Snow.

Sorry I was gone so long! Holidays, a new baby being born, visitors... we've been busy!

My friend's baby was born completely healthy. This is Lily.

I was there when she was born, taking photos. I stayed over there for a few days to help out, and I'll probably be heading back that way again soon. But the strange thing? I thought I'd see this new pink baby and it'd make my ovaries ache for more. But it didn't. It just made me appreciate how much Oliver can do. I like that he sleeps (usually) all night long. I like that I can leave him in the care of others. I like that I don't have to carry him everywhere. I like that he can (sort of) tell me what he wants. It's nice that takes care of himself when I don't feel like watching him.

Jared's mom came to visit Oliver and have Thanksgiving dinner with us. We kept it low key and made a Honey Baked Ham. The ham was good and it was nice that we didn't have to travel and wrangle Oliver in a strange place. The following Saturday we visited with my brother and sister and parents. We played a lot of Kinect. It was fun! Haven't had fun at a family gathering for some time.

Other news... Hmm... We got a new TV stand that isn't a death threat to our baby. There was a huge ice storm that tried to kill us all on the way home from dinner one night. Some of our Christmas cards are trickling to our friends and family. I'm starting to paint our living room. Oliver is back to his 100% and he's been sleeping through the night and being his cheerful self.

But the big news? Oliver loves the snow. He loves to go outside. (After a half hour of putting on layers and coats and mittens and a hat.) We walk outside and he yells, "Brr!" Then he flounders around in the snow and pats it with his mittened flipper hands. It isn't like he can build snowmen or throw snowballs, but for some reason the snow delights him anyway.

Dance off.

So!

I've been away because I've been terribly busy and stressed out. My friend is most likely to be induced tomorrow evening. Ive been back and forth visiting her and very busy taking care of little Doobie. Since he's gotten sick, he's slept through the night ONCE. He woke up at least once every night, but on some nights four or 5 times. And the worst part? He didn't want to go back to bed. He didn't want me to change him. He didn't want me to hold him. He wanted to scream.

My patience and energy was at an all time low.

There were so many times when I wanted to scream at him. I didn't, but I feel incredibly guilty because I even thought about screaming. I wanted him to go away for a while because I was WAY too tired to be dealing with that.

I couldn't grocery shop without him screaming and climbing out of the cart. I couldn't take him on walks without him crawling out of the stroller. Foods he typically loves were thrown on the floor. He hit me. He bit me. He kicked and thrashed every time I tried to change his diaper.

Since being sick, he was a royal pain. I called him a jerk. I felt terrible, but it still happened. He hit me and I told him he was a jerk. It made me cry. Jared was incredibly busy with projects in school, so from morning to night I was with that volatile, cranky baby.

Normally when I start to get tired, I let my parents babysit for a while. This was my plan last Friday, but when I buckled him into the car? He screamed. I pulled out into traffic? Still screaming. I offered him toys? Screamed. After 15 minutes of screaming, I just couldn't take it anymore and I turned around and went home. I don't think I would've made it the full 45 minutes to my parents' house without completely flipping on him.

I dropped him in the bath (a crowd pleaser here) and waited for 7 o clock to come around so I could put him into bed. I put him down early - at six - and sat down just completely feeling like a failure. Jared was at school without his phone. There was no food, since I couldn't grocery shop with him. There was no laundry, since I didn't get it done. The house was generally a big mess.

I called my (almost) mother-in-law and cried about my baby being a jerk.

Finally Jared came home and we ordered in pizza. Since it was a weekend, I thought I'd be able to drop him off at my parents' the next morning, but then... Bam! Snowstorm. 7 inches of snow. We were stuck with cranky pants face for the weekend.

His attitude improved on Saturday and Sunday, and by the time my parents came and picked him up on Monday I would've rated him at a 2 on the scale between "Grumpy" and "I'm ready to start strangling kittens with my bare hands."

He even slept through the night last night, so maybe, just maybe, he's all done with this grumpy sicky phase.

Tonight I got home from my parents' and put Oliver to bed. He went down without any fight.  Then I turned on music and had my own personal dance off. It was kind of fun, and I feel better.

(And, by the way, I am a terrible dancer.)

Optimism.

I want to be like this lady.  On the 26th, she will turn 107 years old, making her the oldest surviving victim of the Holocaust.

I am a huge believer that happiness is a choice, even if I sometimes forget that. Alice is a great reminder.



I have every reason in the world to be happy, so I will be.

(This is the trailer for a documentary about Alice, titled Alice Dancing Under the Gallows which, I think, will be released next year.)

Pneumonia.

Oliver has pneumonia. He had a runny nose for probably a week, and then Sunday I finally said, "Well, looks like you're all better!"

Turns out, he wasn't.

He woke up in the middle of the night with a raging fever. As the day wore on and his fever got higher and he got tireder, we started thinking something was wrong. Then he started grunting with each breath, so we took him into the ER. They did chest xrays, and declared he has pneumonia.

He went from this:

To this:

In less than 24 hours.

For most of today he seemed better, but as the day wore on his fever started creeping back. For the most part, though, he was in a decent mood. Decent enough, anyway, to watch The Cat in the Hat from his favorite spot up on the couch.

TV induced zombie stare.

He even let me hold him on my lap while we watched an hour of TV. What a nice boy.