I've Built Up So Much Character, I Have An Alter-Ego

First off - I have a Follower! Huzzah! The fact that said Follower is my own wife does not diminish this achievement, as I never mentioned to her that it was an option on my blog now, and therefore she did it unsolicited.

So anyway, things are getting a little more normal around here. This may come as news to you all, given that I have written very little of the not-normal. But take my word for it: normalization is afoot.

I spent the earlier part of last week with an actual, factual fever - my first in who knows how long. The sore throat was pretty bad too. It kept me from eating much, and I learned that one can be so hungry that they can become nauseous. I also learned that there isn't much on TV in the afternoon.

My illness was a hand-me-down from PG, who had, as far as I know, the exact same thing the previous week. So I sympathized, in retrospect, with her unwillingness to eat or drink much for a few days. Of course, she didn't have the same problem with lack of good TV programming, thanks to a large supply of My Friends Tigger and Pooh on FiOS On Demand, so on the balance she probably had things a little easier. As of this writing, M has not gotten what PG and I had, though I suspect she's had it for a few days now and we can't really tell because it isn't nearly as bad for her. Dare to dream.

My sickness managed to time itself so that it began not only on Easter, but also on the day my Dad went back to the hospital. He only stayed a couple of days, and he seems to be back on track, recovery-wise, so no worries now. I was a little worried for a while there, though. And I couldn't visit once I knew I was in bad shape myself. That'll happen.

We had a birthday party for PG this past Sunday, almost a full week after her actual birthday. It wasn't really practical to do the party Easter weekend, so our choices were few. Besides, PG was recently recovered from a fever and mine was just beginning that weekend, not that that was any kind of factor when we picked the date a month ago.

The party went well, though I was only dimly aware of the goings-on at the time, since I was scrambling around cooking this and setting up that. Next year we're ordering pizza.

So, ever since we moved in last November, the door from the kitchen to the back porch has been locked at the doorknob, rather than the bolt. Neither M nor I wanted it that way, but we both thought that the other did and so didn't do anything about it. This proved to be almost disastrous.

Since the weather started getting warm, we've been having the occasional meal out on the porch, and that was where we were for breakfast on Sunday. PG got restless after finishing her breakfast, so we let her run around on the porch. I had kinda forgotten about her until M started yelling No-no-no. PG, y'see, had gone into the kitchen and was closing the door behind her, because closing doors is a form of entertainment when you're 2. The doorknob was, of course, still locked, because you don't really think about those things when a locked doorknob turns just fine from the inside.

I wouldn't be telling you this story if M had reached the door in time, of course. So we were outside, unable to get in, and PG was playing inside with neither the inclination nor ability (in all likelihood) to open the door back up, despite our repeated urgings for her to do so. Happily, we had opened the window that looks out onto the porch earlier, so it was just a matter of removing the screen from the outside, which isn't actually all that easy. I got it eventually, and all was right again. And the kitchen door now has a doorknob that always turns from the outside and a bolt that gets actual use.

(The song lyric is from "Blue Skies Over Dundalk" by Mary Prankster. It doesn't really apply to anything I just wrote. I just like the line and didn't really see any upcoming opportunity to use it in context. Having said that, I'll probably be going through a lot of character building and developing multiple personalities in the near future.)

All The Little Birds On J-Bird St. Love To Hear The Robin Goin' Tweet Tweet Tweet

After resisting it for a long, long time, I have finally given in and joined Twitter. I will be using it for random thoughts that don't require more than 140 characters. I may reprint them here, from time to time, if you'd rather just have your one-stop shopping here.

(Song quote: "Rockin' Robin" by Bobby Day. Do they still refer to Twitter posts as tweets, or has that term joined "hotlink" in the pantheon of web terms that didn't catch on?)

PrettyGirl Status Report

PrettyGirl continues to be pretty, of course. Just thought I'd get that out of the way.

She is also rapidly working her way towards a fully functional human brain. She is showing signs of having an imagination now, which is fun to watch. Just last night she got all nosy in the pantry (I need to remember to put a lock on that door) and pulled out an individually wrapped cup of applesauce. Rather than open it up and eat it herself, however, she decided that it was for Baby and proceeded to climb the stairs to her bedroom to find her baby doll and feed it. I knew this because of the following declaration as she was climbing the stairs:

Arsh mwaga Baby gose gwaga Baby. Oush.

Despite this unassailable logic, I did have to ultimately veto the idea, since I wasn't looking forward to applesauce getting all over the rug in her room. She tried to appeal the decision, but I held firm and she forgot about the applesauce as soon as we were back downstairs, taking issue instead with my decision to bring her downstairs too. An immediate return to the upstairs as soon as I put her down and the subsequent discovery of a Pooh book in Mommie and Daddy's room put the entire issue to rest in her mind.

So that story pretty much covers PG at the moment. Imaginative, babbling with an increasing use of English, and willful as hell. And, occasionally, easily distracted.

Though her birthday is still 12 days away, I've been considering her to be a 2-year-old for at least the past month.