When Worlds Collide

Hello all. [Place obligatory apology for not posting lately, along with reasons/excuses, here].

A few weeks ago, M took PG in for her annual dentist appointment. Afterward, they called me from the car on speakerphone so PG could tell me her big news. As is often the case when PG is asked to say something on the phone, I was given some time to anticipate what, exactly, would be said once the kid actually spoke up. And I could not, for the life of me, think of what could possibly be big news after a routine dentist appointment. I ruled out cavities - the mood on the other side of the phone call was far too upbeat for that. Perhaps they were giving away Dora toothbrushes now? I had no idea.

What happened was that the hygienist discovered not one, but two loose teeth. I was not prepared for this news. PG wasn't even five yet! Are baby teeth supposed to come out so soon? I lost my first one when I was almost six. Nevertheless, there were two loose teeth, with their permanent replacements already poking out behind them.

Thus, I was called to my Tooth Fairy duties a bit earlier than expected. I got the job because my stealth skills are more developed than M's. The first tooth came out a few days after the dentist visit, and the tooth-for-money exchange was pretty straightforward, though I did doze off after PG went to bed and had to be woken up to go take care of it. PG was very excited to get her money and disregarded the social conventions associated with waiting until morning to spread the news, rather than spreading it upon discovering the money at 3:00 AM.

The second tooth came out the night before Easter, which meant that our house would have two visitors that night, since the Easter Bunny would be making his rounds too. That's what one might call "an opportunity."

Sure enough, PG awoke in the middle of the night to find that the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny had crashed into each other, leaving a jelly bean in her tooth pillow and her tooth money divided up into three different plastic eggs, one of which was left on the floor of her room. Naturally, she let us know without delay that this had occurred.

Perhaps next time, the Tooth Fairy will also leave a note urging PG to not bug Mommie and Daddy until morning. Assuming, of course, that the next tooth holds out until PG can read.

Bum-Bum-Buuummmmm!

Last week PG got herself in trouble again at preschool. While the kids were at their cubbies to get their coats for playing outside, PG "decided to pull down her pants and show a female friend her bottom."

An incident report was written up, and M had to meet with the preschool director when she arrived to pick PG up at the end of the day. So it was clearly a serious incident. And yet, I can't help but be amused. Obviously, I didn't laugh it off around PG, because, you know, discipline and all that. And I can see why this is the sort of thing that should be strongly discouraged. But I can also see why she thought it was a funny thing to do.

It doesn't help that the preschool director mentioned that the teacher only saw the tail end of the incident.

Capturing My Essence

A few months ago, M went to the annual Start Of The School Year Parent Thing at PG's preschool, leaving me at home to take care of bath and bedtime. PG and I were in the bathroom - I think she had just finished her bath - when I got a picture text from M. She had taken a picture of this drawing hanging on the classroom wall, where the kids had put up drawings of their families.

The first thought that came to mind, besides being honored that I merited being the subject of PG's family drawing, was what's going on under my mouth. Was I sticking out my tongue? Had I gotten spaghetti sauce on my chin? Before I could even ask PG, she explained that she couldn't remember what my beard looked like, so she guessed. So, that's my beard, to the best of PG's memory.

She got my hairline right, anyway.

This, by the way, is the picture I almost faxed five copies of to Merrill Lynch, mentioned in the previous post.

You'll Bounce Your Eye Out!

Friday morning we went to the Festival of Trees over at the Fairgrounds. M had scored some free tickets that got us in a few hours before the official opening, so it was reasonably uncrowded, and the kids' rides were free for those couple of hours. Breakfast was also included, and we certainly got our money's worth there (I'll take this moment to remind you, the reader, that we didn't pay anything.) They had a band there doing a Christmas show. They looked more like the type to be doing Stone Temple Pilots covers instead, which made me wonder if this is the direction the band had hoped to make in their career. If not, they were at least cheerful enough about the paying gig.

Though PG had her pick of any free ride or activity, she remained pretty exclusive with the Moon Bounce. The kid does like to bounce. We eventually dragged her away to do some face painting. Kid likes to get painted up too. This, however, turned out not to be free, but rather $12. But they were selling lollipops for a buck a pop, and there was a slight chance of winning a free face painting if you bought one.

