sounds familiar

Oh boy y’all.  Feels like an age has passed since my Sunday night entry.

Soon after we’d gotten Keaton down after her bout with a sour stomach, my tummy started signalling distress.  After a couple hours it was in absolute knots, and midway through the night I joined Keaton in bowing before the toilet.  The sickness came quick and strong and that Sunday night seemed to stretch on forever and ever between consoling Keaton through her vomiting and coping with my own.  I felt like I got zero sleep and that the sun would never rise.  Luckily, Sharaun seemed OK throughout the night.  Unluckily, that only lasted until mid-morning Monday.  With Keaton already acting a fair bit better, I was completely out of it due to lack of sleep and dehydration.  And before noon Sharaun started complaining about “knots” in her stomach.  Later in the day she’d round out the bug’s trifecta.  With Cohen only seven days away, I was especially concerned about keeping her comfortable and hydrated.  But, by Tuesday evening as I write, we’re all steadily on the mend.

When we bought this house the room that is now slowly being converted to Cohen’s nursery was a “den option.”  This means it’s a room, but instead of a wall has a set of French doors leading into the living room and the niche where a closet would be is just a niche.   We swooped in after another buyer’s deal had fallen through all those years ago, and they’d already made that interior choice – the room had been framed that way and there was no changing it.  We didn’t mind; in fact we liked the openness that the French doors allowed.  We’re even keeping those doors as we transition the space into Cohen’s room – figuring he won’t mind much.  We do, however, need that “niche” turned into a proper closet.  And after two months of calling Craigslist flakes to try and get someone to come do it for me, setting up missed appointment after missed appointment with prison-tatted “contractors,” I’ve decided I’m just going to do the dang thing myself.  Can’t be that hard: build a box out of 2x4s, hang that box, put drywall on the box, tape, texture, paint and hang a door.  Done.  Right?

So anyway I’m going to build a closet this weekend.  Unless, that is, I have a son instead.

Goodnight.

Today I worked late.

When I got home Sharaun and Keaton weren’t there, having gone to a birthday party for one of Keaton’s friends.  I was alone.  I knew I would be, she’d called me earlier in the day to let me know.  In fact, I’d had it all planned.

First, I’d work a little late since there was nothing to go home to.  Next I’d sit down and watch the rest of The Haunting in Connecticut, a movie we’d recorded earlier in the week and only got halfway through.  While watching the movie I’d eat cold leftovers from the local Mexican joint, right out of the styrofoam boxes.  After that I’d eat the last few spoonfuls of cookies ‘n’ cream ice cream, right out of the container.  It was actually a nice hour or so of downtime.

And, right after the movie ended I was sitting on the couch reaching for my laptop.  In the background the credits from …Haunting rolled, scored by some super-creepy atmospheric music.  The house being quiet otherwise, I will admit I was a little on-edge.  Suddenly the doorbell rang out loudly, ring-ring-ringring!!  I didn’t quite jump, but I was startled.  Even more so when I went to the peephole and saw no one there.  I opened the door and stepped outside, expecting maybe to find a package or advertisement hung on the handle – but there was nothing.  I ranged a bit farther down the walk, still nothing.  I poked ahead a little more, to where I could see the driveway.  Finally I see Sharaun chatting with our neighbors, Keaton and her friend running around playing.

Whew.  Not ghosts.

Goodnight.

Yesterday was Keaton’s dress rehearsal for the ballet recital.  Full costume, dress and makeup, on-stage in the big auditorium.

Dad cried.