We're Baaaaack.

Rested, rejuvenated, etc. But it's too bad that the effects of vacation can't be carried back into "real life." More updates soon!

VACATION

I think it's utterly ironic that I was doubting my need for a vacation last week. I thought, "Well, how stressful is the life of a stay-at-home-mom, anyway?" As a result, my nemesis, "This Week", taught me a valuable lesson.

I have been to the hospital three times this week. One for the ER trip with The Munch, and two to visit my friend. I spent all of yesterday afternoon in the pediatrician's office/lab while the boy underwent several u-g-l-y procedures to rule out serious infection (we're in the clear), and to try to determine the cause of this mysterious eight day fever. To top of the week o' medicine, the dog now needs (ANOTHER) trip to the vet tomorrow because of a possible eye infection. I'm sending Brad. (By the way, have I mentioned that the dog is currently undergoing a nine month long process of daily-then-weekly-then-monthly allergy shots to manage his issues with food and environmental allergies? And he is also on a steroid to control his itching?Which doesn't appear to be working since he's scratched his eye area so badly that it may be infected? Yep.)

In addition, those closest to us are aware that there is Other Stuff going on that we cannot yet share with The Internet (andNOI'mnotpregnantbutI'mneverwearingthisshirtagain). But that Other Stuff has taken up a great deal of our time belonging to "This Week."

So.

I'm not telling you this because I'm complaining. On the contrary. I'm happy to take care of the needs of our son; I'm thrilled that there is nothing serious going on. Although, I've gone through an entire bottle of Infant Motrin and 1/2 a bottle of Children's Tylenol, and I'm not too excited that he's had that pumping through his tiny (and evidently difficult to find!) veins. I'm thankful to have the time to visit my hospitalized friend, to offer a tiny shred of comfort and/or humor. I'm..."happy" that we have the...financial means (ah! there's a PC way to put it!) to get to the root of my very high-maintenance dog's health issues. And I will be VERY HAPPY when we have taken care of the Other Stuff, once and for all.

But. I'm also delighted to be headed on vacation. I'm eternally grateful to The Munch's Mimi for hosting him (and the high-maintenance dog) for a week. And I won't be posting, so I'll see ya'll when we get back.

XOXO

Hannah

P.S. Ooh! And! My Google Analytics report tells me that my readership is up 37% in the last four weeks! What? Which of you is responsible for gettin' out the word? Hey, if you have a blog, feel free to post a comment and leave your link, as some readers don't know that your comment username is also a hyperlink to your blog. IF you want more readers, that is. And who doesn't want more readers?

FevER

Things I learned from 10:45pm-2:15am during the Munchkin's first trip to the ER:


1. Turns out, a small child with a fever between 100 and 102.9 for six days really isn't a big deal. Turns out, it can last up to two weeks, when accompanied by a cold.

2. When you call the nurse on the after hours line at the doctors' office, she will probably always tell you to "just get it checked out" at the ER, if only to cover her own butt.

3. I was "right to bring him in, though, just in case." Yeah, and I'm sure you're not sad about the co-pay either.

4. I'm proud of myself that I made it a year without having to call the after hours nurse OR take him to the ER.

5. I'm proud of myself that during our entire 2.5 hour wait to be seen, I did not once ask if it was almost our turn.

6. White sweat pants with flowered underwear are a popular fashion trend in this particular ER waiting room.

7. We should have bought the Munchkin a bead table for his birthday. He stayed awake the. entire. visit.

8. The next time I have an after hours problem, I should probably call one of my eleventy billion Aunts-Who-Are-Also-Nurses, first.


Le sigh. He's sleeping it off.

Edited: I did forget to mention the part about when The Boy saw the "Little Engine that Could" book, he pointed to the train and went, "Woo woo!!!" (Because every time we see a train--which is a lot; they go by the park frequently--we wave to the choo choo train and make the choo choo sound.)

1st Birthday Celebration!

Mexican Fiesta!



Cake!


Balloons!


Okay, so I was asked by a certain set of grandparents to "take lots of pictures." I took two. But someone else took 230. I narrowed it down to 134. You're welcome. (?) If mobileme can handle it, I'll upload them all so that the aforementioned relatives and others can download what they wish. For the rest of you, skim as needed.

