henry eats

Over the weekend, Henry resumed eating with gusto. We went from drinking only milk and Pedialyte to eating grown up people food.

Prior to our ill-fated journey to Arizona, Henry had reached a point where he no longer wanted baby food (or, as The Mistah and I call it, B. A. B. Y. Food) or anything out of a jar. He wanted grilled cheese, ravioli, grapes, pasta and red sauce, and meatballs. When he got sick, he wanted no food or only a few goldfish or a spoonful or two of applesauce. It took a while--a little more than a full week--to get back on the food train.

The Mistah and I took Henry out to his grandparent's house for the Easter weekend. On Saturday night, we ordered take out from Outback. Henry enjoyed some grilled chicken and sweet potato and some of the yummy pumpernickel bread. For breakfast on Sunday morning, he had a scrambled egg and 12-grain toast with some chunky applesauce.


For lunch, Henry had some chicken and sweet potato leftovers. Here he is in his awesome Me Too seat--we used one of these while visiting with friends in Vermont over the New Year. When Henry's Godmama asked what we'd like for him for his birthday, we asked for this seat. It's genius. It has vice-like clamps that attach to just about any steady surface, and it folds up flat so it's easy to put in a large diaper bag or backpack. And Henry LOVES it! He loves to swing his legs and he loves to be at the table with us when we eat.

On Sunday, we pulled up his highchair to the table for Easter dinner (we couldn't use the Me Too because the leaves of the table, safety first!). Man, he was so happy. He ate everything we ate--turkey, mashed potatoes, asparagus, broccoli, rolls, even gravy (yes, it sounds more like Thanksgiving dinner--but since we had a crappy Thanksgiving, we recreated it for Easter--and it was DELICIOUS!). Henry also started using a fork and spoon himself over the weekend. He's still mastering his skills, but we are LOVING having him at the table with us.

Since we've been home, The Mistah surprised me by going to pick up the shelving unit I've been coveting from IKEA. He had planned to take his mother's truck on Monday and drive out to New Jersey to pick up the shelving units. It's a long drive from Long Island to Brooklyn then out to NJ, back to Brooklyn, and then back to Long Island. In a strange twist of fate, The Mistah's sister missed her connecting flight at JFK and there wasn't another flight until Monday afternoon--so The Mistah went to pick up Aunt K and took her back to our place in Brooklyn. On Monday morning, they drove out to IKEA and picked up the shelves then took Aunt K back to JFK to get her flight back to Vermont, then went back to Long Island to pick up Henry and I. A long day for him, indeed.

When we arrived home Monday night, look what I found in my living/dining room:

The Mistah and Aunt K built the shelves! And since Aunt K runs a childcare center/school, she had a great time arranging the shelves. It's kind of hard to see in the picture, but there are 4 bins that slide out of the squares--so we filled them with musical toys, stuffed animals, whatever. Henry has always loved to go to the toy boxes and book shelves to pick out his own toys to play with and books to read, this just keeps it all a bit more organized.

We also cleared out the final corner of our former dining room and assembled another set of shelves to store some of our CDs and The Mistah's school books/scholarly tomes. This freed up even more space for us to finally set up our dining table and make a place for Henry at the dinner table. So far, we've eaten all our meals at the table with Henry and we all love it so much, but perhaps not as much as Henry!

This morning, The Mistah had to go back to school following his long Spring break. It's cold and gray and pouring rain today, so Henry and I are having a predominantly pajama day. He slept in a bit this morning, I woke him up at 9:00am and we had a nice breakfast. Henry had pancakes and yogurt with fresh fruit, I ate some oatmeal that Henry kept shouting at--he loves him some oatmeal, especially out of Mommy's bowl.

He's napping now and I've got some chicken soup made from leftovers of the roasted chicken we made on Tuesday night. I can smell the garlic and vegetables and I'm so, so hungry! I'm hoping the rain clears up--or at least slows down. We have our first class of the new semester of Music Together and Henry will be so excited to see his teacher, Donetta!

*****

Edited to note that last night, Henry ate sushi! He really loved the tofu squares of the miso soup, was a little befuddled by the seaweed, but especially loved the salmon sashimi!

home again, home again

We're home! WOOT!

I'm happy to report that our journey home was totally nondescript. Aside from a 2 hour delay, everything was just fine. Henry slept most of the way. Poor little feller.

