I'm feeling pretty schizoid again today. Actually, I've been here since my brother came to visit on Saturday; Eric remarked that I was acting manic, and I couldn't disagree with him. I'm just going to free-write for a bit and see where things go.

My little boy wants to be a nudist. The other day, he insisted on remaining diaperless after splashing in the bathtub, and I caught some shots of him playing. It was a rare treat for him, but now he wants to do it all the time. A bit ago, he began tugging at his sweater miserably until I took it off - and then he promptly started on his overall buckles. It's only forty-some degrees outside, so I'm somewhat resistant to letting him completely disrobe. Luckily, it doesn't seem to be a huge priority for him, as he's letting me redirect him.

Oh, Cory's visit. It was lots of fun! Sam seemed to really get a kick out of the extra testosterone energy in the atmosphere. We went out to the mall, where we borrowed a car-shaped stroller for Sam to ride. Cory and Eric kept Sam popping wheelies and driving in doughnuts; when I disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, they organized a new game of pushing Sam down ramps and letting him careen across the floor at breakneck speeds between the two of them. Naturally, Sam was in heaven, though a few of the spectators were shooting daggers with their eyes. "How dare they be so careless with a baby?" Eric gets the same looks in public when he and Sam play "Airplane Baby," one of their favorite games.

Cory starts his new job today in Michigan. I'm so psyched to have him living so close! He's only about an hour away from us now, which is closer than we've been since the early 90's, when I went to college.

We went to Packo's with him when he was here. It was Sam's first time, and I was curious to see how he's react to fried pickles (he really likes dill pickle spears ordinarily). He ended up being far more partial to the French fries and ignored everything else.

In fact, he's become a French fry addict. If there are fries on the dinner table at any time, it's difficult to get him to taste anything else. On Sunday, when we went out for breakfast, Eric started to order Sam some potatoes, but I quickly changed his order to oatmeal with fruit. In the end, though, Sam saw home fries on Eric's plate and refused more than a few bites of the oatmeal. He was willing to play in it, though. Messy? Oh, yes. Thank God he used a spoon, at least.

Yesterday afternoon, Sam woke up from his nap and got hysterically upset. His diaper was soaking wet, so I though that was the issue, but as I changed him, he became continually more and more upset. Eric came and talked to him while I finished, but he kept crying. I saw his nose was running horribly, so, thinking he couldn't breathe, I got the bulb syringe and "snarfed" him; it helped his nose, but made him turn purple and start gasping with indignation. He wouldn't nurse, he wouldn't open his eyes. I finally took him outside, and he stopped fussing for the most part as he watched cars go by. He continued to sniff and snort, though. I gave him some cold medicine and he cheered up considerably.

If he gets my illness of the past week, things are going to be awful around here. If he gets the sinus infection Eric had the week before, things will be even worse. Luckily, he seems mostly okay today, though his nose is a little crusty and he occasionally sniffs.

For my part, I'm mostly better, but the cough is lingering. Can I just say that the Halls with the gel medicine center are surpassing foul? Yuck.

I had another one of those wonderfully sexy dreams of being pursued by a handsome stranger last night. In all of the dreams like that, I sincerely want to escape, but I know it's hopeless; he's too far in love with me to let me go. The corner of my brain that's observing from afar finds that situation deliciously titillating.

I wonder why I enjoy dreams like that so much? It's not a situation I've ever experienced, even in a limited fashion. I've never been chased (and certainly not to the point where, as in my dream, I tried to change my name and flee the country). Maybe a part of me wishes that someone would feel that kind of undying need for me that would make them chase me, grab me, hold me, and break down all my defenses to make me want them in return. My life is pretty tame, as it always has been. It's been ages since I've even had anyone flirt with me. Sex is planned around naptimes; it's good physically, mind, but mentally...I don't wish to criticize, especially when I'm not sure exactly what I'd change. Perhaps it's that I don't want to have to say it. That's not in keeping with the fantasy. One doesn't flee while shouting, "Okay, now you chase me!"

I feel silly having brought up the subject.

My fifth wedding anniversary is on Saturday. Eric and I have decided to make presents for each other. He was resistant to the idea until I reminded him that he could do something on the computer, or do a special handyman task, or make something in the kitchen. It doesn't have to be a craft, you know. I'm really curious to see what he'll do. I'm still thinking about what I'll do for him, too.

Sam really does need a haircut. Over the past couple of days I've been forced to admit it. It's in his eyes, and he's rubbing them frequently and pulling at his hair where it covers his ears. I'd do it myself, but I'm hopeless with scissors. I can barely cut paper in a straight line. I suggested to Cory that he could do it, but he's only good at super-short cuts. I'm sure that I'm not ready for Sam to have a buzz-cut. Not my baby!

I feel like my brain is slowing down now and becoming more calm. Sorry for the complete core dump. Maybe that was what I needed, though; all the wild thoughts are out and written, so I can relax and feel some peace. It's a nice change.

Now I'm hungry.