What day is it?

I was going to make a remark in my post heading about swine flu, but no sense in directing a lot of sickies with fevers to my website because I CAN NOT HELP THEM.

So I have finally conceded defeat and agreed that I need to see the doctor.  Normally I would NOT go to a doctor and pay my co-pay just so they can tell me I have a virus and to take tylenol and lots of fluid.  Now I am having a lot of respiratory issues and since that is my Achilles heel I throw my hands up.  Enough already!

This is my 5th day straight with a fever and I can NOT shake it.  I started the day at 100*, took some Ibuprofen and two hours later I was 101.6*.  The employee health nurse at work sent me home and told me to quarantine myself.  She also told me to shut the door to my office and not let anyone any one in there until I  have a chance to alcohol it down.  I told her it was just the flu, not the flu.  I have absolutely NO energy.  I just lay on the couch, floor, bed and let Spud walk all over me and my mom steps over me.  speaking of which, my mom is here helping out.  Thank God.  I don’t have the energy to fix myself a meal to eat, let alone an infant.  Unfortunately I have no PTO saved up since I used every single minute of it on my maternity leave. 

Spud is doing a bit better—he still gets a low grade fever, but his behavior is still that of a sick child.  I want my happy little boy back.  I want his healthy mama back too.

Did I mention that my new 50mm arrived yesterday???  Sweet Jesus, I love this lens!

Check out the beautiful blurring in the background.

I love the expressions on their faces!

Blowing bubbles and having fun.

Spitting out dinner.  Still no appetite:(

And this is the face I have come to know the past couple of days.  My poor, poor, unhappy sick baby.  he’s taking more an extra nap or two each day also because he is still cruddy.

Ah, ah, ah Staying Alive

While a forced sick day is not supposed to be fun, I have to admit it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would.  The house is absolutely trashed and if I wasn’t so exhausted I would pick up my camera and show you, but that would just ruin the surprised look I am expecting to see when my mother opens the door to my happy hovel tomorrow.

Last night the Spud and I were laying on the couch together enjoying our shared body heat.  My son is NOT a cuddler so I am taking advantage/enjoying all the cuddle time we are getting.  He was sitting on my belly because since I was the sicker of the two I was completely horizontal.  He smiled at me and blew me a raspberry only because he is so little there was a certain amount of spittle.  So I pffftt’d him back.  He laughed and laughed and I laughed and laughed and before I knew it I was crying.  Sometimes they just sneak out of me before I can stop.  Every single day I thank God that he brought this precious little boy into my life.  Even when I am sick he makes me smile.  He makes every day more precious. 

I think the Spud is finally beginning to snap back.  He didn’t seem overly warm today so I didn’t medicate him.  I was still a bit warm, but not like yesterday.  I had to start taking ibuprofen because the aches were so bad.  I know it is highly unlikely that we have the swine flu, but I have to admit, the timing sucked.  Because I am so exhausted I had the TV on most of the day and since I don’t have cable I don’t have many options so I saw a lot of news coverage on the flu.  The flu is the flu is the flu.  Symptoms are all the same regardless of what kind you get—some are just a little worse than others and some kill.  Even though I was an anthro major many of research papers and projects involved biology.  One such project was of the flu pandemic of 1918 that wiped out 50-100 million people worldwide.  I think both flu outbreaks shared the same Type A subtype H1N1, but I refuse to look any closer than that. 

My sister emailed me to say that we needed to get over it by this weekend.  She isn’t due until the Spud’s birthday in a couple of weeks (oh crap, his birthday is in a couple of weeks and I haven’t sent out invites or planned!), but she and we (I have been right on 4 out of the last 5 due dates for friends and her first one) think she is going this weekend.  So the Spud and I have been warned—get better or miss the big event!  So, of course, I had to order the 50 mm lens that Kelli introduced me to.  Hopefully it will be here by the weekend and (thanks again for this tidbit Kelli) it was $75 less than Amazon.

