Lydia Log: Stereotypes

You know what they say about children re: sickness and that kind of thing - that they are festering little germ sponges, so to speak (I wish there was a more eloquent way to say this). Well whatever - it is totally true, or so my limited experience leads me to conclude. Lydia was in home care for barely two weeks before she contracted some nasty head face cold from another kid, which was then quickly and efficiently passed on to her Mom and Dad, and now all three of us are pitiful, coughing, mucous machines. This, coupled with yesterday's H1N1 shots and a marvelously-timed bout of teething, equals a household on the verge of chaos, perilously close to spiraling into a black hole of self-pity and sleepless rage.

Of course I'm exaggerating, but not by much. Both Terri and Lydia are home today to recuperate, whilst I must soldier on to work, being the responsible provider that I am.

In other, more positive news, Lydia is inching ever-closer to walking on her own. I know that I've been saying this for a while, but it is true. Her favourite game nowadays is to run around our main level, holding your finger for support, to scare her mother by jumping out from behind a corner. Mom is obliged to act scared as Lydia often starts giggling loudly about six to ten steps before her big reveal. Cute. The finger-holding only seems to provide the confidence for her to walk; I'm not sure how much actual support it offers...

Likewise, while Lydia is still not speaking actual words, she does seem to know what you're saying most of the time. Plus, she can actually comprehend and carry out small requests like "bring me the (toy) pig", "go hug the (toy) bear", "pass me the red book", and so on. She can also "brush your hair", which equates more or less to her clubbing you in the skull with the hard side of her toy brush, but we're close.

Yes, we are close...