Brief Update

So, the Olympics are over. I can retire my "Olympics Dorkery" tag for another 4 years. My beloved water polo teams both finished with silver medals, which was less than expected for the women and far better than expected for the men.

What else is going on around here? Not much, after birthday weekend excitement, which saw as many immediate family as live within driving distance, plus the in-laws from Texas, congregate at our place for burgers and hot dogs on the grill and chocolate chip cookie cake. We all trekked down to a photography studio and had huge family pictures made, so that was good.

I'm still horribly snotty and am starting to believe that I will remain this way for the rest of my life. My nose still runs, and I still make that lovely snorting sound when I try to clear my nasal passages and, you know, breathe with them. It's all very attractive, I can assure you. And I'm terribly tired of it. Can I just get cleared up sinuses NOW, please?

We went over to Six Flags yesterday, and let me tell you, the days when it threatens rain are the best to go there. If we had wanted to ride any of the big coasters, yesterday would have been the day. However, we ended up going around three times on the Thomas the Tank Engine ride, and three times on the ride with the trucks, and three times on the ride with the tugboat that spins around. I'll let you guess whose idea those all were. Some rainy day when I'm not pregnant and we don't have Caetlin with us, then Bruce and I will go on those big rides together.

We were coming up the stairs to home yesterday afternoon, all happy after a successful and fun morning adventure, when tragedy struck. Caetlin was going up the side of the stairs that she doesn't normally go (she climbs the hill, rather than the stairs, I think because it's easier for her), and was struggling with the stuff in her hands, as it is a little steeper than the side she normally walks up. She sat down in some ground cover plants and was trying to rearrange the toys she was holding, when they came swarming out. It happened in slow motion for us: we saw the wasps, and began to connect that they were wasps, and all around her, and then she started screaming. Time sped back up again and Bruce grabbed her and shooed away the remaining wasps and took her, still screaming, into the house.

Of course we had no baking soda or children's Tylenol (that I could find). We washed the stings, one on her lower back and one on her left hand, and I ran to the drugstore and picked up those things, plus some Benadryl cream for if the stings start to itch. She was basically fine when I got home, and after her nap you could barely see where the stings had happened. She was back to her cheery usual self.

That and the rain put a kind of damper on the rest of the day, but all in all, it was still a good weekend.

And now, I actually have work to do, so I must be getting on with it.

U.S. Water Polo to the Semifinals!

Both men and women! How cool is that?

Two Years Ago Today

I watched the sun coming up outside the window of the labor and delivery room where I had spent a long and uncomfortable night trying to sleep, mostly watching Scrubs on DVD and waiting for something to happen. My body had not responded well to the induction hormones, and my labor wasn't progressing. Thanks to modern drugs, I wasn't in pain, but neither could I get out of bed or really turn over to be comfortable. Through that long night, the nurses tried to prepare me that if things continued this way, I would have to have a Cesarean section in the morning, and somehow, my body finally responded to that- around 5 a.m., it was clear that the baby was going to be born the usual way.

At that time, there was a flurry of activity, as nurses began preparing the room for the birth. I threw up, which was really the only time after the drugs that I was at all uncomfortable. Mostly I just watched the sky outside the window turning pearly grey, blue, pink, orange, finally to bright sunshine.

At 8:00 a.m., the announcement was made- it was time to push. Chatting with the nurses and the doctor between pushes (which were still far enough apart to chat between), I almost could not believe that things were moving so quickly. I didn't focus on it- just on the task at hand. At 8:45 a.m., August sun streaming in the east-facing window, the doctor said to push once more and out she popped, like a champagne cork. And we moved into the world as three, instead of two.

For the first couple of weeks, I spent every morning marking the time, comparing what I had been doing at 8:45 that day to what I am doing on this. Then it was every Thursday. Then monthly. Now I mostly don't think of that day at all, unless reminiscing with girlfriends. Or on August 17 itself.

Happy birthday, my darling girl.

A Few Things Here and There

A few notes while I am waiting for my awful nausea to pass this morning so I can continue my day. My father in law made breakfast this morning, which I'm sure was tasty as it normally is, but the smell of it is killing me. I'm chilling in my room with a glass of water and hope, while the rest of the fam has gone to the park (three guesses who made that decision).