While M was mulling this over, I wandered back towards the band, because it sounded a lot like they were playing "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister, and that is a development that cannot be ignored when at a Christmas shindig. It turned out they were singing the words to "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" over the music. So, points for making the best of the situation, guys and girl.

When I returned, I learned of the happy news that PG scored a free face painting on her first lollipop. So she got all painted up. Then she went back to the Moon Bounce, which, by this point, was no longer free, as 10 AM had rolled around, and the general public had entered the building. We got her a $5 wristband that gave her unlimited moon bounce opportunities, and she did about $8 worth of bouncing, so it was money well spent.

Also included in this Festival of Trees were, coincidentally enough, Christmas trees, decorated by various groups and up for sale at the Festival. Among the trees was a Christmas Story tree, festooned with Christmas Story themed ornaments. You think I got pictures? You bet I did.

Didn't Even Find A Running Mate

I got nothin' tonight, so here's a graphic from a fake campaign that I made but didn't do anything with a few years back.

Fingertips 2: Electric Boogaloo

* Operation Avoid Getting A McRib was a success! I finally caved in and went to McDonalds today, only to discover that the Limited Time had come to an end. I heard that one of the ingredients in the McRib is also used in yoga mats, so I consider that a bullet dodged.

* I've said it before, and it's been said by many others, but here it is again. If it's before Thanksgiving, I do not want to see Christmas decorations. I flat out declined M's request to drive by a neighbor's house that had already been decorated and lit last night. I don't know why, for sure, why it bothers me, but it does. No Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving, kthxbye.

* I almost didn't post anything tonight. Way too tired to write much on the various topics I have in mind. Finally decided to just go to the short thoughts well again, as that is better than nothing.

* Went to my nephew's piano recital with PG today. I give PG's behavior a B+, overall. She managed to stay distracted for a while by the sketch book I gave her to draw in and the comics I gave her to read. But eventually she started getting squirmy and asking when it would be over. Quietly, thus only getting docked down to a B+. She also showed interest in the actual recital for a while, which was nice of her.

* Made pancakes with mint M&Ms in them this morning. Sometimes you have to experiment to know what you like, don't like, or find yourself indifferent about. For me, mint M&M pancakes fall into the third category.

* I've had a graphic design business for about three years now, and I still have just the one client. I may elaborate on this topic later, most likely when I have the energy for it.

* My mom departed this world for the Great Beyond 18 years ago today. Things would have been very different if that hadn't happened. For one thing, my kid would have a different name.

* I'm having problems again remembering if conversations I've had or things that have happened actually happened or if I dreamed them. Must remember to ask M if she suggested seeing Gone With The Wind or if I dreamed that. It would be easier to figure out if Gone With The Wind wasn't, in fact, going to be showing at a local theater next month.

* Is this enough to make a decent-sized post? Is is? Super. Time for bed.

Kickin' It 5-7-5

Gonna lay down some haiku now...

Blog banner is old
Wonder if PG will pose
New one PG-less?

Pizza Movie Night
Every Friday with PG
She picks the movie

Heffalump Movie
Not the best of the Pooh films
Not-great pizza too

Way too much candy
My desk is a sugar trap
Fattened for winter


Lest I offend fans of Pooh's Heffalump movie, I will note it's still better than a lot of the stuff PG watches. It's just not, you know, the best Pooh has to offer.

Fingertips

Random thoughts tonight. I don't have enough in the ol' brain tank to do a single-topic post, and time is running out to come up with something.

* Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes fame) doesn't have the best parents. They seem to have no sense of humor at all and don't indulge his imagination one iota. Kinda depressing.

* PG has been remarkably well-behaved as of late. True, she has two or three, maybe four, meltdowns a day, but they don't last long. Otherwise, she's been good about listening to us. In fact, she went to Target with M tonight and started saying she wanted this toy and that toy, but then clarified that she meant for Christmas. So we've gotten through to her with the whole "you'll have to ask Santa" thing.

* I went back to my November 2007 posts, the last time I did the NaBloPoMo thing, to get some inspiration. I think my writing's gotten better since then. I'd like to think I've dialed it back on blathering about the boring minutia of my life, anyway. Also: Mission Accomplished on the getting some inspiration.

