I don't have time for a blog post so here are some pictures of stuff.

No one loves an anatomy text like Eleanor loves an anatomy text. 

It's corn season.

Where is Eleanor?

There she is. 

Outdoor pool for sunny day splashings. 

Indoor pool for rainy day splashings. 

This is her new face that she makes all the time, and which it has taken me ages to catch on film. It's her Enthusiastic Face and it absolutely slays me. 

Eyebrows up, everyone. 

Working on our life skills.

Here?

You mean here?

Did I get it?

I think this rag is broken.

Oh, here.

(We're trying not to think about how much we already miss these jokers.)

We have improvements.

She is much better today, and we went to the zoo. There were otters. 

And she sang herself a song about her shoes, all the way home. 

But there are still, like, four different things on her body that hurt, so we went to the store to get some more baby Advil and she carried it all the way home and wouldn't let anyone else touch it because it is her precious. 

And so all were well.

E has been playing doctor with boo and Darren for days. 

And then today we went to the real doctor and lo, she hath an ear infection to go with her teething and her cough and her raging diaper rash. 

But a bath cures all things, and I bought her this whale with perforations on the bottom. It's a success. 

And then she went to bed and boo and Darren went on a date and Joel was at work but I had book club, and we had tea. 

That's a bundt cake. 

And she roared and roared.

We went to Drumheller. There were dinosaurs. 

Eleanor did not trust them until we got inside, and the she was like:

But easily the highlight of her day was the greasy diner, with the train that circled around the ceiling, and where she got to eat a packet of peanut butter. 

The park can't even handle her right now.

My sister and her husband are visiting and Eleanor is out of her mind with delight. 

I am manufacturing some good times.

Whenever I get back from BC, I'm always equal parts stoked to have my own space and sad about all the SPACE I HAVE TO BE ALONE IN. Joel's been working afternoons/evenings/nights all week, which makes things WORSE because E goes to bed and I'm like, So...

So rather than mope around, I've been trying to do Fun Things With Eleanor. Turns out that you have to TEACH kids all kinds of stuff you'd never though you would.

Like how to play with playdough. I mean, OBVIOUSLY first she's all like, I eat it?

And I'm like, No eats. And she's like...I don't eat it?

And I'm like, No, you pinch bits off and roll them up and smoosh them back together. And she's like, This is pretty alright, I guess.

She got super into it eventually. And then the next day I filled a Rubbermaid with water because our deck is too small for a pool and we haven't got a yard. I threw in some measuring cups for funsies, and she was like, I drink it?

And I was like, No, and she was like, It's ok, I drink it.

And I was like, Look, you can pour it. And she was like, I'll be damned, I can!

And then she got really involved, and when it was time to clean up and come inside she kept going back to the deck window and going, Plash plash! Plash plash! So I had to empty out the Rubbermaid and bring it inside.

Because Joel's not home for dinner, we mostly have hardboiled eggs and then drink smoothies while we watch Beauty and the Beast.

I thought Eleanor'd be afraid of Beast, but she thinks he's the best joke. Beeeez! Rowr.

And then today we took a different route home from the store and found a new park. It has a playhouse.

And a riding squirrel.

And a slide.

And, most importantly, a swing.

We are having fun with our own two selves.

She's practicing for when I have grandbabies.

So we're walking to the store today and Eleanor has asked to hold her hoodie because it has butterflies on it, and when I look next she's got it wadded up and is hugging it and patting it like it's a baby.

We have angered some travel gods, I'm telling you.

Last time we went to BC, E threw up on our way to dinner with friends. The time before that, my dad came down with the stomach flu the day we arrived. The time before THAT was the time we all (me, my parents, my parents-in-law, my sister and her husband, my sister--in-law and HER husband) had the Yelling Vomits.

This time, we flew in on Saturday morning. E had the sniffles but she also had a seat to herself on the plane, and there was a tv show about puppies on.

Sunday she woke up HOLLERING and coughing and full of boooooogers. It took ages to pull her out of her weepies, which is unlike her. My sister and her husband were over, and my brother and his wife came over after. Eleanor fluctuated between delighted and inconsolable. There was a lot of this:

but also a lot of this:

Monday we went to the clinic because her fever was extremely high.

She seemed to perk up Monday evening

but by Tuesday morning, she was a wreck again.

By this point my mom was sick, and E was a two-person job. You couldn't offer her water at the wrong time without her weeping inconsolably on your neck for half an hour. Fortunately, her aunt and uncle came over Tuesday evening to take a shift, and we all got a bit of a break.

Wednesday morning, she broke out in hives.

So we went back to the clinic, and Eleanor ate Cheerios from between her toes

until we walked into the examining room, where she immediately fell asleep.

Her fever was down and her lungs were clear and her ears were fine, and there was nothing we could do about the hives except give her cold baths, which we did. Like, three times a day. The hives were brought on by heat, so she spent a lot of time in the nude. My sister and her husband came over Wednesday night, bringing Eleanor's puppy-cousin with them and keeping E from losing her damn mind.

Thursday was much the same. Dad and I tried to keep Eleanor comfortable and amused and only wipe her poor, sore nose as often as we had to, Mum emerged periodically from her lair to lie on the couch, all the aunts and uncles came over in the evening to take turns consoling Her Fragile Majesty.

All this time, Eleanor was barely eating, so we let her have whatever she wants.

Babies who don't eat, you terrify me. By Friday, she was perking up, and we were headed out to Chilliwack. We headed to the lake with her cuzzie, and the sun seemed to ease her weary bones.

And then knock them out.

Saturday she was better enough that I felt ok letting her out of my sight, so I went garage sale-ing with my sisters-in-law while Eleanor drank half a pool.

Sunday we woke up before 5 am to fly back home. Eleanor napped 5 hours total that day.

Our whole trip revolved around seeing people with new babies. We had to cancel everything. There was no way I was going to give this amount of sick to a new baby, PLUS Eleanor was so much work I didn't think I could leave the house with her. My best friend had a new baby, and I didn't get to see them, and now she's moving to New York. It seems absolutely unreal that we've been sick every time we've been home. My sister says that we're not allowed to leave the house for a week before our next visit so that there will be less nose-blowing and weeping and hanging over the toilet, and more of this: