Stay Classy

Leavin' on a jetplane...

When I said good night to Brady tonight after dinner, I did it knowing I wouldn't see him again until Monday morning. I'm flying out of Omaha in the morning to spend the weekend in LA for my high school reunion. I have a super fun, jam-packed weekend planned with friends I miss like crazy.

Still, I fought tears all the way back to work.

That's 3 whole days, people!

I know I mentioned this trip months ago, and I know that it's seriously no big deal to be away from your kid for 3 days. But given that I've never even left him overnight, this is a big step for us. I know it's healthy, and I know he'll barely even notice I'm gone, and I know I'll be home before I know it.

This has not stopped me, however, from being super dramatic about it. I have literally had Peter, Paul, and Mary songs stuck in my head all day. "I'm leavin' on a jetplane, don't know when I'll be back again..." (except that I totally DO know when I'll be back-- freaking Monday! How lame am I?). "Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four, Lord I'm 500 miles from my home..." (Yes... and I'll be back in 3 days! What is wrong with me?!?) 

After an extensive family snuggle this morning during which Brady was extra adorable, I told Paul about my growingly obsessive thoughts about emotional folk songs. He declared me insane and proceeded to make toast like nothing was out of the ordinary (which, really, it wasn't-- there are reasons to declare me insane on a fairly regular basis). He also promised to take pictures of the busy "bachelor weekend" he has planned with Brady, which would consist mainly of beer, fast food, and football on television. I'm almost completely sure he's kidding.

If you don't hear from me over the weekend, you can assume that I bucked up and got on the plane like a big girl. I can't promise that I won't cry a little on the plane. Let's face it-- if history serves, I'll probably cry on the plane on the way back too because I don't want to leave my parents and friends and L.A.

I'll blame pregnancy hormones, I'm sure. And you'll have to believe me, because only a totally insensitive jerk would accuse a pregnant woman of lying. :) 

Well, he WILL be...

Coming Spring 2010!
 

Project 365

11/3/09

Brady's new "CHEESE!" face.

 

11/7/09

It's hard enough to get Brady to sit long enough to get his own hair cut-- forget about getting him to sit through Paul's haircut as well. Fortunately, there's a Petsmart next door to the salon. I am not above saying that we totally use it like a zoo. Come on-- there are fish, birds, kittens, frogs, and even dogs getting their own haircuts-- what's not for a kid to love? 

11/8/09

We are finally getting some real fall weather, and we're taking full advantage. This morning we rode our bikes to a beautiful park that's about 3 miles from our house, and Brady explored his newfound love of crunching the fallen leaves.

I love that this park is big enough that he can just run and run... but flat enough that I can still see him. Be free, little runner!

Fall is happy.

 

Observed

When I left for work this afternoon, Brady was being "observed".

A friend of ours who babysits him occasionally is getting her masters (?) in early childhood education, and she's required to spend a certain number of hours observing kids and writing reports. So when I left, she was down in the basement watching Brady and Paul playing with a ball and taking notes. As far as I could tell, Brady had already had two crying meltdowns (one because he thought her arrival meant Mommy and Daddy were leaving, and one because he couldn't watch firetruck videos on Paul's iPhone). Maybe having her come over for the hour immediately preceding nap time wasn't the best idea.

I don't think I want to read that report.

Not cool.

If you're offended by words commonly used to describe the things that go on in diapers, I'd go ahead and stop reading now. Come back tomorrow and I'll talk about puppies and flowers, k?

I'll wait.

Anyway, yesterday morning it became suddenly clear that Brady needed a clean diaper. A certain all-too-familiar odor had alerted me that he had "stinky papers" (why he started referring to dirty diapers this way I have no idea, but now we all do it), and I asked about it.

"Brady, do you have stinky papers?"

"No, no, no!" (He's not a huge fan of having his diaper changed.)

"Brady, I think you pooped. Do you have stinky papers?"

"No, I FART!"

So not only is my kid straight out lying to me, but somehow knows the lovely word fart. Paul claims innocence, but can't stop laughing about it.

I think there may be too many boys in my house.

Trick-Or-Treat!

Given that Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, I was super excited in the weeks leading up to it. It's been a long time since I haven't had to work right through all the festivities, so I wanted to go full-out this year.

Then we all got sick, and all bets were off. I just knew that if I even tried to explain trick-or-treating to Brady and got him excited, he would absolutely get sick just in time to not be able to go. So we never even mentioned it, and on Halloween morning we had no candy, no decorations, and a kid who had never even heard of the holiday. By 5:30pm, there were pumpkins (albeit, fake) in the yard, decorations in the windows, a bucket of candy by the door, and a very excited toddler-sized tiger ready to hit the street. So off we went.

I think the whole concept just confused Brady for the first few houses, but he caught on quickly. By about the 5th house he started saying "Trick or treat!". A few houses later he would reach out, pick a candy out of the bowl, and put it in his bucket. Shortly after he even started saying, "thank you".

The truth is, we really didn't know if Brady would even get trick-or-treating at all. Paul and I had wondered if we were really doing it more for ourselves and the photo op, and I was fully prepared to go home after a few houses. But oh boy did Brady ever get it. He loved it.

 

I can't believe how far he walked. I thought we'd hit 5 or 6 houses, but we went to easily 20. I asked Brady several times if he wanted to go home or keep going and knock on more doors. He was very definitive in his answer: "More doors". So on we went.

I really don't think Brady had any idea that what people were giving him was anything he'd want to eat-- they were just fun, brightly colored little presents. He was even brave enough to go ask the witch down the street.

 

When it started to get really dark and Brady almost got run over a few times by charging groups of 7 and 8 year old boys, I figured it was time to go home and help hand out the candy. 

