Cold Spaghetti

Kate, as Troll Doll.
All gooped up with sunscreen, ready to go next door to the pool with fantabulous Tia Michelle. (As Mommy goes to Cafe Luna to read Harry Potter.)

In honor of the release of The Deathly Hallows, our neighborhood turned out a big Harry Potter party on Friday night. The kids went to bed at the regular time. Then at 9:15, I crept to Will’s contoured, sleeping body and quietly whispered: “Will, do you want to go to a Special Midnight Party?” He jerked away so quickly and with such excitement that his head almost smacked me square in the face. It made his sleeping position make a bit of sense: he sleeps so that, at any moment, he can leap up and be ready for action. No rest for this kid. So, Will was ready, with one request: could he be SUPERMAN for this Special Party. Well OF COURSE. Superman, is like, Harry Potter’s best friend.
Whole Foods had a HUGE table of food (all appropriately named things like puking pastilles and Bott’s every flavor beans) and offered several games including spell toss (you had to correctly recite a spell while tossing hoops into glittery buckets), snitch head bands (I thought these were really cute), and broom races. Kate was pretty chill. Will was… well, let’s say that his enthusiasm for midnight parties dulls after the 30 seconds of adrenaline wear off. One of his friends from school showed up, too (he was dressed as an Astronaut) and the pair went off, hand in hand, down the street, discussing their status as Superheros as they went.
Many stores participated. The pictures show Quidditch (Whole Foods), Weasley’s Wizard Weezers (Magic Box Toys), and Flourish and Blotts (Octavia Books). Other included Ollivander’s (local art store) and a “House Elf Cookie Station” (bakery where kids could decorate magically themed cookies). There was plenty of sugar available at every.
The bookstore handed out maps of the neighborhood (on cool parchment paper) for kids to stamp at each location. Prizes and games were everywhere. All of the stores employees (and family members, it seemed) were dressed as Hogwarts notables… and WELL dressed at that. There was no mistaking Moaning Myrtle, Snape, Umbridge (she was even walking around going “ahem ahem”), and more. When he found out that the back patio was closed up (there is a coy pond there and Will likes to go visit the fish), Will got a little rambunctious. Trelawney captured his attention for a short while, as she told a boy of about 8 that “very odd things would happen to his second cousin, or maybe a neighbor.”Here’s Will, my Superman, surveying the night. Although we only stayed out for an hour, the following day, Will was CRANKY. The kind of cranky that would make adults without children run to a doctor for sterilization. Paul made me swear that we would NEVER AGAIN, under ANY circumstances, think it would be a good idea to interrupt Will once he was asleep. NEVER. But it was fun while it lasted!
(The white above are people wearing the fun golden snitch head bands.)

… the last one.

I will never forget how we met in the first. A friend (working on a PhD in Children’s Lit in Wales) had suggested we read this new fun book (back then, there was just one). The recommendation was light and carefree, there was no hint of the darkness and depth that would come later. We remembered the suggestion, every once in awhile bringing it up and at least once looking for it at a local bookstore without success. It was at least a year later that Paul surprised me with a hardback of the U.S. version of the first, along with a second, bringing them bedside to me as I recovered from a nasty virus picked up from the shelter where I was working. It was early 1999. Scout had just entered our lives and as Paul read the first few chapters out loud (I was too weak to hold the book) slept, curled up tiny and warm on the pillow beside me. Thus began our love for the little wizard and our hidden desire to turn an under-stair cupboard into a bedroom for the kids.

Since then, we’ve thrilled at the anticipation of each new book. We talked about reading them to our kids before we ever had kids. We have both read and re-read each book, carefully removing and storing the jacket safely while a book is in use.

Although we attended the festivities last night (more on that later) we decided to pre-order the book online. It finally arrived around 4, as we were leaving for a birthday party. We got the kids home and in bed around 8, which is when I started reading. But I’m hesitant to read too much too quickly (and frankly, too tired). It’s finally here and it’s in my hands… and I found myself re-reading the quotations in the front of the book over and over again, for ten minutes, before turning that page to the first chapter. It seemed like a very important moment.

There is, however, a need to finish. And finish quickly. Paul (who is generally respectful of my decree of getting the book first, always) is threatening to tie me down and read the ending out-loud if I don’t turn it over in a timely manner. Always the gentleman, that one.

