Flaming Wreckage

Iz is loop-reading a great book about The Hindenburg. Good information to have for chats with her Uncle Chet--employee of Rummy and history/military fanatic--who arrives tomorrow for a week's stay. Plus it's always amusing to see the shock registering on the faces of people in coffee shops who look down dotingly to see what the tiny girl is reading, and then notice the picture of flaming disaster on the cover. I finally managed to deflect her onto Paul Bunyan instead, this afternoon.

Leelo has a horrible cold. This means that, while Mali is not that much of a night time waking menace, he certainly is. Poor boy. Plus his new anti-yeast regimen coupled with swallowing all that mucus means his nighttime shitstorms have resumed. Although he can't bring them to fruition like he used to due to his inability to take off his jammies.

Mali's bilirubin tested lower today than it had last week (excellent!). But Dr. G still wants to see her in two weeks to assess her condition. She is awake more and more during the day. Seymour keeps crowing about new incredible things she's capable of, almost every day. It is cute. You'd think there'd never been a baby born, before her debut.

I miss my friends. I am missing my life. While I am enjoying the snuggly newborn phase, it is becoming bittersweet. Because I can see how people handle this three-child thing, especially when the existing two are older--the Iz-Mali dyad is total cake.

The Leelo factor makes everything impossible, though--there are few safe places I can put the baby down when he's around, which means god knows how I'll get anything done once my mom leaves. And I am sick at heart about how reduced my time with Leelo is--especially when I'm stuck in the nursing chair and he gets in a stim cycle of pacing the living room with a stim object in each hand or while slurping on some forbidden choking hazard. At these times I am physically incapable of snapping him out of it, and he knows it--he totally ignores all verbal cajoling or even direct commands. Sigh.

Iz just told me that she is a big enough girl to watch Beetlejuice. Fine, I put it on. It's an edited-for-TV version, but still. We'll see. She's still completely freaked by even the mention of Large Marge.

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