Okay, is no one commenting on the last post because you don't want to have to tell me I look like I'm in my late '40s? Because, I mean, I am so sure.
Rainy Wednesday morning. Feeling like warmed-over hell from the past two late nights at the theater. Jarrah is home from school with fever and malaise, probably because she had her 5-year-old annual Well Child Exam yesterday. The irony does not escape me. Every time we go to that office she comes home sick. She plays in this carpeted pit with lots of consumptively coughing, mucus-covered cherubs, and like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, she is taken and becomes their pod.
Or maybe she's having a reaction to the vaccines. Which can totally happen. Even though I made the executive decision to split the shots into two visits. I was telling Paul and Mary "Now don't go calling me Jenny McCarthy" and Paul said "I will not call you Jenny McCarthy. But I will call you Cameron Diaz, circa The Mask" and I said "How about calling me Sally Field in Places In The Heart?" Paul and I get like that sometimes. Joking aside, Jarrah awoke after her 16-month shots covered head to toe in a vicious purple, bumpy rash, and since no one was ever able to diagnose it, I've been wary of multiple shot extravaganzas ever since.
Considering the nurse and I together were barely able to hold her down for half the shots, it's probably for the best we didn't do them all. That kid is strong. I'm talking, Olympic hopeful strong. She has a killer BMI. Here are her other stats:
Vision: 20/20 (Super-funny, because David and I are both 20/20, so it's like she shares our genes)
Hearing: Passed the test, but barely: the kid needs a full professional ear-wax removal whenever we have these exams. After it was all out, she said "My voice is loud in my head!"
Height: 89th percentile for her age (that is down a bit from last year.)
Weight: 74th percentile for her age (that is exactly the same as last year.)
Answers to my questions:
1. Those two tiny moles are normal. People start to get moles at some point.
2. That mark on her back that was once a scab is normal. People with darker skin have concentrated pigment.
3. There's nothing I can do for the eczema around her eyes except Aquaphor. Wait it out.
4. She doesn't have an underbite. Maybe her incipient six-year molars are bothering her.
5. At this age, there's nothing unusual about having 17 imaginary friends and arguing for hours with tiny rubber princesses.
6. Those storms of emotion ("You hurt my feelings when you said I don't like salad! Why can't I be a grown-up? Grown-ups make their own rules! WAAAHAAHAHH!") will pass by age eight or so.
Meanwhile, back at our place, we've been breathlessly checking the morning post each day for kindergarten news, and nothing yet. A bunch of people at school have heard already, so I can only assume all the kindergartens are currently in a bidding war for Jarrah and we'll just have to wait it out.
As for the theater world, I think I'm going to break my lengthy silence on the secret blog and write a long, juicy post over there today. Check it out! I wish I could tell you what it's called but I forget. Still, if you once had an invitation, it's still good, or leave me your e-mail if you want a new one.