We saw our regular pediatrician yesterday and Henry looks good. The croupy, barky cough is gone, as are the terrifyingly high temperatures. Now it's just like a cold.

And a powerful cold at that. In continuing our Typhoid Mary streak, Henry left both my mother and brother with parting gifts: horrible head colds. I'm knocking on wood, but so far I've only got a thick head of congestion. I suppose it'll all let go and I'll miserable in a day or two. And I can't say I'll be surprised. This past week has really been High Stress, to say the least.

Also? When we landed at JFK at 10:30pm on Wednesday, I received a text message from my brother that the nurses at his job were taking him to the emergency room. Jeff had spiked a fever on Sunday night and had complained of pain around his kidneys. I guess on Wednesday morning, he hadn't peed in 72 hours, despite gallons of Gatorade. Because he works in home health care, he was able to just go to the office and receive a few rounds of IV fluids. And still no pee.

Ultimately, he was diagnosed with prostatitis. He's home now, and he's fine following some steroids and antibiotics.

But Jumping Jack Flash, when will this string of bad things end?

Here are some photos from the few moments of normality:
Grandma Lady, Henry, and I went for a hike on Friday. This was the first day of Henry being really shouty and cranky and clingy. But he LOVED to be in the pack. And he LOVED taking Mommy's hat off!

We knew Henry was in a pocket of feeling good when he went to play "Door." He loved opening and closing all the doors in the house!

On Tuesday, Henry's fever was down and the cough had eased up a little. He was eager to get some playing and moving in. My mom borrowed this wagon from a neighbor and Henry had a blast being toted around the back patio.

we're leaving on a jet plane

doing some serious knocking on wood right now, but unless something goes *drastically* wrong tonight, Henry and I are on a flight home to New York tomorrow morning.

I'm DELIGHTED to report that we had glimmers of the Good Ole' Henry Bear today. He was very sleepy, but the barky cough, wheeze, and fever were all gone today. After his dose of oral steroids this morning, he seemed to perk up. Although he didn't charm the old ladies on his walk with Grandma Lady this morning--flatly refusing to hand out any smiles or play the "How Big is Henry Today" game--but he did manage to grin enough to show his bottom AND top teeth this afternoon when Grandma Lady's friend J came to visit. That and he tried to eat the rocks in my mom's front yard.

He's quite sleepy--he took between 4 and 5 lengthy naps today--and prefers to be held by Mommy. Not so much in the eating department, either. He managed to eat some banana and a few Goldfish and some Cheerios, but I got the Shaking of the Head and the NoNoNoNo hand wave when I dared to present him with his beloved raviolis or applesauce.

It'll be great to be home with The Mistah tomorrow. I know how much I've missed him this week--how much I've wanted to just give him a hug. I can't imagine what it's been like for him to have his family gone.

Poppa, we're coming home!

croupy mc croupenstein

Yup. We are The House of Croup.

Henry didn't show any signs of improvement yesterday. His fever wasn't managed by the alternate Tylenol/Motrin schedule, so we pitched the Tylenol after his fever went back to 103.9 an hour and a half after his dose. Fuck the Tylenol right in the ear.

Henry was listless and lethargic all day. Spent close to 6 hours asleep/unconscious in my arms on the couch. Fortunately, he would take the PediaLyte and continued to have wet diapers on a regular basis, so I was happy to rule out concerns of dehydration. In the early afternoon, both Grandma Lady and I took turns counting breaths. Our ER discharge papers indicated that more than 30 breaths per second in a child over 3 months old would be cause to return to the hospital, added with the continued high fever (102 or above for more than 3 days), unusual fussiness and extreme lethargy.

At 6:00pm our bags were packed and I'd spoken with the triage nurse who'd advised us to return to the hospital so Henry could be reevaluated. Grandma Lady and I decided to go one more round of Motrin and recheck the temp in an hour. Thankfully, the temperature dropped down to 101 and because the cough was so awful I thought it wouldn't hurt to run a very hot shower and sit in the steamy bathroom for a bit.

We spent 10 minutes in the steam and then I dressed Henry in his jammies. He seemed so much better. He was awake. He was crawling. He was playing. He was presenting me with a copy of Goodnight Moon, as if to say "Here, Ma. Read!"

And the angels sang.

