Knock, Knock

cat in a box
Andrew has developed a fascination with knock-knock jokes recently.  I'm not sure what prompted it.  I'm also not entirely sure he understands the point.

Andrew: Knock knock!
Me: Who's there?
Andrew: French fries!
Andrew: *laughs hysterically*

Then again, he surprised me yesterday by writing his own name and actually making it mostly legible.  Not tracing - actually writing, on his own, which was pretty cool.  He needed help with the "d" (he asked for it, I didn't offer) and the "e" had some identity issues, but it was definitely his name.  And then today, he drew two very lovely circles, stopping and starting on the same point.

Andrew: Knock knock!
Me: Who's there?
Andrew: French fries!
Me: French fries who?

Andrew: *laughs hysterically*
Me: I'm still not getting the joke here.

Today we went to a birthday party for a neighbor, and Andrew was the oldest kid by about two years.  It was at a local pumpkin patch, and after picking out a small pumpkin, each kid was allowed to paint it, or decorate it with stickers.  It was hysterical - not because of the kids, but because of the parents.  The kids dove right in, grabbed their paints, and were about to go to town when the parents - almost every one - would step in and say, "Oh, here, Bobby/Susan/Carter, let's make a kitty, let's use something other than blue, let's put a sticker here, let's make swirlies, let's put a line of dots..."  And so forth.  I actually saw one little boy looking glumly at his pumpkin while his mom was busy decorating it with glitter.

And then there was Andrew, who had decided to put down a lovely layer of yellow glitter paint followed by a thick squirt of red glitter paint that dripped down like sparkly blood, and after that, was happily covering the remaining pumpkin with every paint he could get his brush into.  That was about five hours ago, and his pumpkin is still wet.  I doubt it'll dry before morning.  Heck, it might not dry before Halloween.

(But it's the only pumpkin that actually looks like it was designed and decorated by someone under the age of 5.)

Andrew: Knock knock!
Me: Who's there?
Andrew: Cheeseburger!
Me: Cheeseburger who?

Andrew: French fries!
Andrew: *laughs hysterically*

His IEP meeting is Friday.  He's taking speech therapy twice a week now - insurance will pay for up to 90 sessions during the calendar year, so we have lots to burn - and I think it's paying off.  I mean, really paying off, his incomprehension of knock-knock jokes notwithstanding.  Right now the biggest stumbling block is that according to Andrew, the word "she" does not exist.  Everyone, regardless of actual gender, is "he".  I can't decide if this is misogynistic or the ultimate form of gender equality.  So I've taken to pointing out all the girls in the books he reads - which is surprsingly difficult, when his favorite books are Curious George and Thomas the Tank Engine and Dooby Dooby Moo, in which a majority of the characters are boys.  No wonder he doesn't talk about "she"; they really don't exist in his world.  Well, apart from Momma and his various teachers, and I'm pretty sure we don't count as female.

Me: Andrew, Knock knock!

Andrew: Who's there?
Me:  Boo!

Andrew: Ahhhh, it's a ghost!

Andrew wants to take his training wheels off his bike.  Well, sometimes he does.  Most of the time, he doesn't care.  I've taken them off twice when he's asked, and he's tried riding around a little bit without them, but it's tricky, because it's hard to hold onto the back of his bike when he's going, and keep up, because he goes so fast, and I'm just a bit too tall to hold on comfortably.  And I don't want to let go, because he tips so far that he's gonna fall over for sure.  I'm pretty sure there's a metaphor here; I'm also pretty sure I know what it means.

And so far, he just asks for me to put the wheels back on, because I think he'd rather go fast with the wheels, than slow with Momma hanging on the back of his bike.  And also, he's got this grand scheme to hook the wagon up to the back of his bike with a bungee cord, and at the moment this particular endeavor is much more interesting than trying to balance without the training wheels.  (Also, it involves the wagon.  And a bungee cord.  And all the mud in the wagon.  Priorities, you know.)

Actual joke told this morning:

Andrew: Knock knock!
Me: Who's there?
Andrew: Turkey!
Me: Turkey who?

Andrew: Eat me!

I laughed hysterically.  I'm not sure why, but it's the best joke he's told yet.


