Friday, November 12, 2010

The answer, my friend, is blowing

We're all sick, Eric the worst of us, Chloë the least; she doesn't seem to have any symptoms other than a stuffy nose and somewhat more short-temperedness than usual, and that last may just be normal tantrums due to her communication skills not keeping pace with her comprehension and desires.

But she's finding solace, as her mother does, in Kleenex. (Accept no substitute!) She spent a chunk of last night blowing her nose. She aims the Kleenex (or washcloth, or whatever she's got in her hand) at her nose, but doesn't necessarily cover it. That doesn't stop her from blowing. These are productive blows, too. She was quite pleased with herself, and I had to wash her hands several times. She screamed when I took the dirty Kleenexes away, then quieted when I handed her new ones, and continued to blow. She wasn't excited about me wiping up the leftovers from her nose and lip, but she allowed it. She seemed to like the application of Aquafor (petroleum-based lotion) to keep her skin from drying out, too. This morning she allowed me to apply a Kleenex to her face, and when I instructed her to blow, she did. If she's inherited my nose, this is a very, very good thing.

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