The Adventures of Super Q

I keep outdoing myself with these long pauses of blogging. Keep trying to shake you people -- but you've got quite a grip! Much like a certain little girl I know.

So where did we last leave our tiny but ever-growing heroine...?

After her little Birthday Bash, we had a busy work week (to make it even more busy, I returned to my Master's program), then my parents came to town for a visit on their way to Florida for work. Quinn and the dog were delighted.

Reunited with their youngest grandchild, my parents looked complete. Jack and I were mere spectators, but we loved every minute of it.

Within a few days of my parents leaving, Jack had a Army bash in Nashville that we had quite some preparing for...

The only suitable dress I had turned up at a dry-cleaner's in Massachusetts, we needed to coordinate with the babysitter how to get to the hotel we'd all be staying at, any shoes the dog might find had to be stashed since he gets a foot fetish whenever we leave town, and in the meantime we would also need to pack for our short annual ski trip to Utah.

Yeah, THAT ski trip. The one that last year caused Quinn to be a Utah native instead of a Cali kid.

It was a cluster, to say the least, but all went well and we had a blast. The flight to Utah felt a bit like a time machine because we had gone to bed after midnight and by 5am were at the airport not having a clue if we'd packed anything other than diapers.

I'm not a big drinker, but I feel hungover any day I have to wake up before 5am. That just isn't natural.

We weren't really eager to subject Lil Lil (as she's also known) to yet another journey across country (by the end of this trip, it would be her 9th flight!). But this trip was special. It was our chance to see our close friends Tom and Jill, while Tom was back on a break from his year deployment to Iraq.

Had we missed it (and THANK YOU Army, we almost did), it would be somewhere between two and three years since the last time Jack had seen Tom, and we just couldn't let that happen.

Besides, the mountains had snow! Almost as much as the dumping Tennessee had (see Quinn riding in our makeshift sled, touring our TN 'hood).

As expected, the trip to Utah was fabulous... I'm starting to think EVERYTHING in Utah is fabulous.

Giving up a half day of skiing, Jack braved a tour of the NICU where Quinn and I spent the first two months of her life. One of the nurses took him to the room where my NICU buddy, Tiffany, and I spent countless hours hovering over our kids, and showed him a baby about the same size and gestational age Quinn was when she was born.

He couldn't believe you could pick such a tiny being up without breaking her. And to think she was one of bigger premies!

While Jack got entrenched in all things-NICU, Quinn and I hung out in the hallway with some of the amazing and wonderful nurses I befriended there.

As crappy as it was to have a premie, Quinn couldn't have been born in a better place! I can't believe how much I adore and miss those ladies. It felt like a whole 'nother kind of homecoming for me, and Quinn was bubbling over with joy.

Despite having my camera hung around my neck, I totally spaced on taking pictures until I met up for lunch with two of them -- Emily & Galina, and Galina's newborn, Peter. Phew!

From there we stopped by the Ronald McDonald House where I burrowed a home in the snow...

And yes, it looks like a B&B because it used to be. Wasn't quite B&B kind fun while I was living there, but I so appreciated a quiet and beautiful home to be in while trying to stay sane.

After touring Salt Lake and grabbing a bite at the tasty crepe place, the three of us headed to Park City to meet Uncle Tom and Auntie Jill.

To really pack in the fun, the plan was for Tiffany and her family to drive down and spend the night there too, so we could spend the next day cross-country skiing with the premie pack.

But shortly after we arrived in Utah, Tiffany called to say the boys had a cold. It probably wasn't RSV (a particularly nasty virus for premies) since they had the vaccine against it, but it was a cold nonetheless.

They were still willing to make the drive down, but being as neurotic as we, they figured it was probably best to cancel. Quinn hadn't had her first cold yet, and we were trying to keep it that way until RSV season was over in April. It was a huge disappointment, but we promised to have a reunion this summer or fall, the next chance we get, and to skype plenty in the meantime.

Well, long story short... The trip to Utah was fantastic. Quinn had her first experience spending the day with a babysitter. Jack and Tom had time to get all caught up on Army life, deployment details, and plenty of fresh tracks down the mountain. And Jill and I impressed the two of them, and ourselves, after we boot-packed to ski down some crazy heights.

The trip back to Tennessee was smooth and all went well until a few days later when I started to get sick... and then, Quinn started to get sick. Unfortunately, sporting a mask and sterilizing everything I touched didn't keep it from getting into her system.

Was kind of hoping to be the first to give her a driving lesson, or a hug after a teenage heartbreak, but not her first cold!!! I felt like such a failure, and a giant a-hole.

The first chance I got I took her to the doc, only to hear the horrid news that she probably had RSV.

After two months in the NICU, you too would be convinced that RSV is the virtual plague for a premie. It's bad bad bad. Yet this doctor wasn't freaking out. Her only cause for alarm seemed to be because it looked like I might pass out.

Both my parents and Tiffany gasped when I told them the prognosis, which made me feel a bit more sane for being freaked.

She gave us some instructions to help get her weight up (over the course of three weeks, she's down from 16lb 3oz to 16lb 1oz...gulp!), some antibiotics for her ear-infection (now I'm ready to sob), and something to lessen the pain in her ear canal.

As of yesterday, it wasn't clear if or when either of us would get better. But this afternoon, Quinn is definitely more like herself (i.e. abusing the dog, bouncing and squealing in Jack's arms like a rockstar, and blowing spit bubbles at me).

So, the lesson for today has been: less coughing = less cough-induced vomiting, which means more calories, which (I'll help you extrapolate if you aren't good at logic) is a good thing.

So, take many loads of vomit-laundry, add a few tons of Kleenex, and top with three or four mind-bending graduate school papers... you wind up with one very bad blogger.

But, we are certain to still come out ahead -- or so I think (can you tell I'm not so good at math?). More health and (hopefully) humor to come...

Until then,

Love from Super Q and Her Entourage