Oh, and I am not trying to advertise for Honda.  I just really like the mellow vibe of that song and the lyrics are so perfect.  It was improssible to find the song on YouTube that wasn’t associated with the commercial so I hope those guys got paid a lot!

Mama said there would be days like these

A mother always knows her child best.  I can remember having that feeling just a few weeks after my referral--a very bad feeling.  I was very concerned that he might have a particular illness and I would ask the other families that traveled before me to check.  Some told me to rest my mind because they take good care of the children there.  Something felt off.  And it was.  It was horribly off. 

I had the same feeling when I dropped him off for daycare on Friday. 

They called me around 11 am and told he was sick.  102* and pukey.  Even after Tylenol it only came down a little bit.  Saturday was better (thank God!) at least until his afternoon nap.  He awoke with a fever almost 103*.

Today is the kind of day that really measures the mettle of a mother.  The Spud is sick.  His fever was lower, but he just seemed off still.  I didn’t have to wait long to find out why.  In addition to a respiratory virus he has a stomach bug.  No need to go into detail there.

I am thankful I have such good friends.  I had plans to have a movie out with Spud’s Uncle, but it didn’t quite turn out that way.  Instead, the planned babysitter had to come to my house with PediaLyte, popsicles and Jell-O.  Spud’s Uncle M came over to keep us company and brought a movie that I am sure he was unable to enjoy over the crying.  And Aunt J (from the giggling video I posted a week or so back) came over and showed me what to do.  I don’t feel bad about my lack of knowledge—all the logic and training goes out the window when it is your own child. 

Addendum: I started this post nearly 12 hours ago when all I had was a sore throat and sinus drainage.  As the day progressed I began feeling worse and worse.  I’ve checked my temp twice in the last hour and I am ranging between 101.7 and 102.4.  In my urgency to get Spud to take fluid, any fluid, I neglected to drink anything (did I mention that he only had two wet diapers today—minus the diaper changed when he got up?).  Once again I have achy joints, chills, and snot.  Lots of snot.  Have I mentioned that I whine terribly when I don’t feel good?  It’s true, just ask any of my IRL friends and my family.  Big.  Whiney.  Girl. 

Hopefully Spud hasn’t been kissing any swine lately.  According to the news that is really bad for your health.

Snot City, man.  At least this is clear, the stuff today is so not like yesterday’s. 

I don’t trust myself in my fevered state.  I had way too much fun playing with Kelli’s lenses yesterday and now that I have a laptop and a BlackBerry it is way to easy to fever shop to make myself feel better.  Yep, whiney, it’s the new….well, it’s my new sense of humor for a few days. 

You’ve been warned.

Twins?!? How about brothers from another mother (and father)

Twins?  Seriously?  No, they are not twins, just junior buds.  The boys enjoying some food.  Notice the cleared table—how else can you eat a meal when there are things to grab (besides food)?

I just love how organized teachers are.  I’m lucky if I get out the door with my wipes, diapers, bottle and snacks.  Of course, part of the problem stems from Spud packing and re-packing the bag so some things go missing.  Frequently.  Bubbles?  Forget about it.  Kelli rocks though! The Spud likes all things round—balls, wheels.  Yesterday I had to repeatedly peel him off a kid’s wheelchair in the doctor’s office.  Now, that is classy. Bunny ears? Just love the expression on Spud’s face.  Check out the next one! Makes me laugh!

Beautiful boy! I absolutely LOVE this picture.  The expression on his face isn’t one I see often.  How many pacifiers does one child need?  I have no idea, but I have a whole bunch of photos of the thief in action!

Did I mention how windy it was?

  My sick little boy was just so tired by the time these photos were taken.  It’s hard to get a photo when he isn’t on the run.

