage of James and Melissa. It was the first wedding Jason and I attended since our own, and it really made me realize how far this past year has taken us. As we were scurrying around Saturday morning in search of appropriate attire (because, of course, all of my clothing is either in storage or so unorganized I cannot find anything) Jason and I somehow got in a discussion about the state of our lives right now.
We’ve been through some major life changes this year. With marriage and a baby has come a sort of identity crisis. By starting a new life as partners for eternity, we have lost a sense of who we are independently of each other. I went from a full time art student to a wife and mother and homemaker. My entire day is devoted to loving the most adorable little girl I could ever ask for, instead of homework and painting and drawing and reading. I miss my books and getting charcoal all over my feet from drawing in my tiny kitchen-turned-art studio. This drastic change in my life raises questions of who I am and who I will become. I am excited about the coming of spring and beautiful days for walks and park visits. I am excited about the way that creative individual and book lover will merge with wife and mother. I have these wonderful dreams somtimes about walks with Kylie in the sunshine, about arts and crafts with an older version of my daughter, and about huge, freeing paintings to be created when I can begin to claim some time for myself again.