* This post's title is a reference to a collection of five to ten-second songs at the end of They Might Be Giants' Apollo 18 album. But you probably already know that from the Facebook status. Is anybody coming here that wasn't alerted to the new post by Facebook?

* It's entirely possible that I've used that title before. Same for the Calvin and Hobbes thing. Both sound like something I would have done in the past. Mixed in with the boring minutia, of course.

* The experts say that the best way to avoid a cold is to get plenty of rest. While I'm pretty sure that ship has already sailed (assuming a sore throat-only situation counts as a cold,) I'm going to go to bed now. I think I've written enough to qualify as a real post.

Overlooked Details

There has been suspicion that PG has had another growth spurt, so M decided to measure her on the doorway where we have been keeping track of these things. It was determined that PG had grown an inch since she had been last measured, about a month and a half ago.

Then we noticed that she was still wearing her boots. Upon removing the boots and re-measuring, it was determined that PG's boots have inch-thick soles.

Not Gonna Roll A 436,285,194,397,075 Again

A friend of mine recently Shared upon the Facebook a graphic, showing the odds that any specific person could have come into being. You can see it here. Spoiler alert: The odds are so small that they might as well be zero.

The point I'm about to make was inspired by just part of the chart, however. The part that says that the odds that your parents got together and had you, specifically, instead of a different kid, is 1 in 400 quadrillion.

Here's where it gets geeky. Here's where I talk about time travel like it's a real thing.

Maybe I'm alone in this, among my readers, but I have often thought about the possibilities if I could go back and do it over. I could double major in computer science and mass communications and be all set for getting into the web design biz as it was becoming a thing (though I was using the internet as early as 1987, the World Wide Web wasn't created until I was already about halfway through college, and I first heard of it about a week after I graduated.) I could buy Apple stock when my CompUSA co-workers were still insisting that Apple was not much longer for this world. I could bet on the last-place Twins and Braves meeting in the next year's World Series (assuming a 19-year-old would be allowed to place a bet anywhere.) Stuff like that. But even if I somehow got the ability to go back in time, with my 2011 knowledge, and do it over, I wouldn't. Because I like my daughter.

There is a lot going on in my life that's good, and most of it could be made to happen again. I met M at a specific time in a specific manner that would be easy enough to do again. But, as the aforementioned odds indicate, it would be pretty much impossible to ensure that PG, specifically, would exist in my new timeline. The... ahem... circumstances that led to her coming into being would have to occur at precisely the same nanosecond that they did before. I don't even know what day it was!

So no going back for me. I'm glad I came to this important decision, because it would totally be possible, otherwise.

While we're on the subject, this is also why Marty McFly and his siblings were doomed the moment he came into contact with his parents in 1955 in Back To The Future. There's no way Marty could have returned to 1985 and have anybody there know who he was.

A Return To Co-Parenting

M returned yesterday, safe and sound. So ends my total authority over all things PG. It was a good run, while it lasted, but it's good to have backup again.

I'd say the only real hassle, such as it was, was the loss of tactical freedom. Once PG was home from preschool, anything I wanted to do outside of the house had be done with kid in tow or with the acquisition of a babysitter. Not that I had anywhere that I urgently needed to go, but the little errands I would have liked to have done ended up getting backburnered.

I did also have a little bit of a... not a "panic" so much as a "concern," when I realized, the night before PG's ballet class, that I wasn't sure what needed to be done to get her ready for class. I managed okay, thanks to dredging up memories of casual observation of previous weeks' preparations, deciding not to take PG's word for it when she said her hair didn't need to be in ponytail, and, of course, talking to M on the phone when she unexpectedly called about an hour after I had the aforementioned realization.

I'm writing this post on a friend's HP Touchpad, by the way. Easier than I thought it would be, though moving the cursor around would be easier with some arrow keys.

Flyin' Solo

M's cousin got married last night in New Orleans, and M went down there to see it happen. She's happy to have any excuse to go back to NOLA for a few days and see as many friends and family as is humanly possible. Budget restrictions dictated that PG and I stay home, however. And so, I've been a single parent for about 72 hours now.

I'm happy to report that, as of this writing, PG remains intact and in good health. So that's a win. I'm pretty sure I managed to do the job competently. My mother once came home from a road trip with her singing group to find the family room window open and children entering and exiting the house via that route. In my dad's defense, the children in question included my cousins, as well as my brother, so there were an aunt and uncle there as well to allow or disallow such tomfoolery. But my point here is that such shenanigans have not broken out under my watch so, again: Win.