I had such a great time with Kelli and Aiden today!  I always ask to hold Aiden when we visit because it reminds me of what a light baby feels like!  They are about the same height but Duc has two pounds on Aiden and it is pretty obvious!  My boy is stout.  I had to laugh at all the twin comments because beside the weight difference and dark hair and eyes I don’t think they look anything alike.   Aside from the fact that they are devilishly cute.   The boys are actually two different ethnicities (which I wrote a post about and never hit the publish key.  Someday…), with very different features.  The funny thing is that it wasn’t just white people that were asking!

We are planning on future get together if for nothing more than at least getting photos of us actually holding our boys.  Most mamas know this, but especially single mamas, it is hard to find photos of us with our children.  The boys had a great time piling up on the floor and I really enjoyed picking Kelli’s brain about some things single mom stuff.  It was also good to know that Spud isn’t the only one that finds toes irresistible!

What doesn’t match?

You know those tests they make you take in high school to stimulate your critical thinking…you know, the ones that list a moose, an elk, a deer and a cat and make you guess which one doesn’t fit?  Get ready to play along.

Did you figure it out?  If so, leave a comment!

More to follow after dinner and getting a sick baby back to sleep. 

No one told me

On Friday or Saturday night I was flipping through all six of my TV stations when a new show caught my attention on NBC.  I’m sure it wasn’t meant to be heartbreaking, but they showed a social worker picking up an infant boy not much older than Duc and walking away with the intent to place him foster care.  You could tell by the way she held him that she didn’t care for the child—she was just the means to get him from here to there.  And the blond headed baby in the yellow jammies wailed miserably. 

There was something in the plaintiveness of his cry that wrenched my heart in a way I didn’t expect.  Perhaps because I have heard that cry out of the mouth of my own son and it sends a wave of panic along my nerves down to my hands and feet.  I can’t be still when I hear that cry and hearing that sound forced me into hurried motion.  Although Duc has not been sleeping well for a few nights I needed to see him.  To hear his breath and feel the heat come off his skin.  To know that he was okay.

No one told me that the moment you become a mother changes not just how you feel or how you look at life, but the very fibers that knits you together as a person.   Your wants and desires are second to that of your child and you are happy for it.  That child, your child, becomes so entwined with your own DNA that you respond to your child’s needs without thinking.  It is an amazing thing and something so ingrained in us as women that even the passing of the millennia has not evolved us past sacrificing ourselves for our children.  For somewhere deep within us we know that we can’t survive without our children—not as a civilization, not as mothers.

I expected that being a mother would change me.  What I didn’t know is how many ways it would change me.   I didn’t become a mother the moment I picked him up out of his crib in Vietnam.  I didn’t feel any different in that moment—no choir of angels singing, time did not slow down—I didn’t notice this until hours later.  I became a mother sometime in the two years previously.  I don’t know if it happened when I placed my pen to paper the first time I signed my name to a contract or when I signed the binding agreement accepting him as family during our Giving & Receiving ceremony. 

What I do know is that by the time we finally did become mother and son he had already changed me.  It was marvelous to watch.  My body would respond to him long before my brain heard and processed his cry.  Even from the first night my hand would seek him out any time I heard him whimper or cry.  And while I have been blessed with a lifetime of deep sleeps, even now, in the darkest part of the night I am aware of him.  Many nights I don’t awaken when he stirs, but on some level, I am always aware of him.

The week before last we were all three in Dallas—my son, my mother and me.  Duc and I were both sick.  Besides the extreme fatigue and achiness, coughing and congestion hit us both.  Even in the depth of my exhaustion fueled sleep my body reacted to every cough, every sniffle.  I don’t remember most of it, but my mother, the light sleeper told me that every time he began to cough I would stop and hold my breath.  The second he resumed breathing I would finally exhale.  Knowing that gave me a strange sense of peace.  It settled me to know that even when I am not in the same room with him or fully aware of him, I am able to stretch beyond my subconscious state and respond to him. 