So yes, I suppose the good news here is that I have recovered enough to smell things. Not exactly subtle things, but I can smell the sausage and pancakes and eggs and whatever else got cooked this morning (I'm sure the hungry among you are salivating over that list. The nauseated among you [me] are trying very hard to forget I wrote that list). I'm at the point where I cough a lot from post-nasal drip and can't hear anything, but I'm basically okay. Just in time for the busy weekend and for El Segundo to make his or her presence known again.

Anyway, enough about my icky stomach, which writing about is not making feel any better.

How about that 100M butterfly?? .01 of a second translates to about 3/4 of an inch. Wow! My husband tells me that the Chinese media is calling Phelps the American man-fish. I wish I had a link to that but I can't find one in approximately 10 seconds of googling. It may be apocryphal. But I love it anyway. It seems so fitting, somehow.

Caetlin turns the big 2 tomorrow, as I may have mentioned. Wish me luck that my husband's planned burgers and hot dogs on the grill go as he hopes (I've been a pretty firm holdout for pizza for everyone, so I've left it all up to him).

Caetlin pooped in the tub last night for the first time ever. Sorry if that grosses some of you out. It's not as gross to me as the smell of breakfast is right now, unfortunately. I will say that cleaning it was more difficult than I thought. Let's just say that it, um, didn't hold together well as I tried to get it out of the tub. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Finally, this blog turns 1 today! Happy anniversary to me! It's become quite a bit more Caetlin-focused than I would have expected, but isn't that always the way? The kids end up the center, no matter what. Even Segundo is making that happen, in utero. Here's to another year of pictures and anecdotes (she's going to loooove the one I just told about her when she grows up) and staying in touch with everyone we love.

Still Sick. Still An Olympics Nerd.

Okay, I sound terrible. I've had (very nice and caring) people with whom I am working across the table on a transaction comment today on how awful I sound (not that I went in to work today, but I did try to manage working at home a little). I feel better, a little. Not a lot. I've lost that molasses feeling of being unable to do anything but slug around in bed, but I still can't say I feel anything resembling good.

The only upside of being sick is being able to indulge my Olympics-love to my heart's content. I fell asleep about halfway through last night's prime time, and then woke up a couple hours later (that's how I'm sleeping lately; it's horrible and I do not recommend it) to finish watching. Imagine the curses I threw at myself for having failed to set any extra time on the TiVo! I set it to record the prime time re-broadcast so I could watch this morning, when I caught the final gymnastics rotation, medal ceremony and excruciating post-meet interviews- the one with Alicia Sacramone was particularly painful. And the interviewer basically followed the "Step 1: Insert knife. Step 2: Twist." interview form, asking her something along the lines of, "You sound like you're blaming yourself. Why is that?" She may as well have asked, "Tell us all why you think you suck. No, really. Don't hold back." Anyway, I was impressed with Ms. Sacramone's poise in keeping it together during the interviews, when she was so clearly ready to dissolve at any moment.

And yes, I realize that NBC made a liar out of me by showing men's beach volleyball in prime time last night. The point holds, though, that there have been quite a few more women's matches televised in prime time than men's. It was actually worse during the Athens games, which is when I first noticed it.

In other news- did anyone see the USA-Italy men's water polo match? Holy smokes, was that a good game! And the women's match against Italy was similarly good, if a little more disappointing in the outcome. That Casanova is a beast!

Anyway, so begins another evening of hacking, coughing, Phelps watching (that 4x200M relay was crazy!), etc. Wish me luck that maybe I can get some sleep tonight, since I don't think I can miss another day of work.

Haaack! Wheeze! Snorfle!

So...I'm sick. I'm sicker than I remember being anytime in the recent past. It's just a head cold...but it's oh-so-much more. I'm running a slight fever, I'm weak, my stomach is upset from the phlegm that runs down my throat. I'm a party and then some. I've essentially lain in bed all day today, and it seems beyond me to do much else.

