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The day spiralled from “coping” to “ohmygods I’m officially dead of bad migraine” on the way home from picking up kitty litter yesterday afternoon, complete with a vertiginous incident coming up to a traffic light where I got the prickly sensation in my hands and feet that is my body’s warning signal for “you’re about to throw up, and probably a lot”. I rolled down the windows and turned the vents on for as much fresh air as possible, breathed deeply with great focus (the mantra being “cannot throw up in new car, cannot throw up in new car, especially not with small child aboard”) and we got home without disaster striking. Once home, however, that was it; I was toast. I did end up having to cancel my evening out because I couldn’t stand up without falling over (and pleaded for a rain check, preferable for next Tuesday) but despite doing the lying in bed in a darkened room with all sound shut out thing that usually helps migraines, I couldn’t fall asleep. So I took more pain-relief tablets and actually kept them down this time (not that they helped much) and kind of wandered around the house squinting and wincing at sudden sharp sounds. I tried to read but I couldn’t follow the style of Larklight, so I stared at my bookcases for fifteen minutes before I remembered that Cymry had mentioned rereading Killashandra a while ago, so I found my copy of Crystal Singer and reread two hundred pages before finally passing out.

The boy slept in till 7:10 this morning, thank the gods. I am experiencing the typical post-migraine-day ache absolutely everywhere, but I can deal.

Now to rewrite and polish the evaluation draft I accomplished on Monday (along with reading the entire MS, and yes I am very proud of this), upload it, and be one whole day early on that deadline! And I’m going to invoice on Friday, too. Ha. It would be nice to see some income for the work I’ve done for someone over the past six weeks.

Today So Far

Storytime at the library for small child (for the first and last time this season — we joined late, and though next week is the last session before September we have a doctor’s appointment already scheduled): Success.

Trip to the office supply store for postcards and stickers: Success.

Introducing small child to a half-dozen Smarties: Success. Except then he whined for more all the way home.

Lunch, bathroom, small child down for a nap: Success. Please, gods, let him sleep for a full two hours. Two and a half would be even more awesome. (ETA: So much for that; all I got was an hour and a quarter.)

BIRTHDAY INVITATIONS: SUCCESS. It deserves capital letters, okay? I designed them and printed them out correctly on the first go. I found enough properly-sized envelopes and addressed them after looking up the addresses I didn’t have. I even have enough stamps for the ones being mailed. As a result of all this, I am currently watching for the four motorcycles bearing harbingers of the apocalypse. (I wanted to carry on the style I’d established for the first two birthday invitations, but the MS Publisher CD has mysteriously vanished and therefore I cannot install the program. It’s fine; these are more than acceptable, mainly because I had the brainwave of printing them on blank postcards and using a picture of Totoros and soot sprites on them.)

Obliterating headache: Failure. Unfortunately, this one is really, really dragging me down. I do cheer up every time I think of having done the invites, but they can only take me so far.

Today’s Definition of ‘Bad Day’

Four hours of broken sleep.

A three-year-old who wakes up two hours early and won’t go back to bed.

A migraine into which not even multiples of extra-strength headache candy can make a dent. (Light and sound of any kind are not my friends at the moment, nor have they been since 5:15AM.)

An entire day ahead to get through.

I’m considering myself very, very lucky that I had a whirlwind of an awesome accomplishing-lots-of-work-things day yesterday and felt great about it, because I am useless today and foresee being useless tomorrow (once again, thanks so much, FMS, and let me state again that this is damned unfair). I have an evening out planned for tonight, and I hope to heaven I’m up for it. I suspect I won’t be.

At least there’s nothing dire in my mail this morning. (See me try to think positively!)

Random Liam Stuff

I’m feeling slightly apprehensive, because today is the first day the boy has gone to daycare in underpants. As of Friday morning we went off pull-ups. There were several accidents on Friday morning but only one Friday afternoon, two on Saturday, and only one on Sunday. He’s been lazy and depending on the pull-ups-just-in-case too much; now he can’t, and he’s realizing it. We’ve also dropped the ever-present sippy cup, which has helped the step to big-boy underwear. We offer him a drink regularly, and if he wants one otherwise he asks for one and he gets it in a real glass. I foresee accidents now and again for the next little while when he gets distracted, but accidents happen, and he helps clean them up. We still use a diaper at night, although it’s only a little damp in the morning; he sleeps very soundly, and I think having him feel secure during the day should be the first goal.

Late Friday afternoon we visited a preschool. We’ve been looking for one for a while, because Liam’s at the point in his development where he could really benefit from a structured class-like environment. Despite the several messages left with preschools and older daycares over the past three months, however, not one of them has called us back. HRH finally got a referral from his office mate to one on the south shore (we’re not sure why we didn’t think of looking near the college where he works, but it’s ideal) and we checked it out at an informal open house. From the moment we walked in the feeling was right. Liam evidently felt so too, because he seamlessly merged into the kids there while we toured and talked and got to know the educator. We love the layout, the program, and the philosophies demonstrated by the educators and assistants. The boy didn’t want to leave after our hour there, even though the other kids had left, which was also a good sign! The educator told us frankly that we were at the top of her list, because she wrenched her shoulder last season and would prefer to take an older child who doesn’t need to be carried; Liam fits right into the proper age range she’s looking for, and she shares the same good feeling about him and us. It’s nice when instinct and intuition support the otherwise observable facts.

