Thrush music--hark!

Oh, poet Frost, if you only knew what sort of thrush we are harking here in our environmental little duplex in Houston.

One day last week I looked into BabyG's mouth and discovered it had been colonized by one of the most dreadfully mundane banes of humanity I can think of: candida. Or as its called in mouthish circles, thrush.

Oh would that it was a blibbering bird betaking a break upon my babe's tongue, and not this fippishly frothsome fungi!

Oh that my camera could capture, more compleatly, this nigh vanquished villainy!



The pediatrition, who I like because he reminds me of my friend David Bernardy, prescribed some medicine. We are green, but we take medicine.

As the internet had suggested I feed the baby acidopholus, as well, I asked the doctor whether he agreed. He did, so long as it didn't come in yogurt form...she's still too young for cow's milk, he said. So I went and bought little acidopholus capsules and every day I break one into her food, and eat one myself.

This whole plan would have worked swimmingly except that the little dripper I'm supposed to give her the medicine with apparently reminds her of a spoon. Though she had taken her first tiny steps into the land of solid eats before the medicine, after the very first taste of Nystatin, she began shunning anything that appears like it might be containing medicine. All spoons are suspect, in BabyGland, and so she's been hogging my breastmilk.



I was really stressing out about this. Feeding my favorite baby in the world hours and hours worth of breastmilk makes it hard to study for my comps, or to clean, or to do anything for very long.

But then,: Eureka! Today I discovered she'll eat food so long as it comes in anything other than long-stick-looking form. So you can try to feed her with a spoon and spend the morning watching her pucker and stick her tongue out and shake her head no...but if you dip a wedge of tomato or apple or beet -- or as pictured, potatoe -- into her squash and corn purree, she'll chow down hungrily.



Thank God. Not only will the breastfeeding frenzy maybe quiet down a little, but BabyG and I may go into business soon. We'll crunch the disposable spoon industry with the much more earth-friendly edible spoon industry. Maybe I can convince people with finicky babies to pay $5 a yam, or something, and we finally begin saving for BabyG's college education.