Until aroun 9:00am this morning. When the crankiness and lethargy set in. Again. His fever was back up. I spoke with our pediatrician back in Brooklyn and she advised us to take him down to Phoenix to the Children's Hospital. She felt strongly that something was wrong and something was causing this fever to not let go, and the lethary was so clearly NOT at all like my little boy (Take THAT nasty Dr who could only advise she couldn't do anything over the phone!). I mentioned that my mother had received a recommendation for a local pediatrician and our doc said to call her. Immediately.

Their office was closed for lunch. WHAT? I hope they had a nice lunch as my baby lay in my arms burning up. But we got through and were able to bring him in right away. Once in the examing room, Nurse Delightful took Henry's temperature. 104.9 degrees. Dr. Cheerful and Concerned was in shortly thereafter. Henry was asleep in my arms and when the Dr. C&C came in she sat in front of us and Henry stirred, let out the hoarse, husky hack of a cough and moan--he didn't even have the energy to cry. She hadn't even touched him before she said, "Ah. Croup."

From there we had an epinephrin breathing treatment to help ease the bronchial and laryngyl (sp? anyone?) stuffs. He had a steroid shot, Decadon (which I then cleverly relayed to The Mistah back home in Brooklyn as a "dodecahedron shot." "Ah, geometric medicine, I see!" he replied). Following both the initial breathing treatment and the injection, she decided to go ahead and administer another breathing treatment.

Henry's eyes opened, he tapped his hands against the wall and the chair and he was, for the first time in 3 days, alert. WOOT!

And then he peed on me. Again. (Steroid shots can increase the frequency of urination. Who knew?)

So we're home at Grandma Lady's house. Henry continues to be clingy and needy and only happy in his mommy's arms. One of the bits of advice given to us by Nurse Delightful and Dr. C&C was that crying can constrict the laryngyl bits and, basically, whatever he wants he should get. Which in the house of h means B.I.N.K.Y.

Tomorrow we hope to see a marked improvement in his cough and his disposition. We'll evaluate the state of things tomorrow afternoon before making a decision about whether we travel home to New York on Wednesday. My personal feeling is that I want one "normal" day before putting him back on the plane.

Also tomorrow, The Mistah is taking our cat Ella to the vet. She's doing very poorly. Pretty classic kidney failure. We've been having some behaviorial issues with her since Henry's been mobile. She's scratched him several times--including on the face, just below the eye--and hisses at him if he comes too close to her. We took her in about a month ago for bloodwork and inquiry regarding declawin. Her bloodwork came back with "high kidney function" and an explanation that this typically isn't seen in cats until they're much older. Ella and Ralphie are sisters, littermates. They are 8 years old. We treated her with some behaviorial therapy, including a tranqualizer that didn't do much for her aggression towards Henry. But we've noticed a marked loss in weight and crying, excessive drinking of water--I've caught her in the kitchen sink, the bathroom tub, the toilet, my water glasses, and Henry's sippy cups (for a while there, Ella was the only one using a sippy cup). So to add to our Extra Shitty Week (The Mistah looses his job, our baby boy is melting with fever and croup, now it would seem that our cat goes to the vet tomorrow and I'd venture to say, she won't come back.

FEH.

Aren't we just little rays of sunshine?

because no vacation is complete without a visit to the ER

Henry was Mr Super Duper Cranky Banana Pants yesterday. EXTRA to the Nth degree. Which, I hate to jinx it, but it's pretty unusual for him to be shouty and clingy and Big, Fat Tears. But, he was.

Last night as I was putting him to bed, I took Henry's temperature because he seemed fairly warm to me. We'd been horsing around and just had a bath, but he seemed warm. We'd gone hiking in the afternoon and taken a nice long drive through the red rocks of Sedona, but still: the shouting and whining. But noticeably: No Ear Pulling (YAY!). Anyhoo, I took his temp and lo, there it was. 102.2 temp. After Motrin.

I put him to bed and my mother assured me that he'd be fine and I ought to go back to Sedona with my brother to have a beer at the brewery. It would be fine.

Jeff and I drove out to the brewery and had a couple beers. The band was decent, if the singer would've shut up. These young kids just took themselves SO SERIOUSLY, it was almost comical. But I'm a mom and I'm lame and it was barely even 10:00 when I asked if we could head back. It had been a long day with lots of screaming and crying. My head hurt.