Oct. 15th, 2014

cat in a box
I started working on Andrew's Halloween costume this week - he's going to be the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz.  Not that he's seen the movie or knows the story - he saw a drawing in his High Five magazine of one of his favorite characters wearing a Tin Man costume, and promptly decided he needed to wear the same thing.  (Early form of cosplay, maybe?)

Anyway, he came with me to Joanne's last week to find a pattern, and got really excited when we found actual Wizard of Oz patterns in the book.  They're only up to size 4, but he's a six so that's not such a large jump in size that I can't manage it.  And he helped pick out the fabric - it's a shiny silver metallic thing that is going to look awesome but be horrific to sew.

But all he wants to know is where the heart and the hat are, so I think he's in it for the accessories.  (The Tin Man costume comes with the silver funnel hat - which will be a plastic funnel covered in tin foil and with a bit of elastic under the chin - and a heart with clock on it - remember, it's the ticking!  But Andrew has only ever seen pictures, so I'm thinking I can get away with a red foam craft heart, and we will draw a clock face on white paper and glue it on, and then put it on a red ribbon to put around his neck.  No ticking necessary.  Ta-da!)

Anyway, I do want it to be a good costume for him.  He decided he wanted to be Mater last year, but he wasn't so much a part of the process, at least not like he is this year, where he's watching me put the whole thing together.  (And I'm going to try to get him to help me with the heart and the hat just before the day, so he can say he helped and really own that costume.  I want him to have good memories of making the costume, you know?  Instead of the forgetable memory of buying it off the rack and being one of twenty Iron Mans or Supermans or whatever.)

(I am totally raising a little cosplayer, aren't I?)

I'm planning out the Halloween cookies again.  It'll be ginger molasses and oatmeal raisin like last year, but I'm not going to make the double peanut butters again because those are seriously labor-intensive, not to mention involve nuts.  I'm trying to come up with a good third cookie and I keep flaming out - someone suggested pumpkin chocolate chip, and those were fine, but too cakey.  Someone suggested double chocolate with candy corn instead of chocolate chips, but I made them the other day and the candy corn, while pretty, added nothing to the cookie and frankly I'd rather just eat the candy corn straight.  And I'd rather stay away from chocolate anyway, they're going to get enough chocolate as it is.

Suggestions, folks?  No nuts, not heavy on the chocolate, easy and quick are desireable.  Then again...I'm tempted to make the chocolate crinkles I made last week because those were flippin' awesome.  They're supposed to be a Christmas cookie, but my theory is that if you're going to claim a cookie is for Christmas only, that just means more of them for me if I make them in October.

Also, I've already had one parent ask (well, hint very strongly) if I was going to make the rum balls for the parents again.  (I made rum balls and handed them out to the parents going around with their kids.  It was fun.)  I think I will, if I have time.

But between cookies and costumes, October is shaping up to be busy.  Andrew's IEP meeting is next Friday, and Cleo has to go to the vet (which Andrew is very worried about).  Bill has pink eye, I'm supposed to be working on another Zumba dance, I'm going to do an interview for the TPP November broadcast (about cake!  It will be fun!) and I have no idea how to do the editing, and somewhere in here, I need to sit and plan out the Nano novel.  Which is really shooting myself in the foot, because November is Thanksgiving and Andrew's birthday and that's followed by Hanukkah and Christmas and I would like to know why no one has figured out human cloning yet because I could kind of use a second me.

(Then again: it is 8:15, and Andrew is still asleep, so yay.  Not like I've done much productive with it, but whatever.  I'll get 4-1/2 hours when he gets on the bus this afternoon, and I can sew together his costume and fold the laundry and do some brain-relaxing cross-stitch.  And maybe clean the bathrooms while I ponder Alpha/Omega/Beta political and societal dynamics.  As you do.)

Without getting into specifics....

Mr Morton
Does anyone have any advice on how to find a beta?  Preferably one who does not mind getting 58K worth of fic dumped in his/her inbox in one go?

