A Chin chopper Announcement and a really long story.

Since my post in August about Henry liking cheese, he continues to consume cheese with gusto and is also stringing more and more words into sentences. Those halcyon cheese-discovering days seem so long ago to me, though, because since that moment, someone in the house has been sick. And 93% of the time, that person has been me. You see, I am expecting another little chinchopper! Another little boy chinchopper! Yay - big news! But enough about them - this is about me. With pregnancy comes unmitigated nausea, exhaustion, and immunosuppression. I have had a sinus infection since the beginning of August. And when you are pregnant, you are not allowed to take any medication that might actually, well, help. The doctors give you suggestions for natural remedies like cough drops, tea with honey, and the Neti pot. I tried all of those remedies, and, unlike the good stuff that requires a prescription or at least proof of age, those "natural remedies" are easily accessible to everyone for a reason - they don't work.

[And, if I may, allow me to take a moment to comment on the Neti pot. If you are unfamiliar with the Neti pot, it is small pitcher that you fill with warm saline. You then pour the saline in one nostril, allow it to infiltrate your entire sinus cavity, and then endure the disgust as it “drains” out the other nostril. According to the fervent believers, the Neti pot is a miracle – your sinuses will thank you and you will breathe freely. The fact that I even tried the Neti pot is a testament to my misery. I positioned myself over the sink and began the saline infusion. I could feel the warmth penetrating my upper sinus cavity and then… nothing. Nothing came out the other side. About 1 cup of fluid went it, but none of it came out. I stood with a craned neck for several minutes, I jiggled my head, I jumped up and down – the fluid remained inside my head! Mike said, “It will probably drain out slowly just give it some time.” After an hour I went to bed – still with at least a cup of fluid sloshing around in my head. About 30 minutes later, I woke up with a horrible, relentless earache. It felt like the ear pressure from airplanes but 100 times more intense. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t lie down – the only position that was even slightly tolerable was sitting up completely straight with my head cocked ever so slightly in the direction of the painful ear. After about 5 hours of misery, and I mean tear-inducing misery (although, admittedly, the crying was mostly self-pity mixed with sheer exhaustion), slowly, my ear started to open gradually, the pressure released, and I could once again hear and return to bed. Naturally, Henry woke up about 10 minutes later. To this day, I don’t know what became of that saline. It must still be sloshing around up there in my head. So, if you are desperate enough for the Neti pot, consider yourself warned and best of luck.]

In addition to the respiratory infections, and all 3 of us have had multiple bouts since August (Mike and Henry get over their "colds" in about 3 days. My colds last, well, I still have one...), August/Sept were tough months for us because every week, either Mike or myself had to travel for work. I usually feel like we barely have things under control when all cylinders are firing - two healthy adults, no crushing work deadlines, no out of the ordinary circumstances - but when just one of the cogs is missing, the house of cards comes tumbling down (how many metaphors can I use in one sentence?). So, with only 1 adult present most of August/Sept, 2 sick parents, and 1 sick kid - we crumbled*. Poor Henry, he really suffered through some lax parenting. How many times did we beg him to watch TV while we shivered under 3 blankets during the hottest month of the year in one of the hottest cities in the country? But no, he wanted "to play outside." How many times did we feed him cookies for breakfast because we were too exhausted to assemble a nourishing breakfast? (Actually, I don't know the answer to this question, but one time Henry seemed so indignant that he couldn't have cookies for breakfast it made me wonder if I had ever fed him anything but cookies for breakfast?)

During this period of fever hazes and all night coughing fits, I had to go to the mother ship to give a talk at a conference. The morning that I left home, I woke up blind in my left eye. Literally, I couldn't see anything. I could tell by the horrified expression on M’s face that either my eyeball had popped out during the night and was dangling from the optic nerve or something even more disgusting had happened. My eye was sealed shut and taken over by conjunctivitis. Coincidentally, Henry also woke up with his left eye completely sealed shut. After prying our eyes open with crowbars, we both had one hugely swollen, red, leaky, puffy eye. I sighed. I had to get on a plane that morning and then give a talk the very next day. "What am I going to do?!" Mike answered quickly, "Wear an eye patch over that eye." He said it as if an eye patch was the most obvious and natural solution to the problem. I protested, "I can't give a talk wearing an eye patch - I'll look like a pirate!" Mike got a far away look on his face, and I could tell he was visualizing me giving my presentation as a pirate. He beamed.

So, off I went to the airport wearing my sunglasses all the time so people would assume that I was a celebrity who was flying incognito instead of a pregnant sick lady who was so congested that mucus was coming out of her eyes.

The next morning, the morning of my talk, I woke up blind in my right eye. Well, at least now my eyes were even - they were both equally puffy, red, leaky, and swollen. In addition to my eyesight, I also woke up to discover that I had lost my voice. Another sigh. Ok, well, I thought, I will use a microphone, it will be fine. Wouldn't you know it - at a conference center of all places - the podium had NO microphone? So there I was preparing to give the first talk of the first session** of the day-long conference - in a room that suddenly had become standing room only - in front of 200 + people, with NO voice and NO microphone.