Here is Will, waiting with our luggage as Paul gets the car. This was taken after our trip back from Pennsylvania. Waiting seems to be the theme tonight. We are waiting. Waiting for our street and surrounding blocks to turn into Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade (Quidditch at Whole Foods, even!) Waiting for news from Gwen; it’s been about 5 hours since we last spoke. Waiting for tomorrow, when Book 7 arrives on our doorstep. We saw our mailman at the Pediatrician’s office today (he was there with his son, a few months younger than Kate) and should have asked him to stop by our street first!

Everything in her blood is NORMAL. No sign of infection. Nutritionally very sound. Everything fine, everything normal.

The diagnosis: Kate is a force of nature. She is too much for her own good. But, there is still concern over her low weight. We really want to catch her up, weight-wise.

Treatment: putting as many calories in her as we possibly can. Peanut butter, ice cream, yogurts, creams, and more. As much as she’ll eat, as often as she wants. Re-check monthly. Who could ask for a better prescription???

Kate saw Dr. Oates this morning. She weighed LESS than at her last appointment, coming in at 18 pounds, 6 ounces and 28 1/2 inches high. Despite a perfect physical exam and her obvious curiosity and energy (getting into everything she could in the office and even trying to open the door to explore the hall) — Dr. Oates had to admit that her weight on the growth chart has plateaued a bit too much for comfort. The doctor even took out Will’s old charts to compare them (Will also plateaued sharply at age 1.) but still agreed with our assessment: Kate’s is too much.

She sent us to Children’s hospital where they drew Kate’s blood. It took multiple attempts and two blood draws (her right arm and then her left hand). She did not cry for either stick. For the second draw, she didn’t cry a bit until the very end, when the needle started to move a bit in her hand. Yup, Kate is THAT TOUGH. For the record, tears were dripping off of my nose on to where I held her to me. I needed the sticker after it was all over.

We are still working on getting a urine sample and, should we be successful, will consider it an amazing feat in par with juggling 4 balls while unicycling on a tight rope. To catch urine, they give you two baggies with U-shaped foam stickers on the ends and a standard cup for collection. It’s your job to glue that U-shaped puff to your daughter’s vulva, hope it stays in place, and hope that when she does pee, it actually is caught in the bag… and doesn’t run out during a diaper change. She has yet to pee, despite my forcing drinks into her mouth until she swallowed and repeated trips to the bathroom where I put her hands in warm water. While the trick may work at slumber parties, it is not so effective with 1-year olds.

Now we are home. Waiting for blood test results and waiting for Kate (who is sound asleep, thoroughly exhausted) to pee in the bag. Wish us luck.

A typical daily diet for Kate looks like this:

All the water and sugar-free crystal light she can drink…, plus
B-fast: Peaches & Cream Oatmeal with Whole Milk; big handful of grapes; handful of Kix cereal
Snack: Full banana, Graham Cracker Sticks, Cheese Cubes
Lunch: Gerber Veggie Beef Dinner; Gerber Cubed Carrots
Snack: Gerber Apples and Cherries; Goldfish Crackers
Snack: Gerber Sweet Potatoes; Kix Cereal; Pear Juice
Dinner: Chicken Parmesan with Marinara, Mozzarella Cheese over Angel Hair; Steamed Peas
Snack: Full banana; two sips of very chocolately whole milk

These are all very generously portioned. And she cleans her plate. Plus, she is nursing before school, after school and at least once, usually twice, before bedtime. And nursing at least once during the night.

By my very conservative estimates, I think she is easily getting the approximately 1200 kcals she needs each day (the calculation is roughly 40 kcals per each inch of height… Kate is about 28 1/2 inches, I rounded up to 30). Actually, using the kcals I’ve estimated based on this diet, Kate is in excess of her caloric intake by up to a few hundred kcals per day.

But is she getting approximately 16g of protein? This is a very important question. Or maybe a better question, more to the point: is she getting ENOUGH protein to not have a protein deficiency in her diet?

I blogged earlier about my concerns over Kate. After speaking with the doctor on call and feeling ‘humored’ over exaggerated concerns for her health, (plus an incredibly busy few weeks), we didn’t pick up the urine bags and didn’t test her. It’s been bothering me, but I felt that since her next wellness exam was in the beginning of August that it was fine to wait. The doctor said I was really overly concerned and that she felt no reason to explore it further. Which made me take a step back and agree. After all, if something was REALLY wrong, one of her doctors would have noticed. Right? That question has been ringing in my ears. Am I missing something?

