Sorry for the blog vacation...

Sickness is running through our household.  I'll be back online soon... keep checking!

Happy Birthday

Today Mr. Monkey Pants is 7 months olds.  I can't even believe it.  I think at this exact time, 7 months ago, I was just coming out of a drug-induced coma.  I knew I had give birth but it hadn't really sunk in yet.  I still can't believe Mr. Monkey Pants was the baby in my belly (uterus - I'm aware, but the alliteration works better with belly).

Happy Birthday my little man!

Look-Alike Contest

When Monkey was really sick (now he just has residuals from his sickness) his nose would be all red - partly from his cold and partly from his mother using tissues and the bulb to get the snot out.

Brian made a comment that with his little red nose Monkey looked like one of the Puffs tissues characters.  What do you think?

Pediatrician Appointment & The Other Sickie

Monkey went for his 6-month check-up.  The Nurse Practitioner agrees with me, Monkey just had a cold which will need to run its course, no alarm at any of his symptoms.

My big boy is growing up fast:

Weight: 17.5 lbs (61st percentile)
Height: 26.5 in (66th percentile - this did not come from my side)
Head: 18 in (98th percentile - who knew he had such a giant head?)

He got 3 shots today and this is him tonight.  I am one of the luckiest moms in the world... really, I am.

And on to other news.  Brian is still sick.  He keeps thinking he is better and then it comes flooding back.  But, there is one ray of hope.  He says some super funny things when he is sick.

I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate this... but... my husband is rather dramatic when he is sick... and when he is angry... and when he is happy... and when he is watching TV - you get the idea.  Anyway, one of my new favorite websites is: Shit My Dad Says (if you don't like cursing in your humor, then don't go to this site). 

And so I thought I would PG it and make this section:

Stuff Brian Says (when he is sick)

1. I'm dying.  No, seriously, I'm dying.
2. I think we should go to the ER and tell them I'm dying.
3. Ellie, tell me, if it comes to it, are you okay with me letting go?
4. I feel like someone ran me over with a truck, revived me, and then ran me over again.
5. Why am I dying?
6. Will you remarry when I'm gone?
7. Kiss my forehead (apparently this is how his grandmother used to take his temperature).
8. Will you miss me when I'm gone?
9. Don't get rid of Socks (Brian's super bad cat) when I'm gone.

And, just as funny, is how I respond to everything he says (I'm not the most empathetic... in general).  Each number below corresponds to the same number above.

1. You're not dying, you're just sick.
2. I think you are okay enough to drive yourself because that just sounds embarrassing.
3. Yes, by all means, let go.
4. That's pretty funny actually.
5. Because God doesn't like you.
6. I don't know if anyone else can put up with me.
7. No, here is a thermometer.
8. Are you going to be like this until you go?
9. I can't make any promises. Besides you won't know anyway.

And that is all the news for today.

And now for something completely different...

Warning: This post has gratuitous ridiculously cute pictures of a sick baby randomly strewn throughout.

(FYI - my title is a nod to the brilliance of Monty Python's Flying Circus.  If you didn't get that, go and rent some episodes and then thank me later.  If you did get that... well done.)

One of the things I love about motherhood is that there is always something new around the corner.  Like the first time your baby smiles at you, or the fist belly laugh, and my personal favorite the first time he holds his arms out for you to pick him up.  And then there are the not-so-much-fun firsts.  Like the first time he poops on you or the first time your shirt gets unknowingly soaked by urine.  Or, so far my absolute favorite, the first time your baby throws up on you and it is all mucus.

(My two sick boys hanging out together.  The pillow on top of the couch is covering up a hole in the brick wall and any subsequent drafts - classy.)

The very first time was last night.  As I finished feeding monkey he went in o a coughing fit.  A frequent croupy cough victim myself, I was not alarmed.  However, Brian was.  He said, "Is Monkey choking?"  And, with all of my lifeguard knowledge behind me, I said, "As long as he can cough he is fine."  And I turned Evan to face me to let him know he was okay and he threw up all over me, all over the couch, and all over the floor.  It was 85% mucus and 100% disgusting.  I mean, I've dealt with some pretty gross things but this one was the most gross to date (I'm sure something entirely different will trump it).

(A little closer look of the sickies.  Who looks more sick?  The man collapsed on the couch or the smiling baby?)

So we cleaned everything up, and Monkey quickly went to sleep.  My poor little sick baby slept the entire night until 5:15 AM.  He woke up, I used the snot bulb to clear his nose, and fed him his bottle.  He made it about 45 minutes and then he needed to go back to sleep.  I picked him up and walked him back to his bedroom.  I made it until the threshold of his room before he threw up all over me - this time it was 95% mucus.  Just keeps getting better.

(Cutest droopy eyed sick baby ever!)

He hasn't thrown up on me again today, but now I'm prepared with a blanket over my shoulder every time I touch him (which of course means he won't throw up on me at all).

(I want my skin to be that smooth when I'm healthy... never mind when I'm sick.)

Today he seems to be on the mend.  Still full of a lot of mucus (will the pediatrician be able to suck that right out of him - have they invented that tool yet?) but also three quarters of the way full of energy.

As for the big sickie, he too is getting better.  A day of rest does wonders for a body with a cold.  Now let's hope this cold leaves the loft without making a visit to me!