thanks for the flu juju

finally over the flu tonight.

2 nights ago i felt totally stoned, drugged out of my mind, could not figure out what was wrong with me until I barfed. Then I remembered that I held you all 6 times you puked saturday night, and I would have to have one incredible immune system to not get that bug after touching so much of your puke. yuck.

you were good with the flu. i was not good with the flu. you were happy with the flu. is that possible? i didn't even notice you had the flu, except for 2 hours of throwing up. i was laid up for 2 days. body ache- headache, cranky as hell. you were perfect.

you're not eating much anymore because of this flu. so what does dad do to cure you? buys you a big dinosaur cookie. we gave you ham and potato last night for dinner, you didn't want to eat it. so we got out the HUGE dinosaur cookie, and you chomped down half of that with no problems. the cookie was as long as your head and half as wide. you wanted to keep working on it but i took it away.

one of your favorite things is this big mural of pictures of you and us that we have printed out in our kitchen. it literally has 100 or more pictures on it. you point to each picture and say "baby" "baby" "baby". each on is a baby. which is true, there is a baby in each picture.. there is one of nona and papa and you know they are them, and say their names. really impressive is that there is one photo where you are drinking a baba. the baba is about half an inch long in the picture. and you point to it and say "baba". you must have superhero eyes. i don't know how you can see and recognize that! you also know ava in the pictures.

you are bilingual. or bi"understanding". you can speak some french now. you understand most french. when i was laid up in bed and dad was finding you dinner, he said "a table" which means- in casual, slang like terms "let's sit at the table to eat" and you said "a table" right after him. perfect accent and all. you know the word kiss, but you'll really only kiss me if i ask for "bisou pour mama".

i am re-reading what i just wrote and Freud would have a field day. look how i wrote "dad was finding you dinner"- that's so funny. he clearly wasn't cooking it- just finding something he could give you. that's so classic!

except that in the last week your dad has had a culinary break thru! he has been watching gordon Ramsay on BBC America and wants to be him. Gordon Ramsay won't be around when you grow up- so I will explain. He is a chef in England that is talented at cooking and swearing. Every other word he says is the F word. Literally, every other word. So- he gives you tips on cooking and swears and that make the program interesting to men. If that can get more men to cook, I think he should swear more. The night I got the flu tom made me steak with mushrooms and some kind of special potatoes. just my luck i couldn't bear to look at any food.

you're the oldest at daycare now, and luiza says you rule the roost.

on sunday dad drew a mustasche (babershop style with the curled edges), a goatee and sideburns on your face with a purple marker. you looked fantastic! truly unique. we did not wipe it off you, and you went to daycare like that the next day. when you arrived luiza said "ooooohhhhh". i don't think she was too impressed. oh well. when you came home she had wiped it all off. we are creative people, i don't think she "gets" us. ;)