My brother has both TTP and chronic kidney disease, it turns out; the TTP can be cleared up relatively quickly (probably: some people do die of it0, but for the other he will need long-term dialysis and eventually a transplant.
Ruth wants to Skype some time this week, which is a relief—I don’t know how things are going to change, now that their lives are changing, and it’s nice to see that at least right now, they want more contact than the contract stipulates they provide us/Cricket.
I’m halfway through this pregnancy. Nuts, huh? I haven’t only been posting about it seldom—I haven’t been thinking about it nearly as much as I did the last times, maybe because chasing Joey doesn’t leave me a lot of time to just put a hand on my stomach and think. But things are going well, and a friend read the tarot and told me that it’s a girl, and while I don’t believe in that sort of thing, I’m just running with that assumption. No official word yet.
While I’ve been working on Cricket’s sweater, Joey has occasionally played with my ball of yarn like a kitten, getting tangled up and looking awfully pleased with himself. It’s nice to have him involved.
Joey had a rough patch of several days—probably some combination of him having brain changes and the rest of us being upset about my brother and the troubles up north—but came out the other side his sunny self.
Joey pointed at some yellow flowers, and I went through our usual routine (“Those are flowers: What can you tell me about them?”) and he said “Flowya bayeah (flowers banana).” That’s right! Yellow like a banana! I was amazed. A lot of new words, a lot of eating of fruit.
I’m reading books about homeschooling in a Montessori-ish way; since we’re not going to put Joey in preschool, I think I’ll try to do some of that kind of thing here together. I’m getting pretty interested, and it’s nice to have a long time to think about what exactly my goals are and how to implement them.
I can feel the Possum moving like crazy, every day. It’s amazing.
Joey is completely crazy about Annie’s Buttery Rich Crackers: we had one box, we are out, and he is desperate for more. He will point to a box of graham crackers/saltines/lasagna noodles and ask for a cracker, then look at whatever you give him in disgust, point again, and give you a chance to pull a good cracker out of that box. I hope we can find more of them when we go grocery shopping this week. . . .
My father was out of town for most of last week, getting into town late Sunday night. When he and Joey were reunited yesterday morning, Joey clung to his granddad and screamed with joy.
Joey’s been eating like crazy and growing—his pants are too short, and his face is changing. I keep thinking that I’ve taken an odd picture of him but really, it’s just that I’m not used to the new look of him yet.