Since I decided to get all deep and introspective yesterday, the rest of my life fell pretty far behind.
Poor Laila was running around in a diaper and pajama top until about 3 p.m.
Since writing takes both thinking time and writing time and I have neither, something always has to give.
I don’t feel too terribly for little toots because she is so content living inside her own head, playing pretend with a cast of characters in her daydream-y world. Also, she hates cuddling. AKA, she is me.
The things that tend to not get done include the laundry, followed by the dishes, followed by all other domestic tasks. I do not covet domestic tasks. I wish the staff of Downton Abbey would show up to do my floors and hatch devious plots.
To make the lack of pants and attention up to Laila, we did some crafts today. Luckily, her standards are incredibly low, as seen here:
Eli is easy to keep happy since all he wants to do is stay in my hippy-essential Moby wrap, eat, sleep, poo and be cozy.
Tomorrow, we have our second appointment at the Cystic Fibrosis Clinic at Children’s in Oklahoma City.
I’m pretty sure it won’t be worse than our first one.
I heard buddy boy cough today.
He was just sitting in his swing and let one loose.
I’m not sure if he was just clearing his throat in the way babies occasionally sneeze, or if the thick, sticky mucus that characteristic of cystic fibrosis has started to gather in his lungs, and he will start coughing regularly now. It made me nervous.
Mark caught a cold and has been keeping his distance from both me and little boy. We wash our hands so much here our knuckles bleed. Mark’s cold also makes me nervous.
I’m also training wee Laila to cover her mouth the right way and to never cough or sneeze on Eli. She was playing with him in his swing today and actually did back up and turn her head when she sneezed. I was impressed! She is so careful with him and so sweet.
And now, to fold the dreaded laundry.