Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Friday, September 18, 2009

Ouchies! (Alternately Titled: Somebody should probably call CPS)

We've had a rough week here in McFarlandville, and poor Reid's face tells the tale...

On Monday night, I was carrying Reid through our bedroom and I slipped on a blanket on our hardwood floor. My feet flew out from under me, and I frantically tried to hold Reid up so he wouldn't hit his head on the floor. Instead, I managed to bring him down on the corner of his pack and play. His little cheek turned purple almost immediately. It doesn't show up so well in pictures, but it was ugly.

Reid seemed fine on Tuesday, but we were already worried about what his daycare would think about his face on Thursday. Then, Tuesday night, the unthinkable...Baxter scratched Reid! (Disclaimers: Yes, it sucks that the cat scratched the baby. In his defense, he was surprised and scared. We are working to prevent the cat and baby from being in similar situations in the future. The cats have been very sweet and patient with Reid excluding this incident. There are NO plans to get rid of the cat(s). Thank you for your concern.)

By the time we took Reid to daycare on Thursday morning he looked like he had been through a war zone. Brian and I alternated between calling him "Bruiser" and "Rocky". His daycare providers were extremely understanding though. They let us pick him up, and no phone calls were made to CPS (to my knowledge).

This shows the scratch, but the bruise does not show up so well. (Disclaimer 2: in this picture the scratch had started to look slightly infected. The wound had already been thoroughly cleaned, but out of an abundance of caution, I cleaned it again, smeared it with antibiotic ointment and put a bandaid on it for 24 hours. I had to prevent Reid from getting cat scratch fever. Did you even know there was such a thing?)

This shows the healing bruise, as of today. Oh, and the scratch treatment worked. Look how much better his forehead looks!

I also let him eat paper this week. I really am a terrible mother. Apparently, he shares my love of Pottery Barn.

Bottom line: isn't that the sweetest face you've ever seen? It absolutely breaks my heart when he gets hurt in any way. However, he is a crazy, busy, active little boy, and I fear this is only the beginning...

Oh no! The Big 3-0

On September 11, my older and wiser (but mainly just older) husband turned 3o. We went to Jasper's (trendy restaurant) on Thursday night and bravely took Reid with us. He was quite well-behaved even though we kept him out past his bed time.

Stylin' baby getting ready for his night out on the town...

Reid with the almost Birthday Boy! Still looking good at 29 and 364/365

On Friday we had a little soiree at our house smack dab in the middle of a torrential storm. Our loyal friends braved the storm and enjoyed top-shelf margaritas, appetizers and a dessert assortment.

Brian does not like cake. He especially does not like birthday cake. So, I went to Central Market and picked out an assortment of fun desserts (mini cheesecakes, tiramisu cupcake, strawberry shortcake, chocolate mousse cup, chocolate raspberry tart, cream puffs, key lime tart, creme brulee, etc...).

My parents and Brian's mom were also in town to celebrate with us, but somehow I neglected to take any pictures of them, sorry!

Happy Birthday to the best husband a girl could ever have!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

This n That

I have a bunch of random things bouncing around in my head. So I thought I'd welcome you all in to my little stream-of-consciousness world.


We have a crazy, A-C-T-I-V-E little boy on our hands, folks! He is crawling faster, pulling up on everything in sight and standing (holding on to something) for up to 10 minutes at a time! He even pulled up on our ottoman and managed to move from the ottoman to the coffee table (they were only about 18'' apart).

In other news, Reid had his 6 month check-up last week. The official stats were:

Weight: 16 pounds 12 ounces (25th percentile)
Height: 26 inches (45th percentile)

I was surprised at how little Reid weighed. The pediatrician isn't concerned and chalked it up to how active he is. I have managed to hide my OCDness from the pediatrician up until now. I have refused to allow myself to call their office over symptoms (real or imagined) unless I knew it was a legitimate concern (like a highish fever). So, I think I took him by surprise when I casually tossed my latest concerns into my list of "normal" questions. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "How many times a day should Reid be eating solids?"
Dr.: "Two or three"
Me: " Is he old enough to get the flu shot?"
Dr.: "Yes, they can get it starting at 6 months."
Me: " you think Reid has man boobs or is that normal baby fat?"
Dr.: (doctor gives me a strange look...) "That is baby fat."
Me: "Oh, okay. So, do you think Reid has retinoblastoma (malignant tumor) in his left eye? You see, my dad took this picture of Reid and instead of red eye, his left pupil looked yellow, and I know that's one of the warning signs, but my dad said he just messed up the red eye correction on the computer...he even showed me the original where Reid's pupil was, in fact, red, but I'm still worried..."
Dr.: checking Reid's eyes again "nope, he's got great red reflexes in both eyes, and his pupils look great"
Me: "oh, okay, I think that's all my questions today..."
Dr.: breathes a huge sigh of relief and looks at me with amusement but amazingly does not look at me like I've completely lost my mind. And, THAT, is why I love this doctor so much :)


All of Reid's recent activity has led to a frenzy of baby proofing around here. After exploring several options, we think we have come up with a method of padding our enormous hearth that just might last (for a week or two anyway). It is a miracle of modern construction involving pool noodles, crib bumpers and LOTS of duct tape. I have to thank my sister for the fabulous (but slightly redneck) idea.


And finally, here are a few pictures from Baxter's perspective of what it looks like when a half-crazed ball of energy comes at you...