Dec 19, 2006
Dec 16, 2006
Dec 12, 2006
Dec 11, 2006
Dec 4, 2006
Nov 30, 2006
Nov 29, 2006
Nov 12, 2006
Nov 1, 2006
Oct 31, 2006
Oct 30, 2006
Oct 15, 2006
Oct 12, 2006
Oct 10, 2006
Oct 4, 2006
Sep 26, 2006
Sep 25, 2006
Aug 23, 2006
Aug 15, 2006
Aug 14, 2006
The pox: Day 3
So we got referred to Children's Hospital today where we were told we should go to the ER and possibly check in with infectious diseases. That's right, "infectious diseases." The jackpot of random illness encounters. The very mention of it makes you want to run and put a face mask and rubber gloves on and travel with some advance team who clears a room before you enter because of possible contagion. I mean, look him. (click on the photo to enlarge the horror) If I walked up to you in the grocery story and asked you, "Can you hold him for a sec, I need both hands to lift this case of Sierra Nevada" would you hold him? Hell no. But instead, we go to Children's Hospital where phil was met with "why are you here?" Fucking look at him! is what I'm sure what phil meant to say. "Um, we're here to be stashed in a little room where people ignore us for roughly 3 hours and where we're forced to rummage through drawers and steal all the percoset the diaper bag can hold to pass the time." But before we were forced to turn to such drastic measures, the doctor showed up. She probed. She conferred with someone who diagnosed him with something that ended in "multiforme" which basically translated to "we don't know" but then closed the whole encounter with "but if his mouth and eyes start to blister, bring him back." I dunno, we likely would have gotten more out of the visit had we gone for the percoset.
Aug 13, 2006
Jul 19, 2006
Birthday conversation
"Do you think he knows what to do with it?"
"Hard to tell."
"He's seems disgusted at the thought of this ritual."
" ............... Wait. He just tasted it. I wonder if he likes it."
"Um, he's licking his palm."
Jul 18, 2006
Jul 15, 2006
It's official. He won't ever get into Harvard now.
Here it is on paper. The "incident report." Now there's a paper trail. And he will forever be known as a biter. Jackson the biter. I can see this haunting his preschool interviews now. "Oh he bites? Yikes." Then the big stamp of "REJECTION" goes onto whatever application there is. But is there punishment for "her"? She, who shall remain nameless, took his toy and he just leaned over and clamped down. Perhaps she provoked him. We don't get to know who she is because of some bullshit daycare rules. But when I went and picked him up, one of the twins who I can't tell apart had a big red mark on her arm, so I suspect it was her. I question her upbringing anyway. Her mom does have hair the color of pink highighter marker you use to mark up copy in a textbook. And, they are always covered in scratches that look like they've gotten into a fight with a cat. Who knows, maybe they have. Maybe pink haired freak is too busy dying her hair and not watching her kids. But that's a whole other story. Anyway, I apologized to Geneva and told her we would work on his conflict resolution skills. He hasn't bitten anyone since. But the damage has been done.
Jun 29, 2006
Jun 28, 2006
Jun 21, 2006
Jun 3, 2006
Jun 1, 2006
May 24, 2006
May 16, 2006
May 1, 2006
Apr 27, 2006
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