RSV, ear infections and other loveliness

There is a pox on my house.

Saturday we discovered Clair has an ear infection and RSV. She's on antibiotics for the ear infection. She's sleeping poorly.

Yesterday, on one of the most exciting days in recent history, I spent the day at the doctor with Cary and at my own doctor. Cary, it turns out, also has RSV (but his ears are clear, thank God). And I have an upper respiratory/sinus infection. Cary got albuterol; I got antibiotics. Last night, I had drainage from hell -- I seriously could not breathe. Between that and Clair not sleeping well, I got very little sleep.

And then this morning, when Lester woke the boys up for school, Dean cried and told him his ear hurt. When I hugged him and asked him what was wrong, he said his neck hurts (that means his throat). Lester took his temperature and it was slightly elevated (100.2) but when I called his doctor, he said to just see how it goes today. When I dropped Dean off at school, his head felt really hot to me. And he was sullen and slightly whiny. So I guess we will just see how the day goes. If I end up having to take him to the doctor today, I guess I would not be the least bit surprised.

I am sick of sickness. Have I said that already? Ugh!

In other news, what little I did get to see of the inaugural festivities moved me to tears. And Cary and Dean thoroughly enjoyed watching the parade. They danced and jumped and banged on their drums, saying, "Look Mommy, I'm a marching band!" And whenever they caught a glimpse of Barack Obama, they whooped.

Also this weekend, Clair climbed up all the stairs while I was outside putting a carseat in the car and scared the living CRAP outta me. Once again, I was completely caught off guard by her reaching this milestone.

And also...this happened -- many, many times:

In sickness and in health, folks, time keeps moving on.

MLK/President Obama Day reflections

In honor of my homeboy Martin Luther the King, whose birthday is celebrated today -- and my other homeboy, Barack Obama the President, whose second term in office is ushered in today -- I spent some time this morning reflecting on my ancestors and elders, the people whose lives made it possible for me to live the privileged life I do today.

Living in a place like Baltimore, it's easy to forget that, in my grandparents' lifetimes, there were segregated schools and prohibitions on interracial marriage and discriminatory laws that kept black people from buying homes or seeking education in certain colleges or earning as much as their non-black peers. Black people were systematically held back, hazed, hated and even killed.

But so many good people recognized this injustice and instead of just tut-tutting about it with sympathetic others, they withstood hatred and danger and ostracizing to FIGHT to make sure that things would change. I thank those fighters with all my heart.

Some people helped the cause of equality by quietly going about the business of living their lives, with dignity and determination, shoulders squared for the hatred and the obstacles that thwarted them daily. They are the doers. I like to think that many in my own family -- grandparents and great-grandparents and Aunties and Uncles I never met -- are among that group. I hope somehow they know how much I thank, and love, them too.

It is amazing to think that we have come so far in such a relatively short period of time. What a poetic coincidence that President Obama will serve a second term in office, beginning on the day we observe the birthday of Dr. King. 

But today I want to thank all of the heroes (as I should every day). Not just the big names, and not just the fighters, but the everyday doers, too, for paving the way for me and my family. Their insistence (in both big and small ways) that the world recognize their humanity means that I don't have to fight quite as hard. I don't have to do quite as much.

I can just be.


Thank you to all those who lives and deaths provide me with that comfortable existence, that ability to just be. Considering what their lives were like, that feels to me like a supreme privilege. Thank God they knew that it was, in fact, a right.