This morning, Henry's temp was at around 101.5. He chugged a 9 oz bottle and worked at his whole wheat pancaked and yogurt. I noticed he had a bit of a chesty cough. But he seemed in much better spirits. He had a few coughs and then: The Puke. All over the place. Poor guy. The cough concerned me more than the puke, because when he's had a cold he's often been overwhelmed by the mucus--especially in the morning--and breakfast is frequently tossed.

I went out for PediaLyte.

I came home and he was sleeping in Grandma Lady's arms. He woke up shortly thereafter, had 6oz of PediaLyte, neat. We played a bit and then he went down for an hour nap (so, 2 naps before 10am. Odd). I called our pediatrician back home and spoke to the Evil Nasty New Doctor in the Practice whom I detest and avoid at all costs (just the bitchy new doc, all the others are GREAT!). She said, "Well, you know, I DON'T treat over the phone." And let me tell you, if I could have reached through that phone, I would have bitch slapped her so hard. No shit Sherlock, but can you advise what I might want to look for?
We ended up speaking with the On Call nurse at a local pediatric practice that my mother had asked her PCP for a recommendation for. Nurse Susan was great! Asked a lot of questions and advised on further symptoms and when to consider Urgent Care of Emergent Care.

The rest of the afternoon was okay. Henry was still in MUCH better spirits and the temp hovered around 101 with Motrin every 6 hours. At dinner he was a little cranky and he was coughing more. We were having some coffee and the we heard the cough and The Wheeze. I looked at my mother, she at me, and we SPLIT.

Two hours in the waiting room of the local hospital, Henry slept on me. Which NEVER EVER happens. He was listless and burning up. Once we were brought in, it was as if on cue, Henry barfed all over the place. We were treated immediately. Henry's temp was 103.7 and he was lethargic. We had chest X-rays and an albuterol treatment and Henry continued to be a champ. The doctor suspected something called "Slapped Cheek Syndrome" that generally presents with a high fever followed by the cough and the very very rosy cheeks. We had an RSV swab and we waited a bit.

Fortunately the RSV test was negative and the Tylenol suppositories began to bring his temp down, too. Within two hours of being seen, his temp went down to around 100. And his cheeks weren't as red, either.

The diagnosis? A viral thing. Let it run it's course.

But I feel like we did the right thing bringing him to the ER. The fever was so high and the wheezing was scary. I was second guessing myself about being the mom who brought her kid with a chest cold to the ER...but the puking and the fever only reassured me.

Henry's sleeping in his crib now, with his choice of not one but two binkies and his Cowie to keep him safe. Momma's sleeping in the room tonight, too. At 4:00am, I'll get up to check on him, change his diaper, check his temp, and give him another dose of Tylenol.

So, this is our vacation. Pajama Days in Arizona. Truthfully, though, if we had to take Henry to the ER, I'd much rather have to do it out in the Arizona countryside than in Brooklyn. Yo.

Also: Shana, I think we'll miss you this visit, sorry!

I apologize for the shitty spelling and grammar. It's been a long day and I'm having a glass of wine, thanks very much.

greetings from (not so sunny) arizona!

Bear with me in the lack of pictures, hyperlinks, and other fanciful post goodies. I am NOT a Mac person. How my 70-year-old mother negotiates this business, I know not. I used to be a Mac girl. On my Apple II C back in the 80s. And my very first Mac--that big box of a machine with the floppy disk drive right in it? Yeah. I think you'd be surprised to know that I didn't send or receive my first email until 1999. Yes, it's true. When The Mistah and I got married, we received a fancy pants Gateway PC and I got my very first email account. And oh lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz, that was the beginning of the end, some might say. Anyhoo:

Henry and I arrived in Phoenix yesterday afternoon. The flight was fine--Henry was a total champ. It was a very long day for the both of us--up and out of the house by 5:30am and on the plane by 8:00am. Arrived in Arizona around 11:00am local time. After loading all of our gear up (and boy howdy, there was a lot: car seat in the car seat back pack [seriously? best $40 i've ever spent! if you're traveling with an infant/toddler/car seat kid? highly recommended!], carry on, food, drinks [his and mine], my purse, his blanket, our little Starbucks bag containing my Curious George and his Cowie).

Henry did really well on the plane, he was very interested in all the people and all the new things to look out and the view of the wings from his seat. We flew JetBlue, so we had lots of leg room and the TVs, which I kept dimmed or on the LiveMap station. The plane was full of kids traveling and I'm so proud to say that Henry received many compliments from our neighboring passengers on what a good boy he was. I had a splitting headache, for sure, due to the three young children behind us that did not fare so well--poor kids cried for FOUR HOURS CONTINUOUSLY. Of course, I had armed my carry-on with every possible medicine possible and was more than happy to offer some Motirn to 13-month-old Madison who's ears were sore from the take off. Poor thing. I felt so bad for her mother, too.

