Em has been a little better lately about trying new foods. I do mean little, but it's still an improvement.
I made my extra-mild batch of beans with andouille sausage, having extracted from Em a promise to give it an honest try.
She tried the sausage while I was cutting it up and liked it, but when it came to the cautious bite of soup...
She liked it for a second. Then she said it was spicy like the finish of deviled ham. I reminded her that she likes deviled ham and she thought about that and then said, 'But this is more spicy than that. Too much!'
Whatever. So I went ahead and hit it with a little powdered chipotle and some fresh ground black pepper. It was freakin' bland without it. Also, while it was delightful by its lonesome, I also made a big batch of brown rice chicken risotto to ladle it over. Basically just the regular recipe for brown rice but with chicken bouillon added in.
But then when we went to my Mom's today to share the excess beans I'd soaked, Mom had made chili.
My Mom's chili is good stuff, but spicy? No. It tastes more strongly of tomatoes than of cayenne. I've eaten it since I was on solid food, basically since I was one, and I knew even Em couldn't claim it was overly hot and spicy. For real, I've had spaghetti sauce that packed more heat.
And much to my amazement, Em tried it and liked it.
As you can tell, we also had fun building stuff with Lincoln Logs while we were there. As with Legos, you just can't have enough Lincoln Logs. Build the most ambitious cabin out of every single log you can find and you'll still want more. As many as you started with, but in addition. And when you used those up, I suspect you'd still need more.
This guy has the right idea.
So then it's to Wal-Mart to get the oil changed in my car and see if I couldn't get Mo to illuminate me as to what she'd like for her birthday. I couldn't.
Then, I make a turn and Mo doesn't make it with me. She walks into a rack of clothing. Not hard, not enough to knock shit down or anything, but I look at her and, nope, she is not with us.
She's chewing, drooling, it's a pretty mild seizure, but I lead her to a bench by the changing room. Which is when things got adventurous.
Se started doing her head-jerk thing, and these panicked sounding gasps that aren't quite breathing, and her color did not look good. We were maybe three minutes in at this point, and technically the Atavan is for five minutes and beyond. But as scary as it is giving my ten year old daughter a strong drug like that is, it was scarier to see her not fucking breathe. So I gave her the dope as best as I could work it between her lip and gum with her clenching and jerking like that.
This is the first time I've had to administer the Atavan. She had Diastat before, which a far worse drug to have to administer (there's just no dignified or discreet way to administer a rectal syringe, dig?), and by pure dumb luck I never had the occasion to administer it. Or rather, the time I would have administered it, I didn't have it with me. Which was the other problem with Diastat was the syringe was so easily plunged by accident you couldn't take it with you sometimes.
As far as the seizure goes, the Atavan seems to have stopped the seizure. Or maybe the seizure was about over anyway, no telling.
Of course the next adventure is walking out of the Wal-Mart. I felt a little nauseous at this point, and of course my car wasn't exactly available. Much as I'd love to jump in and split, it's not so easy when they've drained the oil out and not finished putting new oil in. So we sat on a bench in the automotive section, Mo sleeping with her head on my shoulder, and waited for the car to be ready so we could go home.
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