No, no one told me that when I would hear a baby cry, any baby cry, that my heart would begin to race and my eyes would seek out those of my child.  No, no one told me to be aware of the crying baby in the yellow pajamas. 

Then      

Now

11/4

Dearest Duc,

It blows my mind that you are eleven months old today and that we have been together for four months. It seems like such a small number, doesn’t it? It seems too small of a number to express how dramatically our lives have changed.

People will laugh because I am naive, but it has not been as hard as I imagined it would be. Any where I am you want to be also. You don’t even mind if I don’t get you to bed on time as long as we are together. People often remark that we were perfectly matched—both easy going, easy with a smile and a giggle, and both of us have some wacky-do hair with lots of cowlicks. I have laughed more in the last four months than I think I have for the last thirty years.

You are definitely the center of attention and you demand that you remain the center of attention. At restaurants you like to walk around talking to people, but if they don’t stop to talk you get upset with them and get louder and louder and try even harder to get their attention. I don’t know how anyone can ignore you—not with that smile on your beautiful face.

You are bipedal 100% of the time now. I thought I would be sad about it, and a little bit I am, but you are so cute I can’t help but enjoy it. You have really good balance, but you walk like Godzilla. Fists up in the air while you stomp your feet about.

You are on table food also. It is rare that you ever get baby food. Mostly because it ticks you off and you spray it all over the place. I have always enjoyed cooking, but now it is much more enjoyable for me because you are so excited over mealtime! I wasn’t exposed to a lot of different fruits and vegetables when I was young, but that is something that you won’t need to worry about. Friday night I sauteed up some eggplant, onions and spices. You ate with so much gusto I wasn’t sure there was going to be any left for me to eat! You eat everything, except you aren’t the biggest fan of fruit. All the fruits I LOVE you spit out. Breaks your mama’s heart! I made strawberry shortcake for you today—you ate the shortcake and I ate the strawberries. You feed yourself and have since the time you began walking at around nine months.

You are a very determined child. I can’t see you ever sitting idly and waiting for life to start. You don’t miss anything. Ever. It is a challenge to re-direct you away from things (like playing with the stove) that are bad for you. I will take you into another room, get you started with some other toys and two seconds later you are back to trying to play with the stove.

You are already doing things I wouldn’t expect at your age. While in Dallas you actually offered me a piece of your food and placed it in my mouth. You also recognize choices now. I gave you a cheerio out of the party mix and as you were preparing to put it in your mouth you realized I had others in my hand. You reached over, put the cheerio back and chose a pretzel. You keep me on my toes.

On Friday I caught you attempting to climb a tree. I vacillate between being over the moon proud of you and all you can do and missing my little baby.

Godzilla in action.

Happy 11 months, babe.

Confession

I have a confession.

I am a heterosexual.

That’s right.  I’m not ashamed, I am not closeted.  I am a girl that likes boys.

This might sound crazy to you, but you have to realize a couple of things. 

I live in the gayest city outside of San Francisco.  I don’t say this to be offensive.  Far from it, I have a lot of gay friends and enjoy what they have brought to our community.  We are often referred to as the gay Mecca of the Midwest and our tourism industry actually highlights this fact.  On the last census it was noted that we had the largest concentration of single men and this fact even made it into O magazine.  I almost blew soda out of my nose when I read that fact because it was used to encourage single women that single men, are in fact, abundant.  A single man is an unmarried man.  The reason we have so many “single” men is because they are not legally allowed to marry the partners they prefer.   A number of large businesses in this town offer same sex partner benefits which also draws a lot GBLT individuals.  In this town a transgendered individual is not stared at no matter where he is in his transformation. 

So here is what we know:

1. I am single.
2. I’m over 3o years-old.
3. I live in the second gayest city in the country.
4. And I just adopted a child.