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae/100419

1 Year

Weight: 22 lbs, 3 oz (50th percentile)
Height: 29.75 in (50th percentile)
HC: 18 1/4 in (50th percentile)

Dear Munchkin,
How your daddy and I have changed this last year. Correction: how you have changed us. We are overjoyed that you allow us to be your parents, and are so very excited for the years to come. Here are some highlights from the past month:

- Making your first stack of blocks, all by yourself
- "Kissing" me by ramming your mouth into my face
- Loving your new interlocking mats in your playroomarea
- Dragging your wooden tower all the way across the room so you could put it in the drawer under the stove
- Crawling up the stairs
- Crawling on hands on knees! Finally!
- Saying some version of "kick, kick, kick" in the bathtub, which is what I say
- Giving a nice smile to the man who wished you "Happy St. Patrick's Day"....on September 2
- ALWAYS showing your excitement when you see your dad
- Crying when Oliver was getting washed in your bathtub (because he was in your tub? because he was wet and looked different? because you thought I was hurting him? who knows)
- Making a clicking sound with your tongue, which you learned to do on the day you got your first fat lip
- Giggling and doing the butt dance while listening to your singing Hoops and Yoyo birthday card
- Snuggling with your head on my shoulder, but only after you put your Pooh blanket there first. You always sleep with your face on top of your blanket.
- Feeding Oliver by sneaking the food under the tray of your high chair
- Knowing OH SO WELL that you aren't supposed to play with Oliver's water-in the toilet-with the floor fan...and looking slyly over your shoulder to see if we are watching. If we are, you shake your head at us to tell us, "no no no."
- Instigating the drinking games at "Huey's" 1st birthday party

Here is a video montage of your first year of life:



All our love forever and ever,
Mom and Dad

Sometimes, it's JUST NOT FUN

Here's a brief synopsis of (part of) today:

A loving, caring person called me this morning to ask if I needed any help today, knowing that I was gearing up for company and the Munchkin's birthday party this weekend. I kindly said no, that I just needed to shop for groceries and clean, and even though we were scheduled to show the house at 4:15, I was confident I could squeeze it all in. Ahem.

The Munch and I went off to the store (and--stupidly--two other places, first), and during what felt like the longest shopping trip of at least the last four years, he was in full-blown meltdown mode the. entire. time. We returned home with an hour and 15 minutes before our scheduled showing , and I popped him in his crib where he proceeded to protest his third afternoon nap this week. But I left him there to squirm and fuss while I dashed to the car to retrieve the groceries. Upon flinging open the trunk door, a giant GLASS jar of salsa rolled right out and broke all over the garage floor. SwearingSweating and, um, crying a little, I cleaned up the glass and salsa, leaving a lovely smell of tomatoes to scent the garage that currently stinks like old garbage because the Garbage Guys forgot to empty our can last week....but that's another story. Finally back to the groceries, I brought them to the toy-strewn main floor, also decorated with cleaning supplies, and was three bags away from finished when I heard a key in the lock. CRAP.

The realtor (not ours) was ONE ENTIRE HOUR EARLY for the showing and couldn't have been bothered to call or at least RING THE BELL, FOR THE LUVUHGUH. I raced downstairs to beat her to the punch (thank you, dead bolt) and she said, "Oh, sorry! We're a little early." I muttered something about being "quite a bit early, actually," and, while the dog was trying to escape, told her I needed five minutes. Sigh. Frantically, I scurried back upstairs, shoved all the groceries in the fridge, threw the toys in the box, made a bottle, leashed the dog, dumped the cleaning stuff in the closet, collected the kid/pacifier/pooh bear blanket, and scrambled to the Salsa Garage to get the stroller out of the trunk. Thank goodness for the one-handed, super-quick release opening feature of the stroller! I picked it up, tossed it open, and BANG. Front wheel fell off. Etc., etc., we finally got out the door. But, man, when it rains, it hails.

The worst part? I have to go back to the store for more sala. Ole!

Mommy's Little Helper