PG has been surprisingly well behaved during this time. I'm not sure if this is because she's just been in a good place, discipline-wise, or if I've been too lenient and thus not setting the bar high enough to get a fight out of her. I'm gonna give the kid (and myself) some credit and say that it's Option A.

I'm now noting the time and realizing that maybe I should feed my child some lunch, being as lunchtime is typically an hour and a half ago. We did have a late breakfast, so it's not all that bad, but I should get moving on that. I probably should make an effort to put her down for a nap too, though I'd probably be more successful getting our fish to wear PG's ballet tutu. PG isn't much of a napper anymore.

More later, maybe.

Don't Do What Donny Don't Does

So, yeah... You've probably already heard that there was an earthquake around these parts. What was probably a normal Tuesday afternoon in California was a bit of a new experience for Maryland, and mistakes were made.

* My first thought was that a large truck was driving by. Apparently, my instincts believe that trucks come in sizes ranging up to that of a large building.

* I had just turned on the oven when the initial tremors came up the pike. Two hours later, I realized that maybe I should have turned off the gas oven when the kitchen started shaking. Because open flame and broken gas lines tend to lower the value of one's house.

* I followed the rule about getting under a doorway at first, but then wanted to make sure that it wasn't actually a JC Penny's rolling through my neighborhood, so I went to the window to look outside.

I'm sure after more Monday-morning quarterbacking, I'll come up with more, but you get the idea.

Incidentally, it appears that the only damage sustained on my house is that a pen fell off a dresser in my room. I can't be 100% sure that it wasn't already on the floor before the earthquake, though. I also can't be sure if the toppled mess on PG's art table was due to the quake or due to a messy kid.

A Pretty Update

It's been a while since I've written a post dedicated to the happenings with PG. This needs to be rectified (as does, come to think of it, the lack of posts about anything over the past month.)

After all, this here blog has served us well as a substitute for a baby book. Which probably wasn't necessary, since we have an actual baby book that hasn't seen much info put into it since PG was a few months old. Nevertheless, this has been the source of info we've consulted when trying to remember something about PG's past. When did she have that ear infection in '08, and how many different antibiotics did it take to get rid of it? Let's check the blog! How old was PG when she said her first word ("Da")? To the blog!

And so, here are some notes about the prettiest of pretty girls.

24/7
PG has been incorporating the phrase "All day long" into conversation a lot lately. Sometimes, it's completely appropriate, e.g. "Ariel will sleep here all day long while Mommy is at work." (Said while cleaning up, post-bath, and sticking a small Little Mermaid figurine into a Little Mermaid castle that's suction-cupped to the side of the tub.) Sometimes, it's not quite as appropriate, such as when she is told she needs to take off her princess dress, and she says something like "But it's so pretty all day long!" (said with her hands out in a "well, obviously" kind of shrug, to accentuate the unassailablity of her logic.)

Also, the other night she was digging around in her drawer for a pair of socks. She pulled out a pair and said "These will be good socks to wear. Around the world."

Wearing Them With Sicks Would Be A Fashion Faux Pas
PG recently got a pair of pink Crocs with Dora on them. She calls them her "cricks." I briefly considered correcting her, thus improving her vocabulary skills and bringing her closer to becoming a mature speaker. Instead, I have decided to let the mispronunciation continue on for as long as humanly possible because she's so cute when she says it.

Straight A's So Far
PG was given her first assessment of the preschool year recently. The questions covered her ability to recognize words that rhyme, words that are part of another word ("Find the picture of 'turkey' without the 'tur'" - the answer being the picture of the key,) the letter that makes the "tuh" sound, number recognition, that sort of thing. Out of 20 questions, she got 18 right. I don't know if that makes her above average or just on the developmental pace one should expect from a three-year-old, but in any event it's a 90%, and that is an A.

The Unexpected Variable
First of all, you all know about the movie Tangled, yes? The Disney adaptation of Rapunzel? Anyway, in the trailer, our Flawed Hero the thief steals something, escapes his pursuers, climbs into a tall tower and finds himself beaten around and ultimately restrained by moving blond hair that turns out to be attached to our Heroine, Rapunzel. PG loves the trailer.