It doesn't help that I didn't sleep really at all last night, not just because of the snot-filled condition of my nose, but because I just couldn't get comfortable. I tossed and turned, and tried to relax and laid still and closed my eyes...and was awake. And uncomfortable. I tried the living room sofa. The den sofa. Back to the bed again. And fell asleep somewhere around 5 a.m., after having already sent the email calling in sick to work. If I have another night like that tonight, I'll be staying home again tomorrow.

So I've spent the day in a clogged-sinus induced haze, wondering vaguely when I might have the energy to do the work I need to do, both the paying kind and around the house. And around the house is especially important, because, dun-dun-DUUNN, Caetlin turns the big 2 on Sunday. Which means in-laws coming to visit tomorrow, and my parents and sister coming on Sunday, and all of us shlepping over to a photography studio to have pictures made. Plus new toys and other gifts for Caetlin, plus something needs to be done to feed and water everyone, etc. Plus I have a baby shower that I am co-hosting on Saturday.

Plus Caetlin (the source of all this disease) is still sick, and her nanny has it too, though not as bad as me, and I'm horribly afraid Bruce is going to pick it up over the next days and then we'll really be screwed. Because this is only really the second day of my illness. Think about that, folks: the second day. Most of the time, it's the third or fourth day that really lays me low. I'm so scared to think what may be in store for me over the rest of the week.

And we have other stuff to do. Beyond the work that I mentioned, we're scheduled for an ultrasound of El Segundo on Thursday. I have been looking forward to this for literally weeks, and all I can think about now is whether I'll have the energy to deal with it. Caetlin still needs to be cared for, though her nanny has really hung in there better than we could ever have asked her to.

Some other random news from our House of Sicknesse and Grave Pestilence:
- I've become a huge fan of the neti pot. How did I not know this existed until recently?



As someone who has serious issues with all things sinus, this thing is the awesomest. I've been getting all kinds of gunk out of my nostrils, working them over every few hours. It's kind of not as cool when one sinus is so plugged that the water doesn't actually go anywhere, just hangs out in the nostril, but it helps nonetheless.

- I've been able to indulge my inner Olympics dork, TiVo-ing all the overnight and primetime coverage and dozing through it all day. I've gotten wayyy into water polo, which is seriously awesome. I've also been caught up in Michael Phelps and USA swimming, though it's tough not to be caught up in it with NBC basically moving in with Phelps and giving him evening foot massages and breakfast in bed each morning. Still, the 4X100 M relay was the most exciting swimming race I've ever seen. Can you imagine- five teams in that race were below world record time. Can you imagine swimming faster than the existing world record and not getting a medal? How crazy is that?

- One thing I haven't been too fond of is the love NBC commentators seem to be lavishing on the Chinese, especially in gymnastics. We all need to agree that the Chinese women are not 16 and move on. I actually agree with Bela Karolyi that the rule is stupid, but if you're going to have the rules, enforce them already! And those children are so clearly not 16- no breasts, no hips, no thighs, no maturity of face, lack of maturity of motion...compare one of the American gymnasts, who are certainly 16. It's not just about height or curves- I can sympathize with a short woman with a boyish figure. But looking at the Chinese gymnast who is 20- and looks it- only makes it more apparent that the Chinese are completely breaking the rules. And the commentators gave them a complete pass. Maybe they have to- they are broadcasting from a repressive, censorious regime, after all. But come on- couldn't we get a little skepticism? And really, the Chinese men are not the end all, be all of men's gymnastics. We get it- they're good. Moving on.

- Am I the only one who finds it amusing that women's beach volleyball is on in primetime, while men's beach volleyball is on at like 10:30 in the morning? I'm guessing the sport isn't exactly the only, uh, draw here. The guys wear basically basketball uniforms, while the women wear those itty-bitty bikinis. We ladies can't even get a little Top Gun volleyball scene action. I'm sure it's not dignified enough for the Olympics. Though to be fair, to get back to water polo for a second, there's enough of that sort of thing going around in water polo. Tivo is your friend, ladies!

Okay, enough Olympics dorkery. Wish me luck that I can kick this thing by the weekend, which would be faster than I ever have beat a cold before, as well as deprived of my normal crutches of Zycam (it works for me, I swear!) and Tylenol Cold medicine.

And, here she is in happier-and windier- times:


And looking like the big kid that she is- almost a whole 2 years old!