Do you see where I am going with this?  Because I work in healthcare I work with a lot of women, a great number who are lesbians.  At first I didn’t notice anything suspicious, but then I realized that when I walk through the lunch room, lesbians that I DO NOT KNOW are waving or nodding at me.  A very unfriendly woman who is quite the challenge to work with has been very sweet with/on me.  She was sweet before she knew about the adoption, but now I am enduring kisses on the forehead and cheeks and LOOOONNG hugs.  She has a partner who could easily kick my butt into next week.  I was telling one of her close friends about it and she told me that in all the time that she known her (and they are good friends) this woman has never once hugged her. 

I have received a lot of support from the lesbians in my large workforce.  Women that I really don’t know.  They have provided goods for the Spud, friendship and one of them even provided a sizeable financial donation while I was on an unpaid maternity leave. 

I’m sure I haven’t helped matters either with my appearance.  I  barely wear make-up any more.  Spud has ripped out my earrings (so I don’t wear them anymore), necklaces, bracelets, etc.  so I don’t wear them either.  Since becoming a mom I have become frumpy and dumpy looking (now that I am saying that lesbians looking frumpy, but my weight gain has certainly not helped me, ok?). 

As some of you know, I am a stickler for telling the truth, the whole truth.  The other day while I was waiting for the elevator I was talking to two lesbians that I work with and a really hot guy walked by.  I admit, he was drool worthy and I stared.  After he was past I said to the two ladies “wow, he is really cute!”  They looked at my like I was crazy and said, “are you crazy?”

That’s when I knew.  I am a closeted heterosexual.  It’s not that I care terribly about their confusion, but I don’t like living a lie.   I think the fact that I am not in a relationship and have no plans in the immediate future to be a in a relationship make me an oddity.  I think I am probably hard to figure out as a result (see the above mentioned facts in the first part of the post) and because of where I live people just make assumptions.  Incorrect assumptions.  I feel like I am leading an entire community on and now I am feeling really uneasy/guilty when they offer me something, especially those long hugs.

What do I do?  How, or do I even try to *straighten* this out?

Inquiring minds want to know. 

Blessings

How can I possibly let an Easter pass without recognizing how thankful I am for all the blessings that I enjoy.  Sometimes it takes a holiday to remind us of the goodness that exists in our lives. 

I am so thankful for the little reminders.  Little reminders that I share my life with a little man.  That I am, indeed a mother.  Sometimes that little fact seems beyond me.  I guess it is not something that I sit and ponder on.  I just am.  Tonight I was just trying to clean up the mess that is my house.  It always kicks me in the pants at the end of the weekend that we have had too much fun and not enough serious time.  As I was cleaning out my temporary diaper bag/purse (there was an unfortunate leaking bottle that soaked into my diaper bag while in Dallas.  Can you image the smell??) I pulled out a couple of alphabet letters.  I don’t recall placing them in the outside pocket and it was just a little reminder that my son has impacted every aspect of my life.  From my messes to my purse pockets.

Yes, my son is sporting a suit and eating straw.  The nickname Spud seems rather fitting, don’t you think?  The straw is candy straw made out of potato starch.  Tastes like crap (or diet rice cakes which also taste like crap), but since Spud likes eating grass and tree bark I don’t think he cares. 

My beautiful niece playing with her new bubble blower.

The Spud has been very clingy lately and according to my sister it is completely normal at this age.  As soon as I put him down he starts crying.  It’s horrible!  I feel so bad for him.  I will be standing right there next to him and he cries.  I’m a mean mommy because his quivering chin is the cutest thing I have ever seen.  I always pick him up because I don’t want him to cry.  And honestly, I don’t mind it so much but he looks miserable.  I’ve pulled out a ring sling that I bought a while back.  I was afraid it was a waste of my money, but now I see it is invaluable!  I’ve just stuck him in it and gone on with my business.  He’s happy as can be.

