The Winds of Change

The Chicken Enchilada Grilled Stuffed Burrito at Taco Bell is OK. I knew it wouldn’t look like the commercials, but who’s really looking, anyway? I was starving, it was there, and it was pretty good – just enough sour cream to keep me happy.

I picked up Duckie yesterday during naptime. I hated having to disturb her. She didn’t actually wake up until we went outside, then got upset at being woken up (understandable – I feel the same way.) We went over to Dr. Hawk’s office to do the pre-op visit, during which Dr. Hawk displayed his amazing medical prowess by – get this – listening to her heart.

I asked him if he was going to run through the surgery process with me, at which point he looked not only blank, but also annoyed, and I said, “Oh, I guess I’ll talk to the folks at the hospital about that.” He nodded, and sent me out front to shell out a $260 advance payment.

We headed over to Day Surgery at Pardee. (It was maybe three blocks away – I should have just popped Duckie in the stroller and walked it.) We waited to check in, we waited to talk to a nurse for a pre-op interview, and we waited some more to talk to an anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist was by far the coolest. He talked about the sedation, the steps of the surgery, the gas they would be using to put Duckie to sleep, and admitted that he worried more about older people than about young, healthy kids. He said that the risks for problems with anesthesia showed up more when there is already a family history of it – and if there is a history, I don’t know about it. So if anybody on the Allen side reads this before Thursday morning and knows of a family history of problems with anesthesia, please call Husband or me immediately.

Duckie fell asleep on the way home, around 4 PM. (I had called Husband earlier and he said he would be home late – after 9 PM, that is.) And she stayed asleep for almost two hours. She would wake up a little, whine a little, then get cozy again in my lap and go back to sleep. I tried offering her water, goldfish crackers, etc. – no response. I think she was a little overstimulated by the hospital experience, plus she got all of ten minutes of nap time before I so rudely woke her up.

Eventually I had to wake her up enough to change her diaper, plunk her down in the high chair, and almost force her to eat. I think she was so tired and hungry that she didn’t even realize she was hungry – and she didn't figure it out until she had a plateful of pasta in front of her. Poor thing.

Later, while I was choking down some leftover cheese dip (great dinner, I know), she came up to me and said, “Mama!” I said, “Yes, baby?” And then smelled the unmistakable odor of a grandly beshitted diaper. For the first time, she realized she was dirty and wanted out of the diaper. Very cool. I put her on the changing table and was playing with her and talking to her while I changed her, as usual. I said, “Where’s Aeryn?” She pointed to her belly. I said, “Yes, that’s my good baby!” She said, “Baby!”

Clear as day, she said, “baby.” You could have knocked me over with a feather. I think my heart may have actually stopped for a second. Then I jumped up and down and kissed her little belly and laughed and said, “Did you say baby, baby?” And she said it again.

Although I know she’s been making a real effort at talking (and I’m making an effort at listening to the words hidden in the babble), I think I will hold this memory as her first real word. “Mama” usually means “Feed me”, “Hold me”, “Change my squishy diaper” or “I’m SO tired!” “Dada” usually means “What a cool toy!” or “Can we go outside?” But when she said “baby” she pointed to herself. She’s beginning to know who she is. Wow.

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Did I mention last week that there is some major restructuring happening at the plant? I had heard that my job was going to be affected but not to this degree. Apparently (after some bureaucratic/administrative requirements are fulfilled) I will be doing some supervisory work at the plant as well as communicating with salespeople, answering complaints, and making sure the clerical functions of the QC Lab are taken care of “in a timely manner.” “In a timely manner”? Who do they think they’re talking to – I’m the Queen of Procrastination! Nevertheless, maybe this will help me move past that – after all, I haven’t ever really been connected, work-wise, with anyone else at the plant. I haven’t ever been responsible for anyone else other than myself.

So I suppose I’d better stop blogging for now and get to work.