Awake'ish...

Bit of a different kind of night around here last night. Our grandbebe is staying with us for a few days. (Cutie Patootie is the 3 yr old son of The Man's daughter.) Last evening we had dinner with his great-grandparents, who enjoy feeding him as much of anything and everything they can in each visit. He complained that his tummy hurt a few times, but he was running around performing for their guests, so it's sometimes hard to really gauge.  He went to bed and seemed normal enough when we got home.  Sure enough, at 1 a.m. I'm awakened by a phone call from my son (19 yr old) - which is just the right degree of nerve-rattling in itself - and he's telling me that Patootie is throwing up and he doesn't know what to do. He's calling me from his own bathroom, which is next door to our bedroom. Don't you love the communication capabilities we have now??

I robe-up and find my two big boys in the bathroom trying to help the little one clean up.  It was such a grossly adorable scene: Noah trying to get him out of icky pajamas, Alex trying to wash his face off, and Patootie crying and telling them to "stop it!"  It was just so heartwarming! Except for the vomit, of course.  The Man gets up, too, and we all set about removing the dirty bedding (I know that child's stomach is not big enough for all the grossness that came out!) from the futon (that will never recover, I'm afraid) and getting the little one back to bed. The big boys then dispersed with apparent relief.  Patootie seemed to still have a tummy ache going on, writhing and moaning every little while, so I sent The Man back to bed and stayed to keep watch.  Sure enough, an hour later, round 2; thankfully mostly-contained by the wastebasket the big boys had thoughtfully placed on the floor next to sleeping bebe.  Poor little soul!  It's been many years since I've sat with a sick little one, and it's still just as pitiful to see them go through it.  And I am still filled with wonder at the capacity in such little bodies!

While changing his clothes and cleaning his face, he suddenly stops crying and says, "I feel better. Can I just go to sleep now?"  And it was like a switch had been flipped. Down he went and right to sleep, with no more moaning or turning. The Man checked on us right after that event, and  I stayed with Patootie another hour before convincing myself that he seemed peaceful enough that I could go to bed.  Then I lay awake for what felt like forever, listening for any sounds from him and feeling a flashback to that guilt that we feel when there isn't any magic wand to wave over them to make them feel better.

Thankfully today is my day off.  I got up relatively early, worrying about checking on him, and thinking I might still make my massage appointment this morning. But I don't think I will.  Patootie is still sleeping peacefully, thank goodness (as is everyone else in the house), and I really hope he will feel better today.  This has been a reminder of how grateful I am that my child-rearing days are behind me!  I adore him, but I am, quite comfortably, way out of practice with the art of middle-of-the-night-nursing/laundry/vigil process!  I consider that to be one of the big perks of accomplishing 'the raising of the cubs'.

(I can also report that other than a few minutes of excitement and an extra trip outside, the dogs were able to quickly go back to sleep without any apparent signs of being traumatized; and the bratty cats couldn't be bothered to even take notice of the event.)

As I mindlessly check in on the virtual world while waiting for the coffee to work it's magic, I'm presented with a video of a news report on the Vatican's position of consideration of the possibility/probability of alien worlds and beings: http://youtu.be/0h5L7IEqBjc   I honestly do not know what my thoughts are on this at the moment.  I'm really open-minded to the possibility and wonder of a lot of things, but aliens have not really been in my radar.  (However, I will admit that I've always had the opinion that vomiting children are associated, in some way, with aliens.)  Anywho, it appears that this really is legitimately newsworthy, and linking with NASA and the government. Who knew?  I, for one, did not.  If feels a little wacky to me, so of course I now feel compelled to hunt around for more stories.  Or just have more coffee.  We'll see.

Hello Sunday...

Indulging in Sunday morning tradition of sharing coffee in bed with The Man and cuddling the fabulous Holly dog. Our Zen.

...and Good Night

 Today I was kissed by a Dachshund puppy, a now-adult Golden Retriever that I first met as a puppy, a kitty that was the white version of my black Zumi (oh, how I would love to have them both!), and a beautifully enthusiastic young German Shepherd girl. These moments are the best part of my job.

What is up with the change of meaning for the term "Flash Mob"?  It was the term used to describe the seemingly-spontaneous outbreaks of choreographed dancing by mobs of people in celebration of any number of things. Now the news is full of stories of "Flash Mobs" that are nothing more than violent looting attacks by larcenous dregs of society with entitlement issues. Who felt that it was a good idea to use the same term to label two radically different groups of people??? They couldn't come up with anything else...anything...to describe the recent looters?  Did they try out "Sorry POS Thugs" first? What about "Worthless Scum Movement"?   Come on, I'm sure there is a plethora of descriptors that would be better suited than simply hijacking the already publicly-recognized name for a group of people who devote THEIR free time to celebrating moments and sharing joy with dance.

I'm quite certain that my soul is from County Clare: http://t.co/UYXQBTA  The Cliffs of Moher, Bunratty Castle, the Poulnabrone Dolmen.  Cumha I ndiaidh an bhaile a bheith ort...

Tomorrow is Friday. A short work day. This is good. Tonight I wish to dream of Fall. And Ireland. And puppies. Goodnight, chickens.