Madness and Joy

Sleep deprivation in combination with the over-active imagination of a three-year-old puts one in the frame of mind to write something like "Through the Looking Glass" or "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas". Who needs hallucinogenic drugs? Everything, literally everything, in our place is in constant danger of being imbued with a personality when Moorea turns her attention to it. Which leads to exchanges like this: Me: "Moorea, it's time to clean up your art stuff." M: "Dada, I can't clean up my art stuff because Mr. Handy says he won't do it." High-pitched voice of Moorea's right hand: "I don't WANT to pick up." M: "See Dada? I told you I can't pick up, Mr. Handy won't cooperate."

We collectively have only one ailment at the moment, a lingering ear infection in Tiegan's left ear. Which means that, as a group, we are as healthy as we have been for the past two months. It has been a circus of pestilence and infection. Colds, flus, bronchiolitis, pink eye (two rounds, everyone but Karen), sties, food poisoning, etc. We took Moorea to the emergency room on Tues (she's fine), and one of the doctors recognized me. Bad sign.

But the big stuff is in order: Tiegan is sitting up, saying Dadadada and Mamamama, and generally progressing well. Moorea can't get enough of her little brother, and cracks us up daily. Her latest: I asked her what she was doing when I walked in to see her spinning in the middle of the living room. She said "Orbiting!". Her preschool class is doing a space unit, and she is apparently REALLY into it.