So, M and PG had the following conversation [as provided by M]

M: We're going to see Tangled, the Rapunzel movie
PG: Her hair wasn't nice
M: Oh, you mean, it was beating up the guy in the movie?
PG: Yeah
M: Does your hair do that?
PG: No, I don't have a tower

Locked Up In A Tower Ourselves
At some point, PG figured out that Mommie and Daddy don't stay upstairs after she goes to bed, but instead go into the basement to watch TV. Couldn't tell you when, exactly, she figured that out, but a few weeks ago she decided that she'd rather not be left alone upstairs. And so, she insists that somebody stay up there. The key here is that she believes that someone is upstairs with her. It doesn't necessarily have to be true. She did spot-checks for a while, calling out to make sure that somebody answers her, but lately she's just assumed that someone is up there.

The problem is that the hardwood floors are very creaky, so if we try to sneak downstairs, she knows it and will call ya on it. And thus, one of us has to stay upstairs until she's not only asleep, but asleep enough to not be awakened by creaking floors. M usually goes first, since she doesn't have the stealth skills that I have, and her departure is more detectable. If that doesn't get a callout from PG's room, then I'm free and clear! If it does, then I stick around for a few minutes and then get all ninja on the floor and stair boards. Sometimes it works, sometimes I'm running back upstairs to pretend that I've been there all along (she probably doesn't buy the act, but she quiets back down in any event.)

Obviously, we're gonna have to nip this in the bud or hope that she sucks it up on her own soon. But for now, it adds an interesting challenge to the evening. And sometimes, a little extra sleep, as I fell asleep around 9:00 last night while waiting the kid out. Around 3:00 AM, I got up to go to the bathroom and a sleepy voice called out "Mommy? Are you here?"

******************************

I guess that will do for now. If anything else comes to mind, I'll pass it along!

Journey Into The Deep South: Part 4 Through 9

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

As you can probably guess, things got a little busy once we got into the whole New Orleans thing.  I ended up using my free time to post pictures (a process that took a long time on our ancient laptop getting a spotty Wi-Fi signal,) leaving me with time enough to work on this blog post almost to the point where it was ready to publish, but never quite there.   So here's how Monday through Saturday went.

Monday was a nice, if unexciting, day.  We went to City Park with M's friend from elementary, middle, and high school and her daughters.  PG got along famously with the five year old, and there was much fun and frolic.  And near heart attacks for me, as my kid climbed the precarious big kid playground equipment.  Also, PG grabbed a statue's naughty bits, a picture of which has been well-received and will someday be featured at her wedding.

We got po'boys at Parkway Bakery for lunch that day.  It's the same place President Obama went to, when he was in New Orleans earlier this year.  I'd venture to guess he didn't have the same thing I had.  Not very presidential to have mayo and grease on your hands.

Tuesday we took the ferry across the Mighty Mississipp and went to the Aquarium.  PG's favorite part, among all the fish and frogs, was the playground equipment in Pirate Cove.  Her least favorite part was clocking her forehead on a crossbar on the playground equipment while climbing up the ramp.  Interestingly, the least scar-inducing accident she had this week is the one for which she received medical attention.  It was the first place we've been where first responders were on hand.  She checked out A-OK.

Wednesday we went to the cemetery to visit M's parents and then to Liuzza's for lunch.  Almost a whole week in New Orleans, and that's the only time I had red beans and rice.

Liuzza's had something that I've seen at several restaurants:  A picture of the outside of the restaurant in the immediate aftermath of Katrina, under the water.  I also saw a Starbuck's with a line painted along the outside that noted the flood line, and Brocado's (where we had some yummy sweets) had the water line noted in a brass engraving on the inside of their door.  It goes to show how much they've recovered.

We also went to the Superdome on Wednesday.  We were hoping to get some Saints stuff at the team store there, but the prices were a bit... premium.  I guess when one is at a game and feelin' da Who Dat, one feels more motivated to pay through the nose.  We also checked out Champions' Square.  Yeah... not all that impressive, really.

