Tuesday, January 29, 2008


Just Catching Up

This has been a busy couple of weeks, so I'll just do a recap of various events.

About a week and a half ago I had Zoe for the day. My baby-mama Weezie's mother was in the hospital getting a new hip, and Zoe, as frequently happens, was ill. Normally when one of the kids is sick, Weezie's mother would look after them, but she was using that "I'm having surgery" excuse that day. So Brynn was dropped off at daycare, Grandma was dropped off at the hospital, and Zoe was dropped off with me while Weezie went to work.

After a bit of crying about mommy leaving, we managed to have a fairly fun day. Of course, being ill, she didn't want to eat anything. She just drank water. Once she was done crying for her mother when I put her down for a nap, she did manage to sleep for a couple of hours, allowing me a bit of time to relax. When Zoe woke up, she was finally ready to eat. Sort of. A few goldfish crackers and a slice of cheese, which for Zoe isn't really bad.

Weezie dropped Brynn off with us after work so she could visit her mother for a while, and The Squeeze and I had a fun time with the kids. I got dinner ready and we all sat down to eat. Of course, at this point Zoe really didn't want to eat. Brynn, on the other hand, was pounding it back. That's my girl! Zoe just wanted water, while her plate of boneless pork ribs, mac and cheese, and corn sat untouched. Weezie cooks these boneless ribs for the kids and they love them, so we picked some up to ensure they'd eat. She would sip her water and slide her sippy cup across the table toward The Squeeze aka "Poppy". At one point, The Squeeze tried to work out a deal with her. "Eat just one piece of meat for me and I'll give back your cup." So Zoe smiled at her Poppy, and put a piece of meat in her mouth. She chewed for a minute and turned toward me with a very sad look in her eyes.

"What's wrong baby? Does your throat hurt when you swallow?" I just figured that with her cold and all, that's why she wasn't eating much. I've been there. No sooner did she nod at me (clearly oblivious to what I meant) then she projectile vomited on the table, the floor, herself, and the chair pad beneath her. So much for that piece of pork. And that slice of cheese and goldfish crackers from the afternoon. I immediately stripped her off and carried her up to the tub for a good hosing down. The Squeeze, god bless him, cleaned up the aftermath in the kitchen.

This past weekend was a lot of fun. The Squeeze and I looked after the kids at Weezie's place in Hooterville while she brought her mother home from the hospital with the new hip installed. That night we went to a 40th birthday party for a friend of ours. There was a whole lot of Mexican style food, much of which was prepared by a saucy Venezuelan woman with a knack for double entendres. She even brought her penis pistol. Ya, it's better to forget I mentioned that. It appeared that she had a thing for Kenny, the birthday boy. Many of us were placing bets on what time they would be getting it on. The majority of the group squeezed into the hot tub on the deck while the rest of us sat inside watching the lunacy through the patio door, keeping an eye on the clock as our guessed time approached. Shortly after my guess of 10:00 pm passed, we headed for home.

Sunday morning, we went out for breakfast and made our way to a giftware and furniture show near Toronto to find a new sofa for our house. We stopped in at a major big box furniture place on our way there and saw a nice leather piece we liked, but we're not in a rush...we'll see. We stayed at the show for maybe an hour or so, finding nothing that we liked.

As we drove home, we decided to catch a matinee. We saw the musical bloodbath, Sweeney Todd. Ummm....wow. There was a whole lot of blood going on there. A light-hearted little romp, it ain't!

I spent the first part of my Monday morning in the dentist's chair getting my teeth cleaned and my gums stabbed. I got a clean bill of dental health. Surprising, considering that I'm really not as big of a flosser as I used to be. I just hate how I tend to shred the stuff and how it sometimes makes my gums bleed. "That means you should do it more," says The Squeeze. Ya, whatever. I must be doing something right. After the cleaning, I apologized to the hygienist for any popcorn residue she may have found from the movie the day before. She said there was no evidence of it at all. Ya, I rock.