Previous to having my own child, I was totally that woman on the plane shooting daggers to the parents of the screaming child, "For goodness sakes, can you please shut that child up already?" Now, I just feel so badly for the parents because I know their stress level must be through the roof. I hate hearing them apologize to the other passengers--I just think that no mother should ever have to apologize for their upset child. I know this is true, but I feel the need/instinct/knee-jerk reaction too when Henry goes all shouty.

Grandma Lady met us at the airport and Henry was happy to lead her around by the hands and show off his practice walking. I had a leisurely pee break and then made a beeline to the Starbucks. Momma needed a little pick-me-up, fo' sho'. The drive north to the Sedona area was nice and Henry got a nice nap in, too. The weather, however, sucks. Yesterday we drove through snow (SNOW!) on the way to Grandma Lady's house. Today was a bit warmer, but still unseasonably cool.
Henry's having a great time crawling and cruising all over the place. There are so many rooms to explore--such a big change from our Brooklyn house. He's crawling under the desk and through the legs of the chairs and up and down and up and down the hallway.

He woke up at 4:00am this morning (GAH!) and we had breakfast and played with the toys of my childhood. The blocks that my grandparents brought to my mother when they came to visit for their anniversary, I believe shortly after my parents split up. I don't actually remember playing with these blocks as a child, but I always remember them in the basement of our house. Henry also had a great time playing with the Fisher Price Little People from my childhood. Vintage, now. And the best part is that they aren't even plastic. They're WOODEN. And still small enough to *almost* be a choking hazard.
We got some extra craptacular news when we got to Grandma Lady's yesterday afternoon. The Mistah had left a message on my voicemail to call home--the tone was definitely indicative of not good news and urgency. My heart sank, I thought someone had died.

No one died, but The Mistah was informed yesterday that he would not be asked back to teach at his school come next fall, and would he please tender his resignation tomorrow and they'll be pleased to give him a positive recommendation? WHAT? This came as a total shock to him, as his year's worth of observations and meetings with his superiours have provided postive feedback and assurances that criticism is given merely to improve upon his skills. The current principal announced his retirement, as did his dean of social studies (I don't know if that's the right title, I get confused by the heirarchy and beauracracy). To us, it seems that the incoming principal has an agenda and likely another person she intends to put in his (fairly prestigious) position. Because The Mistah is not tenured in this position, he has no recourse or much option to pursue within the union. Basically, he was told to quit or he would not receive a favorable recommendation.

This sucks.

And I cannot even begin to express how awful it felt to be so far away from him when he was going through this. I just ached to think of him home, alone. And to think that he gave up his tenured positon for this current spot--the Great Job in the Promised Land with Students Who *gasp* Wanted to Learn. Only to get fucked over in some political bullshit. Gah.

As much as yesterday sucked for our family, I did receive a wonderful compliment from Canape. She's given me a Thinking Blogger award. Blushing. If I could figure out how to insert the button, I would. I'm working off of my mother's Mac and I haven't the first clue on how to insert hyperlinks and the whatnot. When I get home, I promise to tidy this up. But here's the Thinking Blog deal: http://www.thethinkingblog.com/2007/02/thinking-blogger-awards_11.html. So it's a compliment AND a meme!

I'm 200% on my memes, which is highly uncharacteristic of me. Because you know: I lurves me some memes. I still owe y'all (both of you!) the Music Meme via Jezer. But I've also been tagged by Leah over at Raising a Little Kane for a poetry-type meme. Again: promises to tidy up links and the goodies herein next week when I can work off of my beloved Firefox--and not this here Safari.