This morning, when I stopped in to say hello to Gladys, the baby room teacher, she told me that she had played with Kate yesterday and was very worried about her. Gladys said that Kate’s arms and legs were looking so puny and her skin seemed to just hang off of her — no real muscle. She was worried. Yes, I thought, I’ve noticed this, too, and haven’t liked it. Even more so, I’ve noticed her belly. Is it normal for a baby’s belly to be that round? Without signs of edema or other alarming things, I’ve been pushing these out of mind. But maybe the sight of kwashiorkor that comes to mind is too extreme… what would it look like in early stages, I wonder? But wait. If something was really, really, wrong (I keep telling myself) someone would have noticed. She’s been to the doctor twice in the past 2 months. Someone would have noticed!

Then, this afternoon, Gwen pulled me aside to voice the same concerns as Gladys. And she added a bit: Kate is not right. Yes, I thought, that is exactly it. Kate is not right. I know this. I’ve known this. She is not right. A child who eats as much as she does, who is always hungry, always eating… that child cannot look the way Kate looks. Kate easily eats three times what Will ate at this age and Will (although small) was definitely much larger than Kate.

I called Hales Pediatrics immediately when I got home. “Is this for a well-child or sick visit?” the receptionist asked. “I’m not sure,” I said. Dr. Oates will see us at 9:50 tomorrow.

In preparation for the appointment, I’ve written up two days of Kate’s diet and made notes about the last two months. Nothing in isolation seems unreasonable. Together, however, they worry me. I want Kate fully reviewed. Yes, she is making her milestones (and then some). She is eating — voraciously eating. But something is not right. I’m ashamed that I let the previous doctor embarrass me into backing down on my feeling a few weeks ago. This time it will not happen. I got the number for a back-up doctor that a friend recommended. Paul is coming with me. If Dr. Oates doesn’t see the need to explore Kate’s symptoms further, I am taking her for a second opinion, tomorrow if necessary.

I almost didn’t quite believe it when I heard it on NPR this morning. But a quick web search and, yes, it’s true. The New York Times obtained a copy of Deathly Hallows and has published a review of it — complete with plot points and spoilers.

(And no, I did not read it. Not even close.)

What a gross display of self-importance, duplicitous in its planning, insensitive in its delivery, and odious in its intent and meaning. There are several offenses. First, the acquisition of the book, which had to have come through somewhat secretive measures and probably included a generous payoff. This would be a forgivable offense if it had remained there; showing only the pretentiousness of the New York Times. Instead, a journalist read it and wrote a review. Again, they could have shown respect and held the review until the 21st. But, no, the Times showed no restraint and sent it to print days before the release. (I hope Scholastic finds a way to sue their asses.) The final repulsion is that the actual review itself contains plot points and spoilers. Ostentatiously proving to us all that THEY KNEW IT FIRST, before anyone else, because nothing is more important than their opinion of a new book. The actions show tremendous disrespect for a series that is so well-loved (most especially by children! Hello? CHILDREN!) and reads like an insolent triumph over the book publisher and the author.

It should not be too terribly difficult to discover the officials at the New York Times responsible for such assumptions of importance and vulgar indifference. They’ll be the ones wearing long sleeves in the summer’s heat, taking care that their right forearms aren’t exposed to show the Dark Marks burned upon them.

You may look at it and see a Constipated Cookie Monster, but NO. This is an example of Will’s (incredibly impressive) Smiley Faces.
My favorite part is how Will is now signing his name. Similar to his preferred method of wearing underwear, Will signs his name BACKWARDS. (Note, above and below.)

In the picture below, Will is holding up his fantastic picture for the camera. Unfortunately, he’s holding it up so that HE is looking at it, not the camera. That fabulous little creation in the lower right corner? That is an example of how Will draws sea turtles and flowers. Until yesterday’s rain, our front porch was covered in drawings of Will flowers.

New household theory:

The Atlantic has been blessedly quiet thus far this season due to the fact that Mother Nature has invested her efforts into the energies of our daughter, A Serious Force of Nature.
Another theory, one inspired by mint juleps (as I understand), is that the rainier our summer, the less hurricane activity. With that in mind, we welcome the wonderful RAIN RAIN and more RAIN we have had over the past week… bringing with it blessed cool temperatures in the mid 80s. Our house has actually been able to be below 83 degrees during the day, which is unheard of this time of year. It has been so nice! So, even though our pool time has been limited and the kids are stir crazy on school days… rain, STAY!