So, long story short, Odessa started daycare last week: on Wednesday. On Thursday afternoon, Bryan picked her up from the daycare center, and she had a little fever. Today (Sunday), she still has a fever, and boogers and snot are coming out of her eyeballs and her nose and possibly one of her ears. She is listless and breathing fast. She has a rattling, pestilent little snare drum in her chest. I didn't know that being somebody's Mama would make me worry so much. Worry worry worry.
Well, it can't be helped. I guess I'll just take her to the doctor in the morning.
In other news, Bryan has left us for a wood paneled hut on the Coast. We've known it was going to happen for about a year, but it's still sad. He'll be gone for 3 months, but will come back on the weekends so I can sleep in on Saturday mornings and so he can take our child out for fancy espresso drinks.
Anyway, Say hello to Odessa's new Daddy!
Daddy Audrey has been living in Costa Rica for a year, and wanted to ease back into life in the EEUU by sleeping on a cot in the corner of our dining room and trying out different ways of convincing a one year old to eat a bowl of chili. And who am I to try to stop her? So far, she's doing a bang up job and Odessa has barely noticed the difference between Daddy #1 and Daddy #2. Well, at least I don't think she has.... That might change once the febrile fog has lifted.
And finally, I didn't tell you before, but I have decided to try to abstain from eating sweet treats for the 40 days of Lent. I haven't given up anything for Lent since I was a yunggin' but I was feeling in an abstemious mood this Ash Wednesday and though "Why not just see if I can't give up sugar for a little while?" And ya'll: it's So Difficult, as I have very few actual vices other than sloth and a serious refined sugar dependency. It's been a tough few weeks, because I actually use sweet treats as a crutch in trying times...which these past couple of weeks have been. So, in the Grand Anglican Tradition, I have given myself a reprieve from my suffering between sundown on Saturday and sundown on Sunday each week, wherein I can eat all the sweet treats I want. This afternoon I ate a half a box of Girl Scout cookies (Samoas, if you must know), and now I feel pretty much as terrible as Odessa.
Oh, sugar, why are you so tasty and so mean?