more bullets and two promises

• Three rounds of antibiotics later, we're hopeful that Henry's 4-week-long ear infection has cleared up. The Omnicef didn't provide any relief and last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday Henry had antibiotic injections (no fun for Henry--it's such a thick needle and thick serum that the injection is slow and painful; also not so much fun for Mommy).
• In honor of beginning labor one year ago tonight, I shaved my legs. For the first time since August.
• Henry turns one tomorrow (Promise Number One: Extra! Special! Big! Boy! Birthday! Post! I've been working on a montage ala Kristin, but OneTrueMedia isn't giving me any love and keeps crashing my laptop. So...)
• Henry's Uncle Jeff arrives tomorrow to help celebrate!
• Henry's having a BIG first birthday party on Saturday out on Long Island. Yesterday, Henry's Gigi and I went shopping for some decorations and party favors. We have 75 guests--and 22 of them are kids. YAY! Lots of family and friends and we're really looking forward to it. Instead of goodie bags, we bought beach pails with shovels and are filling them with bubbles, moon sand, rubber duckies, and snack-pack sized Goldfish.
• Henry and I are getting ready to fly out to Arizona next week. I'm trying to figure out the logistics of getting Henry, our luggage, the stroller, the car seat, the diaper bag, and the hiking pack on to the plane and to Arizona. I did buy a cool pack for lugging the beast of a car seat around the airport. And I may ship the backpack, or send it back to AZ with my brother
• I got tagged by Jezer for a meme so up my alley it's not even funny. I Can.Not.Wait to get to it. Maybe tonight? We'll see. I've got a lot to do today, including baking my baby boy his very first birthday cake. GAH! (On the birthday, not the cake baking). So, that's Promise Number Two: Music Meme!
  

enjoying the [semi-] silence

First, thanks to you all for all of your uber-supportive comments.

I'm pleased to report that the screaming has ceased and it would appear that Henry is on the up-and-up.
Can I get an Amen?!

We'll have an ear check on the 27th, just before we fly to Arizona to visit Henry's Grandma Lady.

We've also had a bit of reprieve from the "winter." Although, it's been quite a mild winter, it's still been chilly enough to incite mutterings from this particular peanut gallery. I, for one, am very ready for Spring.

On Friday, we had some snow. Not much at all, but enough to make it white for about an hour. Henry's great grandparents bought him a little sled earlier in the season--thereby ensuring we'd see no snow. I wanted at least ONE photo of him "sledding" and I waited and waited. Finally, on Friday, I loaded Henry up in his winter warmth gear and strapped him to the sled--dragging him across the pavement to the one tiny 4' x 4' patch of snow on the sidewalk to take some pictures. He seemed fairly amused by the ride, I only wish it had been LOTS more snow for him.

Yesterday it was 55 degrees and sunny (global warming, anyone?). And we took a family afternoon to the park to accomplish some much needed swinging and vitamin D absorption. Oh how I missed that squeal of pure joy when Henry went floating to and fro in the swing. Wheeee!

It was also Henry's Nonno's birthday. We spent nearly 3 hours at our favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant to celebrate Nonno's 60th birthday. Henry was such a good boy, and truly an active participant in the whole dinner. He listened to the specials and made some noise to indicate his preferences. He enjoyed not only applesauce and goldfish, but ziti with red sauce, some eggplant rollatini, some chicken, some salmon, and even ice cream at the end of the meal. On our way out, we received compliments on how well-behaved our little man was--which makes us feel great. Henry's Poppa and I love to eat out--it's such a large part of who we are and what we do as a family, I'm so happy to have Henry be a part of it!

It was time for Henry to get his second haircut. Instead of making the trip out to Long Island to the family barber, I took Henry to a local kids' salon. Henry was confused, to say the least. But he was a sport and sat relatively quietly in his little car. When we walked in, the lady asked us to pick out a video. I didn't really know what to say--but the videos probably wouldn't hold Henry's attention too much. We rarely watch television with him (his Poppa and I make up for it with our TV habits, though!), so I guessed at Elmo. He's red. He has a high pitched voice... Henry was barely interested at all. But he sat for the cut, which was the speediest thing ever. We were in and out in less than 15 minutes and $23 less in my wallet.

That night we got some sad news. Henry's great grandfather, PopPop, stopped by Santi's shop to drop off the photos from Henry's very first haircut only to learn that Santi passed away a few weeks ago. We are so sad to learn of his passing, but so thankful that we were able to have the wonderful experience of Santi cutting 4 generations of our family's hair.

Rest in peace, Santi.

the screaming, oh my god the screaming

Thursday was a busy day, as they usually are. Henry slept until nearly 8:00 am (!!!) and we got our day going with some oatmeal and fresh peaches, Henry's new favorite fruit. And we played and read books and rolled the nubby ball back and forth for a while. It was a long late morning nap, and I could tell his ears were bothering him still.

