Tuesday, I spent the day with Victor. He is an amazing child! Always so happy and inquisitive. He tolerates my dressing him in his adorable baby clothes so that we can go to the park. And he explores the upstairs room, fascinated by it all, making excited, high-pitched sounds like, "WooOOOooo!" when he comes across something he likes. One such activity that elicits this reaction is pushing on the stroller and watching it move. Such joy from such simple things. I love experiencing the world through his eyes.

When he awoke from his first nap, he smiled at me and began playing with the toys in his crib. He happily picked up a teddy bear and stood up and then sat down, and just played for quite some time. Every time he looked over at me, I'd smile at him, and he'd smile back, from ear to ear. So cute! When he decided he was bored, I got him out of the crib and let him play in a different room, laughing at all the cute sounds he made and trying to get him to laugh, succeeding many times. I love that little baby laugh of his!

His second nap was just as long as the first (an hour!), but he awoke much less happy. He began to cry, and little tears ran down his cheeks. I felt so bad for him! Since he still appeared tired, I tried rocking him and singing to him, which calmed him, but didn't lull him back to sleep. He cried and stopped, alternating back and forth. Cheerios seemed to cheer him up for a while. He kept rubbing his eyes and his face, periodically. Then I sat on the floor with him and we played with some of his toys. He chased after the cats, and seemed to be feeling a little better. Soon afterwards, Beth and her husband came home! So that really cheered him up! I let them know what was going on, as I handed him over to them. Lo and behold, the little guy had a fever! Teething causes fevers in babies (something new I learned), and that's exactly what had him so upset. I'd be upset, too, if my gums hurt that much. Poor Victor... They gave him baby Motrin, and showed me how to do so at the same time. I felt his forhead a few times so I'd know for future reference what a fever feels like on him. He was surprisingly less hot than I expected, actually, but there you have it. I learn something new every time I'm with Victor! It's fascinating, really.

By the time I left, he was in good spirits, and I felt good we'd had a nice day together (but still felt bad about not realizing he had a fever!). I really love that little guy, and enjoy spending time with him. Days with Victor are a wonderful part of my week, I must say!

Wednesday night, Joe and I turned on the t.v. to watch American Idol, and instead, a "Breaking News Report," was playing. As reporters spoke, and pictures of night-vision images played on the screen, words appeared below the picture, revealing to us what we'd been expecting for some time now, "War with Iraq has Begun."

The same ten minutes worth of news played over and over, amounting to a 45 minute news report. It was frustrating to hear the same thing again and again, the same awful news, the same statement of, "And we don't know much more and likely won't for several days..."

Then American Idol came on, and I got to forget for a little while that we are at war. War. Something of the past, or far away places. Not something that my country could be involved in at this very moment. Yet, that's what's happening. And that seems so unreal to me...

I felt further helpless and worried in my own home when Joe got sick that very night. He felt very hot to the touch, and complained of being freezing and dizzy. Joe had a fever, I was sure. I bought a thermometer Thursday morning. Joe's forehead felt much cooler, yet his temperature was 101.9 F. I don't know what it must have been Wednesday night! His temperature has continued to fluctuate a few degrees ever since.

Yesterday (Friday), I taught my class. Joe's temperature was normal when I left, so I felt much better about leaving him alone and letting him rest. Since my 11:00 class had only had one student arrive last week, the two classes were consolidated into one, at 10:00. I was anxiety-ridden over the whole thing, because I wasn't sure I was prepared enough. However, I got these cute shiny plastic eggs from Albertson's, which were so perfect for class, they alleviated many of my fears. Alas, I had eggs for my "Eggs, eggs, eggs" class!

The kids were excited and had fun with the craft, which involved gluing wiggly eyes and a construction paper beak onto a piece of yellow fluff, and sticking it inside the shimmering plastic eggs I'd bought. Voila! -- Instant baby chicks!

I'd assumed that would take 15 minutes. Instead, it took all of 5. Class even ended five minutes early because we'd done everything I planned for. I'll have to come up with more stuff for next week! As usual, class was really fun and I left feeling happy and accomplished.

When I got home, Joe's fever was 102, and he was dizzy again (or possibly still). I took him to the doctor and apparently, it's a virus that just needs to run its course. I feel so bad for him! This morning, at least, his appetite had returned and he was asking for Burger King breakfast. Not the healthiest of meals, but oh well. I went and picked up Croissanwiches for us both.

On the drive back, the radio announced six reporters were killed yesterday in Baghdad, I believe it was. Two of them were Americans. And my awareness once again broadened outside of just my own little world, to the world at large. The thought that's been mostly in the back of my mind was once again brought to the forefront... We're at war.

I can't really fathom it, to tell you the truth. All week, I've been living my life as usual, spending time with sweet and innocent children who are too young to know what's happening in the rest of the world. Caring for my darling, feverish husband. Worrying about plastic eggs or the lack thereof. Enjoying the first days of Spring and the anniversary cards I got in the mail. And all the while, a war is playing out, half a world away.

Many people are saying this takes them back to 1991, the time of the Gulf War. The same fear, the same worry and uncertainty. And I wish I could say the same thing. But I was only ten years old then, a fourth grader. A child completely oblivious to the world's issues. I didn't even know the Gulf War was a real war. I didn't know what it was, or why it was on t.v. so much. I thought maybe people were having meetings in another country about Something Important. I knew whatever was going on must be significant in some way; I just didn't really have any concept of the What or Whys of it all. I didn't really have any concept of anything outside of my teachers, family, and my aspirations of becoming a writer.

And so really, this is the first time I've experienced these kinds of feelings. The realization that a war is going on, one that involves my own country. The worry of retaliation here in the U.S. The knowledge that lives are being lost as I sit here typing.

It seems silly to type that last statement. Lives are lost every day. Wars happen in other places around the world. But, like I thought as a child, those battles are of places Far Away. And I've sheltered myself so much from the news for so long that I don't know anything about the specifics of any of those problems in other countries. I am not abreast of information on who is fighting whom and why. I'm still confused. I'm still confused about this war, the one I feel more emotionally involved in than any other in my lifetime. I guess, in some ways, I still am that naive child I once was.

And I find my thoughts turning to the children I've spent time with this week, hoping their lives are different than mine. I hope there is no war for them to compare to this one, no time when they say, "I was too young to remember the war with Iraq... Too small, too naive to know what was happening. But this war is real to me. This war is frightening. Lives are being lost half a world away, and I feel helpless, scared, and confused..."

~~Meg