Snippets

You guys know about my aikido black belt, yes? And I've posted before about our top-of-the-line home security system, that wails minatorily when someone even approaches the house with bad intentions? I mention this because my husband is out of the country for the week, and I would hate to have to beat the stuffing out of any stalker types who happened to read this post.

Alex is away at Scout camp this week also, which means I am the only person in the house whose age is measured in double digits. I'm not used to that. It was bad timing to attempt to discontinue the Unisom I've been taking for nausea. I'm almost better, I thought to myself, so I'll probably be fine. OH MY GOODNESS, I was not fine. I think I'll keep right on taking the drugs.

On Friday I am defending my early research project. If I pass, all I'll have left to do for the PhD is my dissertation. (My department abolished comprehensive exams shortly before I entered the program, intending to replace them with something as yet unspecified, but the students in my cohort don't have to take exams or do the mystery new thing either: coursework, early research project, dissertation, we're done.) In order to pass, I should probably prepare for the defense. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten past drawing cracks on a picture of a highway for my opening slide (see above re: only adult in the house and still throwing up).

While things are quiet I should probably work, not blog, so I will leave you with a quick random scramble.

Pete already has the lawyerly tendency that drives me so crazy in his oldest brother. Friday night I said, "Guys. You have to stop running around the house." He replied, "Me not running around house, Mama. Me running across house."

Oh, silly me. Running across the house is A-OK. (She said sarcastically.)

One of the kids on my caseload has the largest tonsils I have ever seen, and I have been trying for months to get a more informed opinion about them. I need to see his velum, which doesn't seem to be doing its job properly, but it's hidden behind his tonsils. His pediatrician has not seemed to be concerned in the slightest about these tonsils that meet in the middle, but the mom finally wangled an ENT referral. The ENT took one look and said, "Oh, those have to come out." He scheduled surgery for a few days later. I could not help but wonder if the pediatrician would have been so laissez-faire with a child who had good insurance. (Here's a tonsil picture if you have only a vague idea where your tonsils really are -- they live in between the two arch-y things you see in the back of your mouth (more properly known as your anterior and posterior faucial pillars). They should not, just in case you wondered, meet in the middle.) But I'm hoping the surgery makes a difference for him.

A pair of mourning doves built a nest on our front porch, and the mama sat on that egg for weeks and weeks. I felt some sympathy for her because she starting setting her eggs right when I found out I was pregnant. I would watch her up there in the cold April wind and think queasily, "It's hard work to help a baby grow, isn't it?" I kept watching and watching, waiting for little baby peeps from the nest. But there were never any peeps. This weekend they gave up. I peeked inside the nest, after weeks of trying to stay away from that corner of the porch, and saw one perfect-looking egg. I should probably toss the nest, because rotting egg is not something I want that close to my house. There's something so sad about an abandoned nest, though.

All right, time to get to work. Wish me luck!