Okay, fine, I'll get into some specifics hereCollapse )

(This is nothing against my current lineup of betas, who are all lovely and much loved.  It's just that they're all busy and occupied and do not need 58K of fic dumped in their inboxes at the moment, or they have already said they don't want to read this particular story type.  I don't even want to ask some of them, because I know they're busy with upcoming events and debuts and whatnot, and I don't want them to feel guilty about having lives of their own.)

I think I'm good now - thank you!  

Writing Plan for October and November

cat in a box
I think I'm going to do Nano this year - I hadn't planned on it, I've got too many WIPs and nothing new and large on the horizon.  Except I realized last night that technically, I'm done writing Part One of the Alphaverse, and I haven't started on Part Two, which is likely to be around 50K.  And Part One could very easily be read as a complete book, which means if we think of Part Two as Book Two, then it definitely counts as a new work for Nano.

The other option is to use Nano for Heart4, which I don't think will need 50K, but then, I didn't think the Medieval Omegaverse was going to be more than 6K, and look what happened there.

Anyway, if I save  Alphaverse Part 2 for November, that frees up the rest of October to do all the editing I've got, which is quite a lot.

1. Medieval Omegaverse, which is now sitting with three medievalish scholars who are going to tell me everything that is wrong with it.  Hopefully they'll get back to me within the next couple of weeks or so, and then I can fix it and shop it around to the Usual Suspects.  But I'm cautiously anticipating a whole lot of tweaking on this first review, because I know zilch about medieval history and my research method was...well, it was pretty much relying on Tumblr, so let's just go with the descriptor of "crap" and leave it there.

(I should also mention that my plan for the next stage of editing is to reread Doomsday Book, and use that as a guide, and this is also a crap plan, even if Connie Willis is awesome and I love that book, because it takes place a full century afteri mine does.  I am a terrible historian, I want you all to know that.)

2. Fiddle - which I'm happy to say has a new chapter, but it's not quite ready for posting.  This is for two reasons: the first being that the chapter is on the short side (less than 5K) and also there's a weird part in there and I'm running it by a beta to make sure it's not too weird.  But it's also going to launch us into what is essentially the next stage of the story, which is going to take us speedily to the dramatic climax at the end, which I haven't quite figured out yet.  I should probably work on that.

3. Alphaverse - I need to work a little on Part One before I really launch into Part Two - although I think a lot of what I need to do to Part One is going to be determined by what I discover writing in Part Two.  This is very circular.  This is how I write.  This is why I don't do outlines, they always end up being wrong.  I did have a general sort of outline for the Medieval Omegaverse, and it ended up being super wrong before I was halfway through.

4. Heart4 - All this really needs is a good, solid, think.  Think think think.  Anyway, I won't do more on it until I've done the think, so we'll see.

5. Beginnings: Poor, forgotten Mystrade of Beginnings.  I do really want to return to this, because it has a really awesome first chapter.  *sigh*  And Bill came up with a really good case for it, except I'm not entirely sure it won't get me in trouble.  (I need to run it by someone British first.  Yes, yes, Kizzia, I hear you sqeaking from over here.

6. Assorted little things: The Mycroft-and-Mary story.  The Omegaverse triad story.  The Adventures of John and Percy.  Argh.

7. And on top of this: I am apparently starting up a Writer's Group in our community club, and I have a list of people, some of whome I did not actually strong-arm to put their names on it.  (And does not include all the writers I keep hearing about, because I know of two people who have written books and did not put their names down.  Part of me is taking that as them thinking, "Eh, it's a bunch of spouses who are not serious", and maybe they're mostly right....but the rest of me has decided that we're probably better off without their intimidating presence and shall carry on just fine without them.  Once I figure out what we should be doing, anyway.  But this does mean I'm going to have to spend some time focusing on original stuff, because bringing fanfic to the table seem unfair, somehow, when fanfic generally assumes a famliarity with the world that they may not have.

(That said: EGT has me reading a limited amount of Inception fic.  I'm finding it enormously entertaining, even if my idea of Arthur and Eames really seriously does not match the actors who play them.  There's one fic I've read where I swear to God, Eames is Black.  No one ever says this, it is just my own headcanon, but it works perfectly in my head.

