I tend to get to Friday and say “gee, I didn’t get X, Y or Z done, but hey, I have all weekend and can plow through it.” Then I get to Monday and wonder what the hell happened. It’s like that, and all I can say is I maybe didn’t go backward, so that’s relief.
Henry and I went to grandma’s house for dinner and birthday cake for me and my mother, which was fun. He seems to like my older brother, of all people, though he was friendly, or at least not freaking out, in general.
My information conveyed Saturday about what he can eat, centered on absolutely no dairy yet, didn’t filter through to prevent the butternut squash from being mashed with butter before it hit the table. The mashing part being kind of bad too, as it renders it something he can’t pick up himself. That left him able to eat chicken. And the puffed rice I brought. In practice he ate a pile of the chicken, a little rice, a pea or two, and a bunch of the puffed rice. The chicken was cooked in rice with chicken broth, green pepper chunks, and whatever flavoring. At some point it had gotten a little margarine, which was the only concern. The peas had some kind of buttery sauce, apparently one of those frozen packages, which included pearl onions. He stole a couple of them and some of the rice from my plate, after which I gave him a bit more of the rice.
I hung out there quite a while, because he ended up sleeping like a log in the car seat, up on the dining room table. He’s slept a few minutes of the ride there, after staring at me like I was betraying him for making him sleepy. On the way home he didn’t sleep. In both cases, he seemed to enjoy the ride and change of scenery.
It doesn’t seem like food bothered him. However, he got rashy after his bath. It’s increasingly apparent he is either sensitive to Dove’s sensitive skin variant, or something in the tub bothers him through contact, which would be less of a surprise.
Speaking of the older brother, we had a funny conversation that almost got his head bitten off.
He was telling me I might have to take just any job to support the family, doing something I don’t like. He compared his guitar playing with my using computers. He could have spent all his time playing guitar for the past 20 years, but that wouldn’t have made money, which in his case comes from working on cars. So I’ve wasted all that time “playing” with computers, and may have to accept that now I will have to just do “something” for work.
This would be like telling him he’s been wasting his time “playing” with fixing cars for decades, and instead of finding work fixing cars, he ought to get a “real job” even if he hates it. Too funny.
I left it at “good thing my work and hobby are the same” and “what do you think I’ve been doing for a living since 1992.” Probably did a decent job on the “you’ve got to be kidding tone” and the silent “you dork” trailing clause.
Anyway, it’s insanely late already. I rousted the girls from bed before they were ready this morning, in hopes of resetting their clocks so we’re not fighting with them at 10 PM about actually Getting In Bed and Staying There. This seems to have resulted in a cranky Valerie. Oh wait, she’s unchanged. Never mind. Off to the races…