Coughing & Cousins

We have returned from the Northland. What a hoilday! We almost had to rent a Uhaul to bring back all the stuff. Wow. Thanks everybody! And to think, Macy & Grandaddy are coming this weekend! Lord, help us.

We had such a Merry Christmas this year (other than my near nervous breakdown in the car on the way to The Northland because OUR VEHICLE KEPT GETTING SMALLER AND SMALLER and SMALLER AND THE FOG KEPT GETTING THICKER AND THE RAIN KEPT POUNDING HARDER AND THE BABY KEPT COUGHING LOUDER AND I seriously had to do some deep breathing). But we made it there and back and it was happy and that's all that matters.

There are two major developments in the life of The Goose. First, the bad news: he has another awful cough which is being attributed to a reactive airway. We are currently treating it with a nebulizer (scary electronic device which requires him to wear a mask which administers albuterol and invokes all manner of writhing and screaming). Additionally, he has fluid on his right ear and will be returning to the doctor on Saturday for a check to ensure antibiotics are not needed. Ugh. Mama does not like it when her Buddy Snickums Snickerdoodle Coochy Coodle is sick. In the above picture, he is mid-cough.

Today he had a chest x-ray just to ensure that there weren't any really scary abnormalities or pneumonia. This diagnostic imaging was done at our local and very prestigious children's hospital, a place I hope not to frequent. While there, I was bulldozed by the realization of our blessings. I watched in horror as tiny, bald cancer patients came skipping in for their treatments ... so mundanely ... and I just kept thinking how unfair it is that that has to be their normal. And I watched as listless babies were carried in by their horrified-looking parents. I simply can't let my heart and mind fathom what it must be like to have such a sick child. God bless them, every one.

In other, happier news, The Goose would like to send a shout-out to his only cousin:

That, folks, is Baby Cousin Cornelius's boy parts. And since the mummy and daddy are keeping the name a secret, then I intend to call him Cornelius until his birth (on or around May 19th). We are all in shock that Cornelius is a boy since heretofore he was widely and strongly believed to be a girl named Lashondra. Lashondra Povondra, that is. I was dreaming of fat baby girls, but so much for my intuition. Cornelius has boy parts and that's all there is to it. YAY! I am so excited that I almost feel like it's ME who's having a baby! Except, thank the good LORD in heaven that I'm not because whoa! One is enough for now. Today when the x-ray technician was putting on my apron, she casually asked if there was any chance I could be pregnant. She was a little taken aback when I shouted, "NO THANK GOODNESS!" But y'all ... I know y'all know this, but WOW. They are serious work. My friends tried to tell me that babies are crazy work, but I just imagined all the kisses and hugs and milestones ... not the coughs and fevers and tantrums. Our pediatrician has four kids, bless her heart, and she once told me that the first is the biggest shock, the second is not twice the work, but TEN TIMES more, and the third and fourth ... well, she says, just make sure you have plenty of spaghetti on hand. I love that although I hope to never realize it. Two is a good number in my opinion. That way we're not outnumbered.

But for now, The Goose is the one who's outnumbered and we like it that way. Happy New Year y'all!