8. Oh, and I have to write Andrew's Dear Birthmother letter in the next month or so. And pick out my favorite pics of him from the last year.  That should be fun.



cat in a box
I finally got my birthday present yesterday - a refurbished 64-gig iPod touch, in pink.  (Because the cover to my phone is blue, and while it's larger, I don't want to get mixed up.  That said, I realized I need to get a cover of some sort for it, so I might not see the pink once I do.)

So, thoughts:

1. OMG. So. Much. Space.  I spent the last few days importing all the many CDs I like into iTunes so I could load it immediately (and I have a lot of them), and I didn't even fill up half of the iPod.  Good Lord.

2. I hardly listen to my CDs - but that's mostly because I hate our stereo.  And the only radio station we get is Bill's country music station, which is all right, but gets a bit...twangy after a while.  But now I'm listening to songs I haven't heard in years, and I'm loving it.

2a. On a related note...I own a lot of CDs that I don't remember buying, or why, or what the music on them sounds like.  This could be potentially extremely frightening.

3. So now I feel the urge to get more music, so I can listen to all the songs I love on the radio on my iPod instead, but....okay, so how do people buy music these days?  Because I have to admit, even with the immediacy and relative ease* of iTunes, the urge to buy a CD so that I actually own the song and can move it around wherever I like is very, very strong.

*Relative ease, because seriously, do I have to put my password in twenty times before you'll let me purchase something?  Apple made me choose a password so strong that it's a pain in the neck to enter properly.

4. PODCASTS ON MY IPOD.  Yay, because my phone can't take much more, it's filling up with photos.

Anyway, the plan is to keep nothing but music on the iPod, because frankly, I don't need it for anything else. (Well, music and podcasts and podfics.  You know.)  Which is why I find it odd that it has a messaging function on it (who on earth would I be able to message, anyway?).  And wi-fi, especially since I still have to hook it up to my computer to get any music I rip from CDs.

But mostly, this is my first big foray into iTunes.  I dealt with it a few times before, because it's an easy way to get certain movies and music, and then to put stuff on Andrew's iPad for travelling...but I've never actually owned an iPod of any type before.  (To answer the question that keeps popping up: the reason I bought an iPod instead of something else is because there is nothing else.  Seriously.  Apple has won the portable music player race - well, at least as far as the larger-capacity devices goes.  I did do research, and maybe I was just looking in the wrong places - but I couldn't really find anything that had the same amount of space for the same price, with as many good reviews.  And if I'm spending that kind of money, I want some good reviews behind it.)

Mostly, it's good.  I'm getting the hang of moving around in iTunes, and creating playlists and moving them around, and while it took me about ten minutes to figure out how to load music onto the iPod, I did manage to get it done.  The iPod is doing some weird things at the moment - like, when it's playing music, and it's standing up, it shows me the song and the album art.  Okay.  But when I turn it on its side, it keeps showing me the cover for Queen's Greatest Hits, no matter what song is actually playing.  I'm not sure why, because you'd think it would show the album cover for the song playing.


In other news, the pink birthday cake went over well and the birthday recipient liked it and took it home with them, so I no longer have to look at it.  Score.  But I think next time, I'll do a raspberry filling and a lemon frosting on the outside, because that lemon filling was way too squishy for a cake.



Sep. 29th, 2014

cat in a box
Andrew had a terrible day yesterday, and somehow that has bleeded over to me, though my day itself wasn't all that terrible.  I think it was made terrible by extension.  It was one of those days in which everything was going wrong - or at least it seemed like it - and no matter what, all he heard was "No."

Not the case, but I understand why he felt like it was; I've had days like that too.  And of course it was topped by being unable to find his copy of Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, which is the perfect book to read at the end of a very bad day, unless you've had a bad day and can't find it.