Yesterday I met with the mortgage specialist (ok, if they get to be a specialist can I be a play specialist or swing pusher specialist?) and it still gave me a slight thrill to hear the mortgage specialist stutter in awe over my credit score.  It’s about the only thing that about me that can be described as perfect.  Knock on wood—seriously, I hope I didn’t just screw myself.  I’ve had identity theft issues twice since August and I always hold my breath a bit when I check or have my credit scores checked.  I am going to keep an eye on the interest rates and if *ANYONE* sees it drop under 5% please let me know.  I am waiting to lock in a lower rate.  It looks like I can drop my payment or drop to a 20 year term.  THAT would be awesome.  Just imagine—I can have my house paid off about the time my kids graduate high school.  

While we were meeting with the mortgage specialist Spud took a monster dump.  The kind that makes the eyes water and causes the gag reflex to work a little harder.  I asked her if it bothered her, and if so, I was willing to change it.  Of course she was polite and waved it off.  As soon as I got to the car I stripped his pants off to change him in the backseat.  I swear, I turned just to make no one was sneaking up behind me and when I turned my head back around Spud had rolled off the seat and was lying on the floor.  Didn’t make a peep.  Little turd just  laid there looking at me with his dirty diaper wrapped around his legs.  Ewww!

We went to the park and he ate some bark, sat in a swing and squealed with sheer joy!  It was as much fun for me to watch and hear as it was for him to do, I think. 

Spud is walking about 80-90% of the time now so he tried to play with the big kids at the park.  It was funny to watch him chase the bigger kids.  And by bigger, I mean kids that no longer count their age in months.  I marvel each time I see him in action.

Happy Easter!

Almost

Poor Spud is definitely still sick. Mom looked slightly crazy by the time I returned to the hotel. He had been whiny and cranky all day and it was making her crazy. His nose had finally STOPPED running. This is huge. He has been a snot machine since he started daycare a month ago. As I reminded her, one bad day in the span of 16 weeks is still freakin' awesome.

I finally figured out why he was/is staggering around like a drunken sailor. I found out first hand when I stumbled out of bed and realized my balance was also off. He still has lots of smiles and giggles for mama though. I am spoiled.

There is a Carter outlet store across from the hotel. Mom hit it yesterday and bought him a couple of little Easter gifts (do I mention that some outfits only cost $3.99????). We went back tonight and I dropped some serious change on getting him some clothese. Usually I can give two hoots about shopping, but it seemed sort of wrong not to enjoy 50-70% off sales. Entire outfits for $2.49??? Incredibly cute clothes for cheap. Of course, the more you pile them into the bag the more you spend.

By this evening he was starting to look and act more like th boy I know. I must admit I have really enjoyed him falling asleep in my arms all week long. This doesn't happen at home. I think it's all the fresh air Oma keeps exposing him to.

I don't have photos for two reasons:

1. I am on my work computer and didn't want to save anything personal on it.
2. I just didn't take any photos. Yep, no photos this week. We have all been too sick for it and I don't want any reminders of the horrible ick that hit us.

The next time I post I will be sitting like a bum on my own couch again (I hope). Please say a prayer, cross your fingers that we get an earlier flight out of Dallas tomorrow. Otherwise it will be dark by the time we get home and Spud gets a little worked up when it is past his bedtime.

Duc walks like a lady

People always ask me if Duc/Spud is a girl. I can't tell if it is because 1 white chic + 1 asian babe = (chinese) girl ?
Does that equation sound about right? He is pretty, but he has never worn anything that looked remotely girly so I can't quite figure this out.

Anyhoo, I am still down in Dallas and Comcast kind of sucks because I can't access my email either at the hotel or at the training center. So, I am getting them on my Blackberry, but I gotta tell you, I can NOT email proper responses on something that small. So I won't be able to respond for a couple more days, but if you are emailing me with this email or my private one I am getting them and I will respond once I have a full keyboard.