I spent the rest of the day and much of the night cooking in the kitchen. I made a ever-growing pot of Curried Coconut Sweet Potato Soup. It was ever-growing because when I tasted the first batch of it, my head nearly blew off from the excess of ginger I put in. I pretty much doubled the recipe again without the ginger, figuring it would be ok. When The Squeeze tried it, his eyes widened at the heat of the ginger. Oh come on! So I made another gingerless batch to add to it yet again. I fiddled with seasonings and coconut milk and broth, and at 11:30 pm, I think I finally achieved success. Of course, now I have about 24 or 30 servings. I'll be putting individual servings in Ziplock bags and freezing them tonight. While I fiddled with the soup, I also made a huge batch of basmati rice and butter chicken for our lunches this week.

Tonight we're joining friends at a fund-raising event where many area restaurants are serving signature soups. The Squeeze suggested I set up a table, since I made enough.

He's a funny, funny guy.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


Mr. Mom's Week

The week went fairly well. As well as can be expected when a totally unprepared parent looks after an 18 month old girl with a will of her own. Last Monday was the handoff at daycare and I brought Brynn home. The Squeeze was away on business for the week, so that meant it was just the two of us. The most difficult time happened to be mealtimes. I don't know what it was, but every time she was in that high chair with dinner or breakfast in front of her there was grief. It wasn't a meal without sobbing, wailing, and much food in her hair. When I calmly stated, "no, no, that goes in your mouth, not in your hair", she lost her mind, and consequently, I lost mine.

On Tuesday morning I took her to daycare to keep her in her usual routine and told the workers that it appears she's got a bit of a cold. No biggie. It's a daycare. The place is swimming with illness, so they weren't terribly concerned. Every night at home I had a humidifier going in her room with that menthol stuff that hopefully clears the airways. While she slept, she would cough and then cry for about ten minutes until she fell asleep. This happened about every hour. Needless to say, I didn't get a lot of sleep those first few nights either.
A couple of days went by with no major problems, but Thursday the daycare called to see if I could pick Brynn up early. Her cold was really bothering her and she was insufferable unless she was constantly held. She had a bit of a fever, so I gave her some meds to reduce that. Friday morning I took her to see her doctor. They tested her for strep throat (Weezie had it the week before), but it was negative. Just a cold. They told me to keep giving her Advil over the weekend to keep the fever down and make her comfortable. When we got back home, we just cuddled for a while until The Squeeze got back home. WooHoo! Always good to have an extra set of hands and some moral support. The first thing I did was run out to get some more Advil and a few new books for Brynn. She loves books, but I was starting to lose my mind reading the same four books that she brought along with her. "The Wheels On The Bus" can only be read so many times before the lyrics turn to "The blade in my wrist goes slash, slash, slash. Slash, slash, slash. Slash, slash, slash."

We all spent the weekend together and had a good time. Brynn just loves The Squeeze, and the feeling is mutual. He's wrapped around her little finger. We visited the folks on Sunday and she was a bit cranky, but after about an hour or two she warmed up.

Monday was another daycare day. I was hoping to get in to see my chiropractor, because a week of lugging around 30 pounds gets to a guy. No luck. He wasn't working that afternoon. I had to wait until Tuesday. When I picked her up in the afternoon, I had her on the floor while I put her coat on, and a little girl around four years old came up to me and said, "Are you her grandpa?" Nice, kid. Real nice. "Though technically I am old enough to be her grandfather, I am actually her daddy."

Tuesday morning I was starting to feel a bit rough. I was stuffed up. After taking Brynn to daycare for the last time, I came home and gathered up her things and did some laundry. In the afternoon, I loaded up the car, stopped off at the chiropractor for a good crack, and headed to meet Weezie at the daycare for the handoff. We unloaded my car and loaded up her SUV, and we went in to get Brynn. We watched her play in the little play kitchen for a few minutes before she looked up and saw us. She looked up, smiled and toddled on over. Weezie and I figured Brynn would be so glad to see her after this week. Brynn made her way over, looked suspiciously at Weezie, and held her arms up to me. Well, I didn't see THAT coming! When Weezie took Brynn from my arms, she screamed bloody murder. It was as if she didn't recognize her. OK, she came back with a tan, but still! And it went on and on. She was only calm when I held her. "You must be loving this," she said. Ya, I just love to hear my daughter cry. NOT!

