Spook, spook, spooook


I missed out on the local TV network showing of Troll 2. Luckily the Internet’s best-of compilations are more than adequate. Also luckily, Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine is showing on Saturday, although the only Halloweenish thing about that is the fact that Vincent Price is in it. I am still expecting to enjoy it.

We have four pumpkins to carve. I’ve been putting it off since once the pumpkins go outside, the deer tend to descend upon them, especially if any flesh/innards are exposed. They’ve devoured my lilies and the leaves of the sedum, and I suspect they are checking out the spindly amur maple. I plan to stick some chicken wire around it, but all my to-dos (ever increasing) have been left undone lately.


Baby E has two teeth coming in. Surprisingly, he’s only up once a night, chewing like a bandit and eating a lot of formula and baby foods, but not in pain. He’s also trying REALLY REALLY hard to roll from his back. He’s very jolly. We also went to the supermarket for the first time, just me and him in the Boba. I realize that yes, he’s 10 months old, and this is weird to wait so long. But I imagined shopping with a screaming baby, and the slow swivel of heads that would follow. There is something so creepy about the way people look at you when you’re holding a screaming inconsolable baby. It’s a mixture of


B) prey SHHHH KEEP THAT BABY QUIET THE LIONS WILL COME, and I suspect a little of


It’s disconcerting. But Baby E is so calm now, it was a wonderful trip. He’s a terrible influence, of course — he’s not yet grabbing at stuff or crying if he doesn’t get candy, but I did come home with three times the baby food we needed.

In Early Intervention news, our OT brought over a special chair for him, something he can sit in and play independently. It’s simply constructed of heavy wood. The base is a flat plank on the floor. The back juts straight up from that in two tall pieces forming a V that cups around the baby. The padded seat is attached to the lower part of this V back, and has a soft padded block that goes between the baby’s legs (keeping them apart) and against his tummy. The top of the back has pads for the baby’s head. So you stick the baby in the seat, and last, affix a heavy wooden tray to the front.

This is a giant description and I should probably just take a picture. Will do so for next time. Anyhoo, it’s a very basic chair, but it helps him so much. He can sit upright! He can play with things in front of him! He can work on strengthening his trunk muscles! Supposedly he can sit in it unattended for brief periods, but I’m a little wary of that — he tires and slumps pretty easily.   Still, just the idea that he can play independently is so unexpected, and such a joy.


Spooky Saturdays at Tiny Cat Pants are almost over, and I highly recommend the latest story she posted, The City Under Your Skin. When I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, when I underwent a barrage of needle pokes and invasive procedures and barium-drinking and medications after living what I’d failed to see as a charmed and healthy life, I had trouble not crying in the doctor’s office. (When asked, I couldn’t say why I was crying. I expect I looked like the definition of first world problems. Although my doctor definitely could’ve benefited from some sensitivity training.) What will I do now? Will I die? Nope. If there’s an apocalypse, will I die? Probably. I felt like a zombie being guided through the inexorable, necessary steps of diagnosis, and then the experimentation with meds to see which would control the disease. I wanted to mourn, to grieve my loss of health, but my focus had to be on GET STUFF DONE FIRST. The grieving had to be put off until later, until I could actually process what was happening.

Anyway, I think that’s one reason why I like this story so much. She captures this shock and the grief I felt at the sudden frailty of the body, the grief that comes with the loss of health. It also helps that she’s an excellent writer, and a delight to read. Go forth and do so!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s