I have 3 entries that I'm currently working on, and can't seem to finish any of them. I think it's because I'm thinking of them as "essays" on "issues." But someday soon I'll actually get them all worked up.
Meanwhile, I think I'll turn on commenting again on this site. My last template didn't allow me to use blogger comments and I was just too lazy to set up Haloscan. Plus, I've been having so much fun commenting on other sites for the first time these past couple of weeks. A long string of 0 comments is rather sad to look at, though, so we'll see if I have the stamina.
Speaking of sad...(but obviously not really sad, but just in a kind "huh. OK, then" kind of way.) I was contacted by the American Liver Foundation about a local news crew looking for a child who was a transplant recipient to use for some story they were working on, and they wanted to know if they (ALF) could give them (the news station) our phone number. Of course I said, "yes," (I try to be active in the local organ donor awareness events) and I also gave her the URL of this website. 15 minutes later, someone from the station looked at this site for 1 minute and 30 seconds. And I never heard from them. Hoo, boy! Am I really that scary? Actually, I would kind of like to think that I am a little scary, a little too on-the-edge of things for this small midwestern town, but who am I kidding? I even think twice (or three times) before pecking out any profanity, and I can't even bring on the strong stuff. Anyway, I hope the story did actually get run. I'm always shocked to hear how many people have serious misgivings about being organ donors.
Annika's health update: Last week her main immunosuppressant was doubled, and we had labs again this week, which showed that finally her liver enzymes dropped a bit, so I guess that more prograf was what she needed. However, increasing the prograf means increasing the side effects--so she has had a bit of diarrhea and the whole sleeping thing is still difficult for her. Sometimes it completely freaks me out to think about all the drugs we are pumping into her, with all their nasty side effects. Best not to think about it, I suppose. Or better only to think about all the great things these drugs do for her.
my kids are getting too smart for me, part 127
Annika hopes every night that I will forget to turn off the bath water and just let that tub fill on up to the top so she can dive and frolic like a proper dolphin. And every night when I reach out to turn the taps she pleads, "Just a little deeper!" and I let it run for 5 more seconds, just to give her that little bit of satisfaction at having postponed the inevitable for just a moment at least. Tonight she tried a new tack. As I was moving to shut off the water she told me, "You don't have to do that, mommy. This bath tub thing will shut off all by its self when the water is deep enough." She said this in the serious tone of a documentary narrator explaining the life cycle of amoeba, while nodding her head in agreement with herself. And, yes, she really said "bath tub thing." Still, she wasn't upset when I told her that we had disabled the automatic turn-off feature, and then stopped the water with the tub disappointingly only half full. Or half empty, might be her description.
And then there's Frankie, only 16 months and already working the system. The main problem between the girls lately is that Frankie's all-out idolatry of Annika has led her to believe that whatever toy is in Annika's hand must be the absolutely most fun toy, ever. This conviction, combined with her general grabbiness, has led to some noisy scenes. So I've instituted the beep rule: whoever has the toy that is wanted by both parties gets to play with it until I say "beeeeep!", indicating time to switch posession. Obviously not an original approach, and one that works better with an actual timer, but, hey, I don't have access to a timer when we're all piled into the shower together with the little ones playing with fascinating plastic crap at my feet. So this morning, both girls wanted the ketchup bottle (no, not an actual ketchup bottle), and I told Frankie she could have it when I beeped. And she looked satisfied at this answer, reached out her hand again, and with her most adorable baby smile, said, "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!"