The Day in Not-Quite DetailCollapse )

But despite the fact that my day wasn't so horrible - I got a lot of cleanning and organizing done while Bill and Andrew were at their ill-fated bowling excursion, and the person who won the coconut rum cake I made for the cake walk yesterday ended up bringing me a big hunk of it to eat, which was extremely nice of her (it was really good, too) - I was feeling heartsick after Andrew went to sleep.  Partially the whole trampoline thing, which I'm not sure what to do about.  On one hand, it's their trampoline and their rules.  On the's such an abrupt shift from their usual acceptance that I wonder if something else wasn't going on, or if Andrew misinterpreted, which certainly does happen.  And what do I do, call their mother and say, "Your kids were being mean to my kid!"  Their mom is sweet enough....but she's kind of notorious for letting her pack of boys go largely unsupervised, so I'm not sure what exactly she'd do about it, assuming she was willing to do anything at all.

So at the moment, I'm trying to play it to Andrew as a life lesson (ugh, horrible life lessons at four years old) in Unfairness, with a side helping of Not Wanting What You Can't Have.  Yeah, it's unfair to be excluded.  Remember that when you're big.  If the club doesn't want you as a member, you don't want to join that club anyway (or however that saying goes).  I'm pretty sure all of those are going to pop up again for him, many times, over the course of his life, though, and that's probably what's hurting me the most, because I thought maybe he could be a little bit older before he had to learn them.

All the same, I'd kind of like to track down the bigger boys and slap them.  That's probably terrible, but there you are.

Sep. 27th, 2014

cat in a box
I woke up this morning, thought to myself, "Self, fuck it," and decided that I would sit down and write out the damn porn scene and not stop until it was done no matter how many times I had to handwave over clothing or how many times I had to stop and delete things and I wouldn't stop until it was finished, or at least bond-biting occurred.

And....about two thousand words later, it's done.  The sex, it has happened, and John and Sherlock are very medievally bonded now, and I'm going to fade to black thank-you-very-much, and we'll rejoin them in the morning.  I have no idea if the porn is any good or not - I suspect heavily on the "not", but that's a usual state of affairs for me.  At least it's done.

So I dropped Andrew off at Bird Camp yesterday, and the siren call of an estate sale was too much to ignore in favor of writing porn that did not want to be written, so off I went.  Part of the reason I wanted to go so badly was according to the write-up, the woman whose stuff was on sale was an avid baker, and had lots of cake decorating supplies, and I am a sucker for baking supplies.  And it was true - she had a lot of kitchen stuff, so much so that it spilled out into the garage so we could see it all.  It was a very ecclectic mix, though.  She apparently bought only what she needed for specific recipes, so there were a lot of mismatched pans and one-size-only of things, which was a bit disappointing, because I probably would have bought a lot of the cake pans if she'd had more than one of each size.  I did get a set of icing tips, though - about 25 of them, brand-spanking new, for $20, not the best price since they're usually at least $1 each but not terrible either, and still cheaper than if I bought them at the store. Lots of cast iron cookware, but all overpriced and not in great condition, and I don't have the time/knowledge to fix them up, assuming such a thing is possible.

(She did have a set of three mini loaf pans, and I'm kicking myself now for not getting them, but ah well.  She also had more of those fancy blue-and-white show plates than I've ever seen in my life, and just about every Hummel ever made.  And I just remembered - half the reason I wanted to go to this one was because there were pictures of WW2 US ration books, and I really wanted to look at them, but I guess I forgot while I was there, and didn't see them.  Damn.  I'm going to go with the assumption that they were either already sold or just in terrible condition or way too expensive, and let it go at that.)

It was a good sale, though.  I waited about fifteen minutes before they opened the doors, which was fun, because I was behind some folks who clearly do this all the time (I aspire to being them, one day), and they were having a grand old time comparing notes from last week's sales.  I feel like a lot of the stuff was pricier than I would see at sales in DC - I've only been to one other sale down here in the last year, and I thought the same thing, so I'm not sure if this is a product of the companies running them, or inflation, or just the area.

There are two other sales this weekend, both within half an hour's drive, but I doubt I'll get to them.  Which is okay, the pictures didn't look that compelling.  Next year, though, when Andrew's in full-day kindergarten, I can try driving to Richmond, where there seem to be oodles of sales every weekend, and they all look lovely.

