nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Love Sugar Angel Baby

It's a dismally overcast day here, feeling very cool despite being in the mid 40's.
I thought of something yesterday, after posting the last entry. We've seen plenty of the deer this Winter and very little of Mr. Groundhog. In fact, I can't remember the last time he came to visit. Unusual in the face of the fact he was a daily visitor since we moved into this house several years ago. I hope he's just hunkered down in some hole somewhere, with some furry honey or three.
Today is a day filled entirely with too much quiet and too many of my own thoughts. I'm at loose ends. Not to say that I don't have things I SHOULD be doing, just that the idea of doing them isn't one I savor. Knowing and doing are two completely separate entities.
Last night brought a bit of a scare. Gramps had a followup appointment with a doc for his wrist cyst (heh) and I'd been attempting to contact my aunt off and on for quite some time to determine whether taking him was my responsibility or if they'd made other arrangements. Upon being unable to make contact with her, I attempted to call my Gramps. The phone just rang and rang and rang. I didn't really start to worry until I'd been trying for over an hour and was still unable to get him on the phone. To digress a bit: my Gramps has a schedule that he's pretty strict with. He visits Grams in the mornings around ten-ish and without fail is home in the evenings unless he's out and about with one of my aunts. This was around 8 pm and I was beginning to have visions of my Gramps lying in his apartment injured or worse. It just was that unusual for him to not answer the phone. I called my cousin and made her aware of the situation, explained I was going to go check on him. She didn't want me going alone so we planned on me picking her up and we'd go together. By the time I'd gotten to her house, she'd gotten through to my aunt who told her he'd decided a later visit with Grams was in order and he was fine. SO. Worried and scared I was until I got to Cousin's and then I was fine. And I got to hold tiny little Kameryn (to be known in the future as Pnutty) and played with Katelyn (to be known from now on as Tater) and shook off the worry like snow from a dog's back.
Pnutty needed a bath. Badly. My cousin was horrid about keeping Tater clean as an infant, bathed her once every three to four days, sometimes longer, and seems to be following the same trend with Pnutty. And apparently that has caused a few problems with her situation. Pnutty had a cuff of some sort behind her ear from previous surgeries and needing access to veins or some such thing. At any rate, the docs didn't remove it, said it wouldn't bother her and eventually would take care of itself. Unfortunately, due to lack of bathing, etc (I'm thinking) it became infected and had to surgically be removed. The nurse said in all her 20 some years of experience with that scenario, it was only the second time she'd seen one become infected.
Babies have creases, especially around the neck, that need to be kept clean of typical baby-eruptions like milk and spittle. And they should smell like babies. So I gave her a bath while I was there, so I could leave with the gentle smell of Baby Magic in my scent-memories instead of sour milk.
Pnutty is growing in leaps and bounds. She's still so tiny but she's attentive and alert and reminds me of Ry when he was that age. He always looked as if he knew exactly what I was saying and was soaking it in like a sponge. I know now that he WAS and it was only a matter of time before he used it to his advantage!
She's very similar. She's also begun to "talk back", garbled little noises and squirms when I was talking to her. Adorable.
I really do need to get my ass in gear. The housework has begun to whisper to my subconscious.
Happy Second Monday of the week.
N. *** Addendum: Feb. 14th through the 20th is Random Acts of Kindness Week. Go to this link. Random acts of kindness are good. Just do it.

11:22 a.m. - 2005-02-08

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