Wednesday night it finally occurred to me to use the laptop to check for Wi-Fi signals near the house.  I had already checked for connections on the iPod (it was, in fact, the very first thing I did the moment I stepped into the house for the first time,) and had failed with that, but I thought the laptop might have a better search range.  Sure enough, I found one of the neighbor's unsecured wireless network, so I leeched off of that.  It wasn't the greatest signal, but it got the job done.

Thursday, we went to the Audubon Zoo, where, as the song indicates, dey all ask'd for you.  Well, the monkeys did, anyway.  We didn't see the tigers or the elephant.

The Maryland Zoo is nice, but the Audubon Zoo is better.  You get a better vantage point on the animals, by and large, at the Audubon.  Especially the large cats.  I suppose it's nice for the cheetah in Maryland that it has more room to roam than the jaguars at the Audubon, but good luck seeing much of the cheetah.

We also went to Drew Brees' house, while we were in the neighborhood.  We had seen the pictures of the front of his house right after the Superbowl, when the front gate was covered in signs and Abita six-packs, thanking him for what he's done for the city.  So we figured that there would be stuff all over, considering that his second son had just been born (front page news on the Times-Picayune,) and the weather was nice enough to leave teddy bears and congratulatory cards out front.  But there was nothing.  I didn't even bother getting out of the car to take pictures (I did take pictures from the car, of course.)  M had written a nice card for Drew and Brittany, so she left that on top of the speakerphone at the gate, and we went on our merry way.

Dinner that night, in our continuing food tour of New Orleans, was Joey K's.  I had yet another fried shrimp po'boy.  Because they rock.

On Friday, we finally went in among the tourists in the French Quarter.  Had beignets and Cafe Au Lait at a very crowded Café Du Monde.  PG and a new friend (she made a lot of new friends this week, as a lot of M's friends have kids too) ran around Jackson Square like goofballs.  Went into St. Louis Cathedral, where Tiana got married in Princess And The Frog.  Squeezed our way through a crowded French Market, where PG blew off some steam in the hay maze, which, it turns out, cost $5 to do but PG did for free because nobody was paying attention for a good long while.  The food tour continued at the Louisiana Pizza Kitchen for lunch.

Friday night was Ghosts In The Oaks at City Park, where we debuted our Backyardigan costumes.  We weren't expecting anyone to recognize our get-ups, but we ended up getting a pretty good reception from the masses.  And, in a sea of ghosts, witches, and Spidermen, we were the only Backyardigans in town.

Saturday was spent packing.  I was sent to the grocery to get some milk so we could finish off the cereal we bought on Sunday and proceeded to barely eat.  I had no idea where, exactly, the grocery was and planned on just looking around the general area until I found it.  But a neighbor happened to be outside, so I asked her.  After trying to give directions without being entirely sure the name of the street it was on, she just gave me a ride there.  I know you're not supposed to accept rides from strangers, but I figured I could take her on, if need be.

All packed, we left the house for the last time, after six days of cramped showers and four bed collapses.  We stopped by Mahoney's for one last stop on the food tour.  M and I had the same kind of po'boys we had been having all week (roast beef for her, fried shrimp for me.)  PG finally scored herself a grilled cheese.  Then we took one more trip to Hansen's for the best snowballs ever.  I'm not talking about the gravel-ice snowballs we have in Baltimore.  These were nice and slushy.  One might say they were quite snow-like.

Then we left on a jet plane, not knowing when we'll be back again.

One final word, regarding PG.  We were pretty nervous about how she would conduct herself on this trip.  We were expecting some resistance when it came time to do her flower girl thing.  She did her job perfectly.  The only glitch is that she scratched her face just as I was taking the picture.  And the scarring of her nose the day before, of course.  We figured all the running around here and there would make her cranky.  It kinda did, but she kept the outbursts to much more of a minimum than we would have expected.  She was as much of a model citizen as you can expect from a three-year-old.

So that's it.  It went well.  Now we detox before going back to our weekday routine tomorrow.

Journey Into The Deep South: Part 2

Need to catch up?  I've got a Prologue, wherein I give some background about our trip, and a Part 1, wherein my daughter resembles a Bajoran.

Saturday... the day of the wedding.  The day that we had faced with some uncertainty for a little over a year, as our three and a half year old daughter was going to be a hopefully non-disruptive part of a fairly big wedding.

