Germy Daddy

Every Tuesday William and I walk to the Ontario Early Years Centre where a nurse whose name I forget does a talk on something. Last week's topic was making your own baby food. The week before that, sun safety and West Nile virus. I don't know what the topic is today, but we probably won't go.

Why not? William's germy Daddy has given us both colds. At least, I have a cold. It's hard to tell if William is suffering from a sore throat like the rest of us, or just crying because he's a baby. Whatever, the point is I don't think it would be very nice to spread the germs to the other Mom's and babies.

So what do I do with myself? I know not. Perhaps I'll peruse the book on sign language that I got at the Salsa shower. So far I learned that I've been doing things all wrong. For one thing, I was incorrectly doing the sign for change. For another, the signs for "milk" and "change", while practical, are no fun for babies. Babies are more likely to learn words and signs for things that they can't express by crying. Like "airplane" or "ceiling fan". Or so says the book.

Another obstacle to this signing business is that I need to have two extra arms grafted to my body. I wonder how those who are truly hearing impaired hold their children and talk to them at the same time. Maybe I'll figure this out by the time he's six-months old (the optimum age for starting to sign according to the book). At least this sore throat will be gone by then.

Hopefully this cold will be gone by Thursday so William will be healthy enough to get his first shots. (Although, postponing such scariness can't be too bad).