I’m writing while Doolies is bathing Tiger. I usually bathe Tiger but I’m still feeling sickly. That’s actually only part of the reason. The other part is that I made the mistake of asking Tiger who she prefers to bathe her, and without any hesitation she answered mommy (she is a decisive one, my child). I pushed her on why, and she gave two answers: first, mommy does a better job at covering her eyes when she rinses her hair. This is true as I’m trying to build character, and water in the eyes is one way to achieve that. And, second, she mentioned something about cold but didn’t elaborate. She might be referring to my perennially cold hands, but that seems doubtful as my hands are usually warmed up by the bath water. It could be my cold heart or personality. Both seem very viable.
So I’m sitting here with Dinosaur in the computer room waiting for Tiger to finish bathing. Dinosaur is going in and out of sleep. He’s been congested again last night and today. We’re going to bathe him when Tiger goes to sleep, and hopefully the warm water will open up his nostrils. He’s due for his doctor’s appointment on Monday, and we’ll see if there’s anything they recommend besides waiting out his cold.
I’m back after a long break. I took Dinosaur upstairs to watch Tiger bathe, and learned what she meant by not being cold in the bath. Doolies adds warm water during the bath and continues to pour water on her when she stands up to play with her Elmo and Cookie Monster sponges. I guess those are improvements I should implement to improve my parenting skills (not that it’s a competition or anything).
My throat is better when I eat and drink, and is awful in the morning after the phlegm spends the night digging holes in the base of my throat. I just finished a large glass of apple juice to help me through the evening.
People returned to work today and the world began to look more normal. Except for the cold. The grass was covered by frost as the temperature dipped below freezing last night for the first time this winter. The dog’s water bowl was frozen over, and I had to crack it open before refilling. I forgot how sharp ice looks when cracked.
She sat huddled in the anteroom. It was cold in the house. It’s always cold in her house.
Yeah, I didn’t think that would go anywhere either. I don’t know how people create stories out of nothing. Every time I managed to put words together there was always a hook in my life where I started. Without that beginning I wander aimlessly. It could be as simple as a scene from real life (photos and movies do nothing for me creatively—my best guess is that I receive additional information when I actually live within the scene that is lost in the translation to photographs or videos.
This feels like a long thirty minutes today, again.
He checked and there was not a monster in the room. He wished she still believed in monsters. The closet door was open and he wasn’t sure how she could sleep like that. Didn’t she know that’s where they lived? There she was, happily oblivious to all such fears of the unreality, sleeping away mere yards from an open closet. She must have had a metal-encased stomach to sleep like that.
I’m in the process of uploading more photographs for week number five. Doolies thinks we’re falling behind. We don’t want to give Dinosaur a complex like I possibly have. (My mother has an entire book of photographs from my older sister’s first year, and had only a handful of photos of me during my first year. Talk about scarring your child! Although, to be fair, I didn’t realize this until I started scanning old photographs and went looking for my first year book. I guess this just shows that it’s still possible to scar your even as they approach the barrel toward their mid-life crisis.)
I’ve also managed to squeeze in some programming along with my parenting duties, 30-minute writing sessions, and work. I have not managed to squeeze in any doodling, though. I guess you really can’t have it all. You’ll have to suffice with these words for now.
Speaking of words, Dinosaur is now sleeping, Doolies is finished with the dishes, and I’m finished with my words. Which leaves only one thing left: anime watching time.