There were a few harbingers of doom in the morning.  For one thing, PG wasn't being the best listener.  For another, she wiped out yet again while running on the sidewalk during a leisurely stroll along the mighty Mississippi River.  Both turned out to be false alarms - once she had some chocolate muffin in her tummy, the ears started working better, and, despite being face-down on the sidewalk, only her knees were slightly scuffed by the fall.

PG got her hair done and her Bajoran nose covered up with makeup that helped a little but not entirely.  And then it was off to the church!  PG brought along her friends Pink Doggie and Uniqua (of Backyardigans fame,) but only Pink Doggie made it as far as the shuttle trolley that had been commissioned for the wedding.  So I took the trolley back to the hotel and eventually found Uniqua at the front desk.  A friend of the father of the bride had found her in the hotel lobby.  I returned to the church triumphantly with Uniqua in hand and felt kinda like Superdad.

Finally, it was showtime, and the kid did great.  She waited patiently in the wings and then marched right on out with the flowers with a big smile on her face.  The ringbearer, a little boy about a year younger than PG, did pretty good too!  A My Little Pony coloring book awaited PG at our seats, and that kept her busy for the rest of the ceremony.

Then it was time to party down, and party down we did.  PG was feelin' the boogie!

We lasted about three or four hours at the reception, and then we grabbed the trolley back to the hotel.  We would realize the next morning that we had been only about a block and a half from the hotel the whole time (the trolley ride was a bit zig-zagged on the one-way streets.)  The way our feet felt, it was probably just as well we took the trolley.

We crashed at the hotel, and that was the last anyone heard from us the rest of the night.  Other than the photo posts on Facebook, of course.  That kept me up pretty late, thanks to Picasa crashing during the upload and forcing me to do the whole thing over again.

Coming up... Rolling with the punches.

Journey Into The Deep South: Part 1

There's a Prologue, if you want some background about why we're in The Deep South.

Our journey began with a 3:02 alarm clock (I overshot 3:00 and didn't really feel like going all the way back around.) After a few meetings with my old friend the Snooze Button, I actually got up, and we were out the door by 4:00 or so. That was good enough to get me to the gate right as it was time to board (meeting M and PG there, as they took care of checking in while I parked. If you have the personnel to do that, I highly recommend doing it.)

Fun fact about BWI: Even at 5:00 in the morning, there are still a lot of people flying out. The line at security was long and well into the hallway, but moved delightfully fast. So, good job, BWI security, on running a much more well-oiled machine than I'm used to.

The flight to our connecting in Houston went A-OK. I was a bit worried that I would sleep through the inevitable sunrise at 35,000 feet, but I managed to wake up in time.

After arriving in Houston and getting some breakfast to go, we settled down in the far reaches of the airport where they keep the mini-jets that fly to small airports like the one in Baton Rouge. But we forgot utensils and straws, so I went back to get some and was not a witness to what happened next.

While I was on my utensil mission, PG ran around to blow off some steam that had been pent up during the first flight. Unfortunately, my daughter is a bit of a spaz, being a three year old, and all, and she had insisted on wearing her Tinkerbell sandals, which made her a little bit more of spaz. So she tripped on her own feet and face planted into the metal frame of the seats. I returned to the gate to find a screaming girl, with two cuts on the bridge of her nose, right between the eyes, along with a little bit of swelling. Otherwise, nothing broken and no apparent concussion. Just a sudden resemblance to a Bajoran (that's one of the many alien races in Star Trek that are basically humans with something extra around the nose, for those of you who aren't geeks.)

PG eventually calmed down, though she wasn't nuts about getting on another plane.  None of us could argue with the sentiment, but walking from Houston to Baton Rouge would take too long, so we got on the little jet and flew on.

As soon as we got to Baton Rouge, M and PG took off to the luncheon, leaving me and the husband of one of the bridesmaids to get the luggage. I couldn't remember if we had checked two or three pieces of luggage, but they only sent out two for me, so that answered that question. Until I noticed, while waiting for the hotel shuttle, that I had, in fact, three, not two, claim tickets. That's when I remembered that we had checked PG's car seat too. So I left my luggage with the other guy I had known for all of about 10 minutes and went back inside to see about getting the car seat. While waiting forever in line, my new friend came in to let me know that the shuttle had arrived, my bags were loaded into the van, and they had to get going. So I let them go.  It all worked out fine.  Once the Continental folks finally got around to helping me, they were able to get the car seat right away.  There were two Hiltons in the area, but both the other guy and I went to the same one, and I was able to retrieve the rest of my luggage, which, due to some protocol involving the use of luggage carts, ended up in the other guy's room.  Despite the shared experience, it would end up being the last time we spoke, despite seeing each other at both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding/reception.  Such are my social skills, I guess.