As soon as we got in the house, Brady sat down in the middle of the living room, dumped out his bucket, and spread out all his loot. He sat there playing with his candy for easily 45 minutes, with breaks to get up and run to the door each time he heard more kids.

I can't tell you how happy I am that we decided to "do" Halloween with Brady this year. It was probably one of the best nights of his little life, and one of those "we'll remember it forever" moments for ol' Mama and Dada.

Project 365

Ok, so it's bee way too long since I actually just sat down and did a Project 365 post. I'm not declaring the project a failure, through-- I'll soldier on! I pretty much took zero photos while we were all sick, so there are quite a few missing. I think I'll just pick up where I left off last time, put up what I have, and then move on from there, k?

10/12/09

The kid enjoys his apples.

10/15/09

Paul is particularly proud of this photo. Look at that form!

10/18/09

The obligatory, "Just sit nicely with your father so I can take a heart-warming holiday photo, darn it!" The was the best we did. As you may be able to tell, Brady was a little squirmy.

10/19/09

I LOVE the fall colors here. For some reason, we just didn't seem to get that in L.A. :)

10/22/09

Hanging out with Brady and Baby Jude. Look, Ma! I can watch two at once!

10/31/09

Happy little trick-or-treater.

  
 

Aaaaaand... We're Back

So I thought I had more or less beaten the swine when I declared myself better and went back to work on Tuesday. I had already stayed home sick on Friday and Monday, and figured that would be sufficient.

But then Paul got sick, and I ended up going home before 4 o'clock on Tuesday so I could watch Brady while Paul shivered and sweat and moaned about his 102 degree fever. I went back to work that night after I put Brady to bed and anchored the 10pm news, but I could already tell I was heading downhill. I had developed a deep, rattling cough way down in my chest, and my fever came back. I wasn't any better in the morning (and this was after 5 days on Tamiflu), so I called my doctor, who sent me to urgent care. Urgent care heard "already had a course of Tamiflu" and "asthmatic", and I had earned myself an unexpected trip to the emergency room. So I left Brady with the ailing Paul and drove myself to the ER. It all seemed highly dramatic to me, but I decided to just shut up and do what my doctors told me.

3 hours, a breathing treatment, and a chest x-ray later, I had a diagnosis of bronchitis (not pneumonia! yay!), a prescription for antibiotics, and orders to stay home for the rest of the day. (I do have to say that I heart Lincoln, Nebraska for things exactly like trips to the ER. I never even sat down in the waiting room-- just talked to the receptionist, who sent me off to a nurse, who put me in my own room. 10 minutes later a nurse came in, and 15 minutes after that I saw the doctor. Awesome. Still, I couldn't find George Clooney anywhere.) 

I let Brady watch way too many cartoons that evening while Paul laid in bed and convalesced and I laid on the couch and hacked up a lung.

I again fully intended on going back to work on Thursday, but after my follow-up visit with my doctor revealed "still a ton of wheezing", I was ordered to stay home again.

So here it is Friday, and I think we're all finally on our way back. I'm at work, Paul has been out of bed most of the day and is cracking jokes again, and Brady magically still has managed to avoid the evil H1N1 (we're keeping our fingers crossed!).

A few more highlights of Swine Flu '09:

-Since we canceled the movie channels a few months ago, being sick in bed now means watching whatever is on tv. As a result, I watched City Slickers, Chasing Amy, and Silence of the Lambs, as well as many, many episodes of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and the True Hollywood Story of Courtney Cox at least twice. Paul rented the movie Sunshine Cleaning for me, which I recommend.

-It turns out that one of the only things in the world that sounds good to me when I'm sick is a #6 Vegetarian sandwich from Jimmy John's (no mayo, add dijon mustard). I have literally had one on 7 of the past 8 days. Don't judge me-- we eat a lot of takeout when I'm sick.

-Taking care of a sick husband and a toddler simultaneously while you are still somewhat sick is hard, and by the end of all of it I probably was not as cheerful a nurse as Paul deserved. Thanks for not throwing a tray at me or something, hon. :)

-Brady now wakes up and asks, "Daddy sick? Daddy bed?" He also reminds me to go, "Check Daddy!" and sometimes to "Fix Daddy!" Apparently he said the same things about me when I was the one stuck in bed. Poor kid.

-I am so, so thankful that the H1N1 flu didn't hit us any harder than it did.

-Now go wash your hands, everyone! Go... sanitize something, and stay healthy!  

Happy Halloween!

Oink Oink

So I dropped off the face of the earth again, right after writing about how I wasn't going to do that anymore. But I have an excuse this time!

After half my office was sick last week, I finally caught it. I've been home since Friday, and I have been sick. as. a. dog. This swine flu stuff? It suuuuucks. I'm just starting to surface... and now Paul has it. Brady is magically still healthy (if you have any prayers to spare, would you mind asking that he stays that way?), and we're doing everything we can to protect him. I literally wasn't within 6 feet of him from last Thursday evening until this morning, and now that Paul is sick we're trying to do the same with him. My boss let me take a half day today and stay home until Brady went to sleep so that we could keep him away from Paul, but obviously that offer isn't going to last long.

I'd just like to be able to breathe normally again. After 6 days of being sick and 4 days on Tamiflu, is that so much to ask? And would somebody please remove the elephant that's sitting on my chest? 'Cause he's not welcome here anymore.

Alright-- I'm done whining. I know there are millions of people who are way sicker than we are, and I'm extremely grateful that it didn't hit us any harder than it did. But if you have the chance to get vaccinated? I'd highly recommend it.