(I took Andrew to estate sales when he fit in the Baby Bjorn; there is NO WAY I'm taking him now.  Maybe in another five years, when he's a bit more trustworthy not to break anything.  He can tell everyone he's a fourth-generation estate saler, they usually liked that line when he was wee!)
cat in a box
First and foremost, as I just had a worried call from my father-in-law: Andrew is fine.  He had a fever, it was gone by morning, he was jumping all over the place and so I packed him a lunch and sent him to school, and all was well.  We have no idea what caused the fever, but it was clearly short-lived.

Moving on.

Today has been an odd day.  Andrew has been in turns an absolute angel and the devil incarnate.  He woke up this morning wanting to sit and trace his name over and over, and completely huggy and happy and cheerful, and then progressed to sitting on his best friend’s face while the Mommies were on the other side of the gym doing Zumba.

I really have no idea.

But I can think of three truly awesome things that happened today, even if I don’t have a clue how to react to them:

1. I got to lead my first Zumba routine today. So a few weeks ago, the Zumba instructor introduced a new dance, this time to Imagine Dragon’s Top of the World, which I happen to love.  Except the dance was….not really dancey.  It was a lot of standing around and waiting to make the next move, none of which were really bouncy moves, and every time we did it, I would be in the middle of the room shaking my head and going, “No NO NO NO NO.”  So finally, about a week ago, I went up to her (I am way vocal about songs I like and do not like, I am totally THAT PERSON), and asked if she minded if I tried to choreograph something different.  To which she very graciously say, “Go for it.”

So I did.  And today, she let me present it to the class, and everyone liked it – or at least they were nice enough to not be me and say they didn’t like it, and so we’re going to do it again, and it is now MY SONG.  Which is cool…except now the Zumba instructor has given me homework, and I have to come up with a Zumba dance to the Jackson Five’s “I Want You Back,” because she saw Guardians of the Galaxy and it’s a good song.  There’s a weird salsa version online, and I’m going to see if I can’t backtrack that to the original Jackson Five version, because say what you will, Michael Jackson makes for excellent dancing music.

(We currently have Thriller in the rotation, because Halloween.)

2. Someone wants to pay me for baked goods. I like to bake, we all know this.  And I would rather not gain five thousand pounds (see above post re: Zumba), so I sent a majority of what I bake in with Bill to share with his co-workers.  Well, on particularly baking-heavy weeks, he filters the baked items out to other offices.  (I’m pretty sure there’s ulterior work-related motives in who gets them, but I don’t care as long as someone else is eating them.)

Anyway, there’s this one office that got cookies a few weeks ago, and Bill mentioned how I take requests.  (This is true; I love a challenge.)  So they asked for banana cake.  I made one, sent it in, and got a lovely thank-you note in return.  And also a request for pumpkin bread.

I made the pumpkin bread last night (there are pictures on Tumblr, it was way yummy warm with butter), and Bill took a loaf in this morning.  (In my defense, the recipe made two loaves, so I got some too.)

At noon, I got a phone call from one of the ladies in the office to thank me for the bread, which was apparently already gone.

And also another request, for more pumpkin bread, and also ginger molasses cookies.  (Those of you who were at Gridlock, those were the “Mrs Hudson cookies.”)  Except this time, she wants it for herself, and she wants them Monday, and she wants to pay me.

I….have no idea what to say to that.  I’ve always said that I’d make a terrible businesswoman because I don’t actually want you to pay for my stuff, I just want you to eat it.  And I’m finding that this is true – I really don’t want her to pay me for it, I’m just happy to make them.  But I also have the feeling that this might be a slippery slope, and if I don’t charge her something, I’m going to be her personal baker for the next two years, which I also don’t particularly want to do.

(Not to mention, I’m doing a lot of baking in the next week or so – I have to make the rum coconut cake for an event on Saturday, and I promised to make a cake for the community club next Thursday, and two of Bill’s coworkers have birthdays in the next few weeks and they have already put in requests for tiramisu and gelato.)

So…I kind of feel like I should charge at least something, but…I feel terrible doing it.  I’m not actually running a business, nor do I want to.  And I think there’s rules about living on government property and running your own business – but then, there’s people here who do it via those catalog-Tupperware-type parties, so it’s not this is new ground for anyone.