Despite not having slept much since 3 AM, I didn't nap right away, instead opting to get some lunch at the restaurant in the lobby.  It was the first time in my almost 40 years that I dined in a non-fast-food restaurant alone.  I found it kinda depressing when the hostess asked me if I wanted a table for one.

PG returned from the luncheon with a scratch on her cheek.  Nobody knows when or how it got there, but the best theory is that she managed to scratch her face with her fork while eating.  Because of the whole spaz thing.

I did eventually nap later that afternoon, causing me to have to miss the rehearsal.  I was told later that PG did great in rehearsal.

The rehearsal dinner was very nice, but it took forever for them to let us into the dining area, and then the five courses were, like, a half-hour apart.  PG got her dinner right away, scarfed down the mac and cheese, and then proceeded to fall asleep in her chair.  She continued to sleep on M's lap during appetizer and soup.  She was then relocated to a couch in the bar area, well within our line of sight, and spent the salad, main course, and dessert portions of the evening fast asleep there.  She also slept in M's arms during the entire walk back to the hotel.

And so ended our first, very long, day in Baton Rouge.

Next up:  The Wedding

A Zero Pain In The Ear

Aw geez. I meant to tell you all how PG's follow-up appointment at the ENT went, on the day that she actually went to see him. But I guess we'll just have to settle for an update four days late.

She's good now, but she does have to take a spray of Nasonex (bee not included) up both nostrils every night until winter is over. According to PG's ENT, winter ends in May, so it'll be another few months of nightly Nasonexing. On the plus side, PG does not mind having stuff sprayed up her nose, so at least it won't be a painful few months. In that regard, anyway.

A Minor Pain In The Ear, Then

Missed two days in a row. This is why it's not called PoEvDaMo.

Took PG to the ENT a week early, because she was acting really fussy, and so far that's been a harbinger of her ear infection getting worse. Twice in the past month, in fact.

But, to paraphrase Freud, sometimes a fussy girl is just a fussy girl. The good ear is still good, and the bad ear is about 90% cleared up. PG has her last doses of antibiotics tomorrow, and that, hopefully, will be that for a while. She's still going to her originally scheduled ENT appointment on Thursday to make sure that's true!

A Real Pain In The Ear

I see, from the post below yesterday's, that I haven't put anything up since mid-December, back when blizzards were something I could dodge. That would be the longest hiatus this blog has seen. So thanks for that, Facebook.

So, PrettyGirl has another persistent ear infection, one that may or may not be finally getting under control. This will probably be an annual January-March ritual, until the inevitable introduction of ear tubes. Can't wait.

Her doctor thought that the first round of antibiotics had done the job, but prescribed another 10 days of it to "mop up." A week later, PG was fingering her ear and running around with a hair-trigger temper again, so it was back to the doctor's office to find that one ear was A-OK and the other ear was "A Mess." Lots of swelling and a possible ruptured eardrum. Yee-haw! So, more powerful antibiotics for PG (Augmentin, I believe) and an appointment with an Ear Nose and Throat specialist on March 11.

PG loved the first antibiotics, so getting her to take them was easy as pie (and, I suppose, tasty as pie too.) The new stuff got less favorable reviews. At first taste, PG announced that it was "icky," and we had to hold her head still and do an end run around her clenched jaw by putting the dropper in her cheek to get her to take 'em. Unlike the yummy meds, this stuff has to be given twice a day. So we had good times after breakfast and dinner this past weekend.

Then we sent PG off to daycare with her meds on Monday, so she could take them after breakfast. She came home that night perfectly content to drink down however much we wanted to give her after dinner. Now she makes sure to tell us beforehand that "They're not icky." I don't know what they said to her Monday morning, but it seems to have worked like a charm. I am, however, a little concerned she's also saying that her teacher is "the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I've ever known in my life."

I joke, of course.