I have the worst deathbed timing. My last major bout of food poisoning came when I was pregnant and our water had just been turned off for leak management (because buildings in Korea are built only with hindsight) while we maintained bathroom operations out of a huge bucket full of water. This time Dan was in Gwangju for a days long business trip. Each time the culprit has been chicken gimbap. Don't eat the chicken gimbap, you guys. Chicken is too scurrilous. You know that GS 25 isn't air conditioned half the day, and we've all pulled too many lukewarm sodas out of convenience store fridges. That chicken is just sitting there vacillating between its safe and unsafe meat temperatures, slowly turning into a poison that will level you to the ground while you have a crawling baby to corral. I couldn't even sit up for all of Friday, let alone the let alones.
But, look, I didn't die! I discovered how to trick a retching stomach out of recidivism (apparently you don't eat or drink for two hours after expelling your innards so as not to re-trigger the expelling of your innards). I found another use for diapers. I learned how good Joah mind me when the bathroom proves too far. And, at least for a day or two, I hyper-valued so many things about regular life, chief among them this babe, but also just walking to another room without feeling faint.
Speaking of this babe, he likes to play hide and seek with the curtains in the living room. Especially these curtains because of the stroller, boxes, luggage, and musical instruments stored behind them.
We were watching some Sesame Street video with characters who kept repeating the word "radio," and he started sounding out. He's such a smarty pants.
Swoopy baby profile.
Sitting by the fan, catching the wind.
And here's something, if your baby is a lunatic, as most babies are, and keeps waking up all night, huddled in a corner, clutching the footboard of his crib, maybe he doesn't know how to lay back down in order to put himself to sleep, and you should probably spend a night encouraging him to let go and lay down without physically re-positioning him yourself, and then everyone's lives (and sleep) will improve at least until the next thing happens that re-renders sleep insignificant to your infant son.