Spud is here with me and so is my mom. Thank God. Spud and I are both sick and she is essentially taking care of both of us. We arrived Monday afternoon and while we were at Target I suddenly felt ill. It seems either Spud gave me something or this is just the tail end of the horrible allergy crap I was feeling last week. I actually had to leave class several hours early on Tuesday because I felt so poorly, but I slept a lot yesterday and now I feel a lot better. It really helped that Spud slept well last night.

The first night was BAD. I'm not going to delve into it, but I am sure there were some other sleepless guests in the hotel as a result.

Mom is worried that Spud may have an inner ear infection. He has been walking really well, but yesterday and today he has been stumbling around like a drunken sailor--running into furniture and everything else. It was funny at first, but now it is a bit sad. Hopefully it will resolve quickly because I would hate for him to be uncomfortable as we fly back. He is still happy and most people wouldn't know the difference but he is slightly off. Poor baby.

It hasn't been a bad week--our time here has been enjoyable, but I am looking forward to going home and sleeping in our own beds again. At least I haven't had to do any laundry or fix dinner this week!

Reoccuring themes

Does anyone watch Celebrity Apprentice? Well, I am down in Dallas and saw a Jack in the Box commercial (which we don't have back home) that almost had me spitting soda out my nose.

Cattle the size of schnauzers? Now that is a mini burger. Does anyone read the comic strip Mallard Fillmore? They recently completed a little series about the economy and the reappearance of the mini burger.
Hmmm....burger. Sounds good.

Addendum: I am in a much better mood now and actually, the phone rocks. There was a reason I chose a Blackberry--I just wish it was a little more user friendly and the apps were more like the iPhone. There were a couple of features that were make or breaks that the iPhone doesn't have. So, I actually got exactly what I needed. It rocks!

I decided to take the day off because I have been feeling so exhausted this week. Can I just tell you how annoyed I am by all the unsolicited comments and “advice” from people about this. I know why I am tired, it is the same reason I feel bone deep tired for two weeks twice a year. It’s called allergy season. Instead of having a runny nose and itchy eyes I get an autoimmune response and have fevers and extreme fatigue. It happens like clockwork every spring and fall which is why I have been extremely annoyed by people saying things like

“Well, your a mom now. Tired is just part of it”

or

“You should really get more sleep".”

Really? You think that is the solution? I wish. Even my mom told me she hoped that I would get acclimated to our new schedule. I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about—what new schedule? Evidently the one with me going back to work full time...four weeks ago. Honestly, that is not the problem. I’ll be back to my self in another week or so when the pollen count isn’t so high.

Oh, did I mention it makes me slightly mean and severely annoyed?

Yeah. Not in the mood today. I did take Spud to daycare for 2.5 hours this afternoon so I could run errands. I bought a new phone—a Blackberry Pearl. I hate it. I should have known not to buy it when what I really wanted was an iPhone. Supposedly it was cheaper, but I realized after the fact that AT&T is a LIAR! It’s only cheaper if you already have a data plan (which I didn’t). I realized too late that in the short and long run this phone costs/will cost me more. Oh, I wish my math skills were a lot better! Hopefully since I have owned the phone less than a day they won't give me any crap about switching. Otherwise I will just get another low end phone and wait until I can upgrade my service again.

Spud has decided walking is the only way to go. The daycare people commented that the only time they see him walking is when I drop him off or pick him up. He always walks/runs to me. Today he was showing off and one of them said he looks too short to be walking. She is right! He just seems so small to me. At home it is about 50/50 with walking or crawling, but every day he seems to prefer the walking slightly more. Sigh...my little baby is growing up too quickly.

Cuteness abounds

 

The boy likes tacos, but because he is dealing with a nasty snotty nose and icky cough he just rubs his food all over his face.  My toe in the last photo was being used as a chew toy. 

Did I mention that my son is all boy?  Even without a strong male influence in his life the boy coughed up a nasty loogie and spit it in the grass like a pro.  So gross.