editor's note: no babies were harmed in the taking of this picture, and he did NOT launch himself off the changing table, much to his disappointment...
Day Care called me at work yesterday around 1pm - I had one hour to pick up the LilDude, because he had goopy eyes, and they thought it was pink eye. He was banished to quarantine in a high chair so he didn't contaminate the entire center by rolling his goop around the carpet, or smearing it on the other munchkins. I left work, and called the doctor's office to get an appointment, and instantly starting thinking how itchy my eyes were. I thought to myself (for the first time of many): don't touch your eyes!
Upon arrival at day care, I saw my little king ruling his dominion from his high chair. He was having a good ol' time in quarantine - just sitting on the edge of the play area, chatting away, issuing commands to his minions: "Antonio, pick up the red ball, now roll it to Tommy... you, over there, yeah you, Carlo, chew on that orange toy... Madison, you've been busy rolling all morning, take 5 - you deserve a nap." Okay, fine, it sounded like babbling, but I swear that is what he was saying. I swept him up (taking his crib sheet and blanket for phase one of decontamination) and took him home. He played on the floor of my bedroom, and was only allowed plastic toys that could be sanitized (seriously, I am good at decontamination).
As the hours ticked by, the goop multiplied. By the time we got the the doctor (7:15pm was the first appointment available - at the after hours clinic), his eyes were just GROSS. But he didn't care - he was smiling and happy as could be. Which is interesting, since his usual bedtime is 7:30. The doctor came in and commented on how happy he was, and noted that his eyes didn't look very pink... just goopy. A quick look in the ears, and she diagnosed him with a double ear infection, not pink eye. Phew... wait? what? A double ear infection? That doesn't sound good! He is one tough LilDude - he has been acting like his same old happy self, eats fine, sleeps fine, no temp, doesn't even rub his ears. How are we ever going to know if he is sick?
Off to play in the snow... um, I mean... SUNSHINE!
It only took thirty(+) years, but FINALLY... I got my blue eyes:
The TWOoth fairy made a visit to our house at 3am on Saturday night/Sunday morning (doing a drop-off, not a pick-up). I know she was there, cause LilDude started screaming, and he is generally a fabulous sleeper (which we thank our lucky stars for every night). So when the monitor began transmitting his screeches, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but two miniature teeth on my sweet little dear. That nice TWOoth fairy must have been saving on gas, since she did a two for one by launching them both on the same night. Which meant I only had one night of interrupted sleep... I'll take it!
You can sort of barely almost but not quite see the little white specs popping through. We only tormented him for about 17 pictures before I gave up and called this one the best. Just squint, use your imagination... and try to picture them straight so I don't have to spend every other Tuesday at the orthodontist in 13 years.
What a mess. But would you expect anything else from me? Organization, planning - definitely on my list of strengths (or obsessions, whatever). But neatness, not so much. I love making a mess.
This is how we feed our child. We'll have to unlearn this sitting on the table business. Hopefully, he'll be so young he won't remember that we used to let him do this. Don't tell him!
If you had the previous 30 minutes on video, here is how it would look:
Scout and I sitting on the end of the table that opens to the hallway, LilDude sitting on top of the table furthest from the hallway. Two plates on the table, sitting just out of LilDude's reach. With his ever expanding wingspan, we underestimate his powers about twice a week, and have to use our catlike reflexes to block him. Or, we use our catlike reflexes to go get a towel and wipe up the spilled water, thankful that the glass didn't break, and make a mental note to use plastic cups tomorrow.
LilDude tells us he is ready for dinner by groaning and pitching forward toward his food bowl with his mouth wide open. He will lean and lean and lean until finally, 3.2 seconds later, he is satiated with a tiny glob of sticky rice goo or vegetable puree from the hand that magically delivers the spoon to his mouth. Which will hold him over for 2.7 seconds. Mark this as the beginning of the feeding frenzy. LilDude has modeled his dance moves from the 'Hungry Hungry Hippo' 4-man group. He starts sitting up, then lunges forward, head tilted back, mouth hinged open until he meets with the spoon, then he CHOMPS down, whisking away the deliciousness into his hollow leg. Repeat. And do not stop, else he will cry. Yes, we have had real tears. Do NOT get between him and his food... you will be sorry. Scout and I eat our dinner with the "one rubber tipped spoonful for you, one metal utensil spoonful for me" approach. Of course we are eating different things. I have tried a speck of baby food, and honestly, it's just not that good. I much prefer lasagna. In between the dual spoonfuls, Scout and I also take turns defending our feast from the dog. She paces the hall, attempting to invade our space with a not-so-sneaky sneak attack. With her size, there is really nothing subtle or sneaky about her. Thankfully, she is not persistent, and after a few deflections, she tires, sinks to the floor in defeat, and gives us her sad eyes (which are her everyday eyes) from the hallway. She sits and waits, until we vacate the table, then she circles her spoils, and licks the floor clean of whatever fell beyond the edge of the table. Mess removed.
My feet hurt.
I am exhausted.
But it was all worth it... cause look at our seats! Jon Bon was RIGHT in front of me! I could see the beads of sweat on his face, and his gorgeous smile, and the pixels on the big screen that I didn't even need to look at, cause LOOK HOW CLOSE WE WERE!
I have Bon Jovi songs stuck in my head.
I'm not sure how that is different than any other day.
Fabulous people watching place - the young (a 10 year old in the pit who got a high five from Richie Sambora), the old (60-somethings in front of me with their glow in the dark earplugs, a man in a wheelchair who was no less than 80), the mulletted, the lace and leathered, and of course, the hoochies (statistically prevalent in the first few rows).
* full disclosure: i stole this pic from TrailMomma... because I am lazy, and didn't feel like uploading mine... also, i think mine are blurry... or my vision is blurry... did I mention I'm tired?