We are like the house that keeps on getting sick. I now have a pretty wicked cold, although my eye infection is down to just some redness, Stella's still going strong with her snotty self, and Tim seems to be now getting sick. Yay. I'm still perplexed as to where we caught all this. We haven't really been around anybody. The only possible culprits are the church nursery last Sunday or maybe one of our friends launched a sneak attack during the Oscars, although that would be a long incubation period as Stella didn't show symptoms until Thursday. The other long shot is one of the Anton chicks that I saw Wednesday night, but that's a rather short incubation period. I guess it's also possible that we just picked it up from the germs one randomly encounters in public. We did run lots of errands last week.
In other news, Stella is no longer taking the bottle. Tim tried to give her one last night while I was at rehearsal and she refused. We didn't realize how long it'd been since we'd given her one, New Year's Eve. She'd been taking the bottle so easily for so long that we'd just gotten lax. And now we're screwed because SXSW is next week. So we've got to get her to take milk from something other than the boob because my parents will be taking care of her and she'll need to get her late night feeding from her MeMe or her Pappy. It's funny because as soon as she gets well I was planning on starting the weaning process. Ha, I misspelled weaning weening at first. Yes, the Weening process, where one plays lots of Ween for their child in an effort to mess them up as thoroughly as possible. I think I'll choose, "Smile on Mighty Jesus, Spinal Meningitis Got Me Down" first, because that's always an upbeat one for youngsters!
In happier news, Stella gives the best hugs now. She'll just climb into your lap and hug you so tight. It's wonderful. I don't understand people who prefer newborns to this. I mean, the girl can cuddle, crawl, laugh, make jokes (simple jokes, but jokes nonetheless), and say Mama and Dada, which just melts your heart. How can that be any match for an eating, pooping, peeing, crying machine that just lies there helplessly and looks kind of odd because they don't really have eyebrows and their skin is translucent? I loved her to pieces then, don't get me wrong, but I didn't know how much I could really like hanging out with my child until she developed a personality.
But watching Lucy try to get away from Stella, I think Lucy preferred thew newborn stage...