So suddenly our little boy seems very grown up: real underwear, real cups, and school. “We’re going to see a school? A school for me?” he said with delight and excitement when we told him about the open house. That and the seamless merge into the environment and activities seem to support our ready-for-preschool theory.

And a final amusing anecdote to balance the grown-up-ness: Lately we’ve been listening to the Muppet albums in the car. The boy has now taken to mumbling “Ow, ow, ow, ow, owwwww” as he walks along. I first heard it the other day and said, “Liam, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He looked at me uncomprehendingly. Then I realised that we’d just been listening to Marvin Suggs and the amazing Muppaphone in the car, and the boy was echoing ‘Lady of Spain’ as he took each step, but without the actual note attached to the sound the Muppets make when they’re whacked.

What I Read This May

Night Work by Laurie R. King
Wizards At War by Diane Duane
Micah by Laurell K. Hamilton
Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine
With Child by Laurie R. King
Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks
Holy Fools by Joanne Harris
French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano
Broken Chords by Barbara Snow Gilbert
jPod by Douglas Coupland
Innocent Traitor by Alison Weir
Mozart’s Sister by Rita Charbonnier
Wildwood Dancing by Juliet Marillier
City of Ashes by Cassandra Claire
To Play the Fool by Laurie R King
Enchanted Inc by Shanna Swendson
The Bee’s Kiss by Barbara Cleverly
Because She Can by Bridie Clark
Austenland by Shannon Hale
Thursday Next: First Among Sequels by Jasper Fforde (reread)
Dancing With Werewolves by Carole Nelson Douglas

See Autumn join the local library! See her books-read lists grow exponentially!

Random observations:

Innocent Traitor by Alison Weir: Thank God, I finally finished this. I liked the story (I’ve always liked the Jane Grey nine days’ queen thing), but it was slow. I think I prefer Weir’s non-fiction; it moves faster.

Dancing With Werewolves by Carole Nelson Douglas: This was dull. I love Douglas’ Irene Adler series, and I enjoy paranormal/urban fantasy, so I logically thought that I’d enjoy this. Wow, was I ever wrong. It felt like it had been whipped off without much thought, and different magical talents/abilities kept being assigned to the protagonist one after another in a much too convenient way. I won’t be following the series.

Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks: Not what I wanted it to be; a bit too medical-condition-ish. I preferred Daniel Levitin’s This Is Your Brain On Music.

French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano: This book kind of bored me; it took me forever to get through it. It’s likely because I’m not the author’s target audience. I already do most of what she was pointing out should be done, so it was mostly useless for me. Still, it a had one or two good be-in-the-moment philosophical observations in it that came at a good time.

jPod by Douglas Coupland: How have I lived so long without Douglas Coupland? Maybe it’s my generation, or maybe it’s because I worked for three months in a room with a game-design team, or maybe it’s just my sense of humour, but I loved this book.

Now What?

Today has been busy. I dropped the boy off at daycare, drove through traffic to the West Island, got my hair trimmed, picked up groceries (managing to forget liquid laundry detergent, fabric softener, and iced tea yet again), drove home, checked news and such, sent out queries regarding final details for both projects, ate lunch, and finished/fixed/polished/proofread everything.

It’s one-thirty, and I have just uploaded/submitted all of my work to the various editors and co-ordinators. Yes, all of it. I appear to be done. Pending any further tweaks requested by the clients, that is.

So now that my work time is my own again, naturally my brain is rebelling at actually working on my own writing, which it has been thinking about longingly all week while I’ve been working on things for other people. It has specifically been tugging at me to work on the newest YA novel I outlined last month. Oh, wait; there’s that essay for the anthology I should finish up for Monday. And there’s the workshop outline I need to plan out as well as a bio to submit for the Hamilton festival this fall, also due Monday. Maybe I’ll work on those this afternoon.

Random Observation

In the station wagon, I used to have to put my cello’s scroll over the corner of the back seat to fit it in the back. In the new sedan, I can lie the thing flat on the floor. On a diagonal, of course. But it fits completely. You would think there’d be more room in a full-size station wagon, but no.

A 7/8 in the gig bag will be able to lie across the trunk from side to side, no angling necessary.

A hard case will have to go in on the diagonal again, but still: The cello fits in the trunk! This was something we were mildly concerned about, what with the diagonal and over-the-top-of-the-back-seat thing in the last car. I laughed a lot on Saturday morning when it slid in without needing half of the back seat flipped down.

So not only it is a smooth ride and awesomely easy to drive, it’s cello-friendly. I love this new car.