And then there’s the issue of how much I should charge, anyway.  What’s a loaf of pumpkin bread run at the grocery store, $3?  Maybe $6 at the farmer’s market?   And how many cookies would I have to provide? By the pound or by the dozen?  (One batch is usually around three dozen.)  So..another $5?  Or call it ten and be done with it?

(Or I had the thought to refuse payment on sheer principle and tell her to donate whatever she felt appropriate to the nearest food bank.  I am tempted…but that still doesn’t alleviate the fact that she might start taking advantage of my oven.)

So….tl:dr….awesome that someone actually wants to pay me for baked goods, because that is awesome, but…oh my lord, this is a can of worms I didn’t anticipate.

3. I figured out the Medieval Omegaverse porn issuesAnd I did it with the oldest trick in the book…well, second oldest, the oldest is probably a fade to black.  No, I just switched up POVs.  Previously, I was writing from John’s POV, and now it’s from Sherlock’s, and it’s much better.  Okay, I still haven’t gotten to the porn, and John is back to fully clothed again, but I wrote over 3,000 words today and they were the easiest words I’ve written all week, whereas the previous 2,000 were like drawing blood from a stone.

Anyway, Andrew has Bird Camp in the morning at the animal museum, so I will either hang at the Starbucks near the museum with my laptop and write porn, or I will check out the estate sales that are reported to be in that vicinity, because I do love me an estate sale, and I haven’t been to one in ages.  (And they’re best experienced without bouncy boys following you and wanting to touch things.)

Sep. 21st, 2014

cat in a box
So the good news is that Bill took Andrew out this afternoon, allowing me to take my laptop to my favorite coffeeshop and write.  And the coffeeshop's awesome vibes continued to be awesome, and I was able to power through the section of the Medieval Omegaverse fic that has been giving me trouble since Wednesday, and now it's on to the comparatively easy part, which is the porn.

(I say comparatively easy because I am not a natural writer of porn: I write several sentences at a time and then take a break, and then go back, and then take a break.  Sometimes I manage a whole paragraph at a time.  This is big; when I started, I could barely get a sentence in before I had to go and take a breather.  Writing porn is hard.  No pun intended.  I don't know if this is the case for other writers of porn, but it's definitely the case for me.)

The bad news is that Andrew has a fever of 101.5.  We're not entirely sure how that happened; when he got home with Bill, he saw his friends playing outside and was on his bike and off like a shot, with barely a "Goodbye, Daddy!" before he was already down the driveway.  I don't think Bill was even out of the car yet.  He proceeded to play until it was dark, at which point I saw him coming slowly back on his bike.  I figured he was (a) tired and (b) sad that it was time to come home.  To his credit, he put the bike away in the garage and came in, and refused dinner (not surprising) and asked for books and bedtime (also not surprising, it was 7.30 which is bedtime anyway, and according to Bill he hadn't napped in the car).

But he felt a bit warm, so I took his temp, because if anything, febrile seizures do tend to make one paranoid.  And sure enough....101.5 in both ears.  Which explains the listlessness, anyway.  It took a considerable amount of coaxing to get him to swallow the ibuprofen (Tylenol has never done squat for Andrew, but ibuprofen works like gangbusters), but we're reasonably sure that most of it got in and he's tucked up in bed and I'll check in temp again in a little while to make sure it's going down.

Of course, it means probably no school tomorrow afternoon (I think the general rule of thumb is a 24-hour grace period after a fever, though if he's bouncing off the ceiling at 10am I reserve the right to pretend tonight's fever did not occur).  I think it definitely means no trampoline tomorrow, either, which is majorly disappointing but probably just as well.  And if there's no school and no means no writing time for me, unless I can manage it in the morning, and I haven't been too successful with that as of late.

So we'll see.  In the meantime, I'm going to try not to worry too much.  It's not like he hasn't had fevers before (and bad ones, too), but this one seemed to come on suddenly, and I hate hate hate putting him to bed when he's feverish.  It just gives me the willies and dredges up all sorts of bad memories.  Plus with him refusing to swallow the medicine...ugh.  Poor baby.

Edited to add: 10pm, and temp's down to 98.8.  Better, though still a bit high for him.  (He's usually in the 97s.)  We'll see what morning brings.


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