Henry's temperature has been up all week, around 101.7-9 before the Motrin/Tylenol dosing (I've been trying to alternate, but we found Motrin to be more effective). He's basically been continually dosed since Monday night when we got the right ear infection diagnosis. Henry's been fussy and unhappy since early Wednesday morning. Poor little dude.

We went to our Music Together, where Henry sat right in front of the teacher, totally slackjawed as she played the autoharp. During the Hello Song, I glanced over at another child and turned back to Henry...who was standing up on his own. Without holding on to anything. Standing about 6 inches from the teacher, and just looking around from his new vantage point. It was a great class and we were in a hurry to go down the Avenue to check out a new daycare center that's just been opened by a friend of a friend.

As Henry's getting older and I wonder if it wouldn't be good for him to go to "school" a couple mornings a week. He gets the benefit of being in a more structured environment, and I get the time alone to work or do the shopping or clean the house. Ideally, I'd like to have designated time set aside each week that I can dedicate to my freelance business and he could have a more formal, more structured socialization.

At any rate, we went to visit the new center and Henry played with the boys and girls and I watched the interaction of the staff with the kids. It's a small, private center and there were only 4 other children there with an age range of 6 months to 2 years. I've never been to visit anyplace like this before, so I'm not too sure what to look for (other Daycare Moms out there have suggestions?).

After our visit I thought we would just stop by the Mommy/Baby Happy Hour and say hello, as we haven't been in several weeks due to scheduling. As I was pulling Henry from his stroller, I noticed his eye was a little goopy. Goopy in the green goo kind of way.

I packed him right back up and walked two blocks back to the pediatrician's office. We were seen in less than 5 minutes.

Henry's now got an infection in both ears, a change from Monday. And conjunctivitis. Clearly the antibiotic he's been on since Monday night hasn't been working for him. We switched from amoxicillan to Omnicet and now have eye drops we have to use 3 times a day. And I've got pink eye, too. Woot!

It's just so awful to see your child--your baby!--in so much pain. By the time we got home last night, we'd been out of the house since noon and Henry'd only had one bottle all day. He's resumed his water/juice/sippy cup standoff and only had one damp diaper yesterday. Gah. He wasn't interested in dinner, but managed a few raviolis. I gave him his new antibiotic, which he spat out, his Motrin was also spat out, as was the Benadryl. After negotiating and struggling to get the medicine in, Henry only had an ounce of cow's milk/Pedialyte and was crying so hard he sounded like he was choking.

I just held him and rocked him and sang to him. I just couldn't think of anything I could do to actually take the pain away from him. He pounds the sides of head because his ears hurt him so much. Ach. Heartbreaking. He fell asleep in my arms and after a while I put him in his crib, went and got a beer from the fridge, sat on the couch and cried. The Mistah was out at an Islanders game with his father and some family friends, so it was just Henry and I and, finally, the quiet.

So here we are. It's Monday again. We're in Day 7 of the ear infection that won't quit. Henry's been on Omnicet, the second antibiotic, since Thursday and he basically spent the weekend screaming and hitting his ears. It's awful to watch. Thankfully, The Mistah stayed home on Friday to help--but the day was surprisingly not as bad as I had anticipated.

I fully expected Henry to wake up with his eyes glued shut with pink eye goop. But, just one dose of the Vigamox, and his eyes were clear. Miracle in a bottle, I say.

Looking back, while holding my sick, upset, and exhausted baby in the rocking chair on Thursday night, I think I *finally* realized that I am Henry's Mommy. I mean, it's only been 11 1/2 months. But these are the moments that make us figure this stuff out. I've had these moments over the past year, but this particular moment was significantly profound. What I mean to say is, I had no doubt left in my mind that I am fully capable of taking care of and loving until my heart explodes this little baby. This little boy!

Of course, yesterday, I hit my limit. My level of frustration and anger and upsetness just went through the roof. I couldn't take another moment of the crying. THE SCREAMING. What kind of mother am I if I shout back at my sick child? He's 11 months old, he doesn't understand reason, he doesn't understand "shhhh." I picked him up and put him in his crib and shut myself in the bathroom with the sink and the shower running so I couldn't hear his screaming.

I see the mothers who seem to have it together--calm, cool, collected. The Perfect Mom. I wonder? Do they lock themselves in the bathroom? Do they lose their cool and yell at their children?