Sam > His Parents

Sam loves to draw out his bedtime routine. I mean, 

d   r    a     w    i    t    o   u    t. 

So, it's especially annoying when, every night, Sam pops right out of his room after we finally get him down. What do we do? We put him down again. And again. And again. And again.

Tonight during pop-out gazillion when Sam walked into the family room, I sat down, let out a sigh, and said, "Well, Sam. I'm done putting you to bed. You might as well get comfortable and play with your trains." (You should know that this was not my greatest parenting moment -- and also not my worst.) Sam looked at me, squished his face, and said, "But I want to go to bed." That sure was news to me, people. So we trotted off to bed for put down gazillion + 1. 

If bedtime is a competition (and it sure feels like one), Sam is winning. 

Excitement + Late Night = No Inhibitions

You know how there's always one kid who gets a little too close to the performers at a kid's concert and everyone wonders how far that kid will go until he's actually standing on the stage with the musicians? Apparently that was my son last night. Becky, the fiddle player, was very nice and took Sam's hand to bring him back to his dad. When Sam told me about it later, he acted like it was no big deal. Like he and Becky go way back.

I + F ≠ ODB

I'm struggling with some mastitis again, and the Infection along with the Fever has me sitting at home tonight while Dave and Sam enjoy the Okee Dokee Brothers at the Minnesota Zoo. Sam has been looking forward to his first late night event for quite some time. He absolutely loves the ODB (often I have to pretend to be in the band with him and we put on shows in our living room). They're quite good, actually, and I'm sad to miss the show. You should check them out if you'd like. Me? I'm heading to bed.

40M + 3E ≠ Productivity

Eloise slept for only 40 minutes and during that time Sam successfully escaped his bedroom 3 times. This does not make for a productive nap time for me. #thebestlaidplans

4SB + 2DMB = 1BP

I'm sitting here looking at four spider bites on my abdomen and approximately two dozen mosquito bites in various places on my body. The mosquito bites are annoying and the spider bites unsettling. I think we might have a spider or two in the bed with us. The funny thing is I was just telling Cassie the other day that I liked the spiders (she killed nine one evening) because they ate the other bugs. I'm retracting that. The spiders are not welcome here any more.

(p.s. I realized that if I didn't just write something, anything! tonight before bed all would be lost on this blogging challenge. One blog post at a time.)

A + L = MM

New Blogging Challenge!

I have long thought that a new challenge would be the only way to really get me blogging again. And here's the test. As I understand it, we have to frame our posts around some sort of equation. I think it's going to be hard. And worth it. Here goes.

Allergies + Lactation = Miserable Mama

All of the pieces were in place for a lovely weekend at the cabin. Great company, good food, beautiful weather, happy children, and tree pollen. Oh, wait. Tree pollen makes for a terrible time at the cabin when the only drugs available are not compatible with breastfeeding. I have been sneezing pretty much nonstop for three days. And if I could have, I would have scratched my eyes out a millions times.

So, lesson learned. Find the drugs that work with nursing and take them in abundance.

Just Like That

Eloise is no longer six weeks old. She is, in fact, 4 months old and, can I just say, the sweetest little thing that ever existed. 

Here's proof:

Some days, when the stars align, both kids actually sleep at the same time. This is rare and a dream come true. And it's happening right now. 

Quick! I'm going to open a book before it all goes away. 

Sixth Week Adventure

Eloise gave us a bit of a scare yesterday. I awoke to the sound of her choking at about 6:15 and found her struggling to expel a large amount of mucous. When turning her upside down and patting her back didn't work, I ran her to the basement where Dave was getting ready for an early work meeting. He took over the effort to clear out the mucous, but it just kept coming. We retrieved the bulb syringe and spent the next 20 minutes battling to keep her clear and breathing. While I ran to wake Sam and get him ready for what looked like a trip to the ER, Eloise decided to turn a shade of blue and Dave decided to call 911.

Before I knew it, we had five of St. Paul's finest from Fire and Rescue standing in our kitchen. By this time Eloise had stopped choking and was breathing fine. She was lethargic, pale, and clammy but breathing fine. I took the ride with her in the ambulance and by 7:00 she was getting checked out by the ER doc. After an examination, RSV test, and EKG, he declared her in generally good health despite a small cold that seemed to have caused the extra mucous and the choking. We were home by 9:30 with orders to observe her and return if needed.

I am grateful for a number of things related to this event. That I heard Eloise choking and realized the sound differed from the grunting we hear throughout the night; that this happened while Dave was still home; that we knew what to do with a baby choking on mucous because we saw a nurse clear out amniotic fluid when Eloise was choking on it the day after she was born; that Sam was absolutely cooperative when it counted and was even somewhat elated to see firefighters in action and spend part of his morning in the ER where he saw doctors and nurses using the very "tools" he pretends to use every day; that none of the healthcare professionals made us feel we had made a mistake when we called on them to help an infant who turned out to be fine; that Eloise just has a small cold and this incident is most likely an isolated one; and that she's sleeping right here next to me as I write this.