Weezie took Brynn to put her coat on, and she kept on screaming. When I was putting the carseat in Weezie's SUV and she held her, it was non-stop screaming. I had to take her and let Weezie finish with the car seat. I buckled her up in her seat, while she cried, knowing that she wasn't going with me. I closed the door and listened to her fading cries as Weezie drove off.

I came home to a very empty house. She's only been with me for a week, but the place sure didn't feel the same. When The Squeeze came home from work he said the same thing. We miss her so much. As much hard work, stress and pressure as it was, there was so much happiness. I miss having her sit on my lap as I read the same books to her over and over and over. I miss the way she "talks" to me. I miss that little laugh and that big grin. I miss hearing her say "Dada" and "Papa". And "ball" and "Pooh". I miss how as I read her book "Kiss Hello, Kiss Goodbye", she would go "mmmmmmmmmmmwaaaaaaaahhh" and kiss me. I miss how she hums the tune to "The Wheels On The Bus". Most of all, I miss picking her up from her crib in the morning and cuddling with her.

Weezie called last night to tell me that Brynn calmed down and when she saw Zoe, it was business as usual. On Friday, her mother has hip replacement surgery, and she wants me to take the girls for a few hours while she visits her after work. We can't wait.

Last night I was really feeling terrible. Everything aches. My nose won't stop running, I'm coughing and blowing my nose raw. I'm popping Advil and cough candies. When I went to bed last night I was shivering and just couldn't seem to get warm. It looks like Brynn left me a little something to remember her by until Friday. It's a small price to pay for a "Kiss Goodbye".


Friday, January 04, 2008


Havin' My Baby

It's that time of year when the cold hits and the lucky go someplace warm. Maybe it's just the people who aren't in debt that go away. Perhaps it's people who don't care about debt, but want to get away so badly they don't care about going further in debt. I know some of each.

Somewhere in that list is my baby-momma, Weezie. This year she's taking Zoe off to Cuba with her along with another friend and her daughter. That means that I get to look after my baby Brynn for a week. Hmm...she's 18 months old today. Can I still call her a baby? Hell, I'll be calling her my baby for the rest of my life. She'll put up with it.

I'm looking forward to having Brynn at our house and seeing her every day. Of course, the fear is there that she'll want her mother, and will be a sad little girl, which just breaks my heart. The part of this whole situation that I haven't yet mentioned is that The Squeeze is away at a conference for work that very same week. What are the odds?

To maintain some sense of normalcy in her routine, she'll continue to be in daycare for the week, which she just loves. I'm sure it beats being bored hanging out with me, and it's several hours less pressure per day for me too. If she'd be good with it, I'd be happy to just sit and hold her all day, but she'd put up with about five minutes of that.

The Squeeze gets back Friday night, so we'll all get to have fun together over the weekend. Before he leaves and Brynn arrives on Monday, we need to do some work around the house to toddler-proof it. We need to re-install the basement door that's been off since we moved in. We need to pack up the Christmas tree and decorations. I need to get some outlet plugs and make sure the construction zones are inaccessible. I have to pick up a non-slip bath mat too.

Luckily, the business partner has offered to work while I have Brynn. You just never know if the daycare is going to call, needing her to be picked up if she's sick or something. Working that week would require me to have to close the shop early each day in order for me to pick her up before the daycare closes anyway. It will all work out, I'm sure.

I'm pretty confident that I can handle a couple of hours in the morning and a couple of hours each night. I'll get Weezie to bring all of her toys with her.

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