Reminder to self

Things I need to write about:

• The she's-a-boy-she's-a-girl incident in the park in Dublin
• The "my nose!" incident on the bus in Dublin
• The visit from the other Linnea
• Washing my hair with baking soda and apple cider vinegar
• C-sections, therapy and feelings of impending doom

MY nose!

While Linnea and I were staying with my mother in a suburb of Dublin, we caught the bus to the nearest town to do some boring banking stuff. I parked Linnea's buggy with the back against the wheelchair headrest, as per the instructions on the window, and sat opposite her in the nearest ordinary seat. Mum sat beside me.

Mum and I chatted, and occasionally Linnea remarked on passing trees and houses, and we remarked back to her. I glanced over and saw her finger in her nose; leaned forwards and removed it, saying "No!" firmly.

She put it back in. I removed it again, and she returned it again, and said, at least as firmly as my "No"s had been, "My nose."

I removed it again - "Yes, it is your nose, and you must not put your finger in it. No!" She returned it, and said "MY nose."

I removed it again, with ever-increasing firmness and strictness of tone and content. She used two hands, and so two fingers, to plug both nostrils.

"MY nose!" she said.

"Linnea," I asked, "would you like some gloves?"