I began my talk. And by "talk", I mean my phlegmy croak. I don't know why people stayed. Perhaps because it was the first talk of the first session and there was free coffee, people felt obligated to attend at least one session instead of meandering the hallways and checking their email (which I did during the 2nd half of the conference). After a few introductory statements, I came to the first slide that contained actual data, a data table, in fact. I turned and gestured toward the screen to explain, when lo and behold, the screen was completely blank. Empty. ALL of my figures were missing. In some sort of Mac to PC transitional error, the conference room did not display ANY of my figures. Normally, this would be one of my worst nightmares. In a way, I had been bracing myself for this moment since high school when I had to give my first talk. I am terrified of public speaking, but somehow I have survived many talks without fainting, vomiting, crying, (the big 3) and now I was faced with a legitimate reason to do all three. However, and this is the most unbelievable part, at that very moment, I had never felt more calm and comfortable in front of a crowd. In fact, at that very moment, standing in front of 200 people with no voice, leaky eyes, and now, no real information to present, my life suddenly made sense. It was as if my life to that point had been practice for this moment of awkwardness and humiliation. I smiled and laughed. And the audience did too. And I continued with my talk. I explained what the audience should have been seeing and somehow, thankfully, my 15 minutes of fame ended, and my talk was over.

* We didn't crumble entirely. We had help - thanks to Erin and Amy for their visits during what was a very difficult time!

**As an aside, presenting the first talk of the first session at a conference, even a small conference, even when I had no voice, limited eyesight, and uh, no real data to present, is a minor triumph for me. One time, I had to give the very last talk of the very last session of the very last day of a conference. The only people in the audience were my bitter co-presenters, and they all had their luggage with them and were constantly checking their watches so they could get to the airport in time to get on the standby list. The facilities team was waiting impatiently in the back of the room so that they could pack up the chairs and vacuum the floors. At least they were kind enough not to turn the vacuum cleaner on while I was talking.

Happy Halloween!

I realize that it has been a very long time since I have posted. I apologize, and I do have lots to report. For now, though, I am just going to throw up some pictures of Henry on his 3rd Halloween! This year, my mom and I made his costume - a little wizard. And when I say "my mom and I" made the costume, I mean that she let me hold the scissors when she wasn't using them. Henry attended a Halloween festival on Saturday at his school. He went on a scary wagon ride, decorated his own cookie and danced to some live music. On Sunday, we went Trick or Treating in the neighborhood. He was a little hesitant at first, but soon, out of nowhere, we ran into a giant mob of costumed kids and their parents. It was like Brigadoon - The Halloween Special. Kids of all ages appeared - we had never seen that many people outside in our neighborhood at one time. Henry barely recognized 1 or 2 of the kids, but that didn't stop him. He immediately and happily joined the gang and started running up to houses and following their lead. He was laughing and having a wonderful time. Now, every time we are outside in our neighborhood, he looks around forlornly and says, "Where did all the people go?"

I like cheese.

It was simple, succinct, and sincere. "I like cheese" was Henry's first sentence. This statement was followed quickly with two supporting comments: "Dada like cheese. Mama like cheese." He led a coherent discussion about our family's enthusiasm for cheese. Until a week ago, Henry was using one word at a time. I noticed on Saturday that he started stringing two words together, mostly nouns and modifiers, such as "Dada truck. Bye-bye Dada. My Dada." All of his two-word phrases mostly had to do with his father. I think I got a vehement "Mama NO!" when I suggested a diaper change.

It was surprising when he announced that he liked cheese because it was the first time he had strung three words together, used the pronoun "I", and used the verb "like." In fact, it may have been the first time he used a verb ever. Although we are bursting with pride that our kid can speak in sentences (remember, he is our first - we unabashedly burst with pride and marvel at his every accomplishment), Mike was hesitant about my publishing that Henry's first sentence was about liking cheese. "And why not?!" I exclaimed. I love that his first sentence was about cheese. Cheese is very important to me and, apparently, to Henry.

Haircut

This picture was taking on my phone so the quality is poor and lighting is bad, but I just think Henry looks so sweet wearing the smock and sitting in the firetruck patiently during his haircut. He will no longer allow Mike to cut his hair, and he cries the whole time at the barbershop so we took him to a place that specialized in kid's cuts. I was skeptical at first, but it didn't cost that much more than a regular barber and he was quiet and even babbled happily at the stylist.

Wisconsin

We went to Wisconsin to visit Mike's family in early July. It is the perfect time of the year to visit Wisconsin - the weather is beautiful. This year's trip was no exception. I can say with total confidence that Henry loved the trip. His grandparents' house is basically Disneyland for little boys. Dogs, fireworks, tractors, fields with bales of hay... what is not to love?

One of the dogs is a Great Dane, which is by far the biggest dog that Henry has every seen. When he first met Sofie (the Dane), I prompted Henry, "What does the doggie say?" Henry looked Sofie up and down and said, "RRRoarrrrr!" He thought she was a lion. When he wasn't sprinting through the fields or playing London Bridge by walking through Sofie's legs, Henry could be found in his Grandpa's machine shed. Tractors, riding lawn mowers, an ATV, yes, it just kept getting better and better.

Henry also had a wonderful time playing with all of his cousins. He played frisbee with Isaac and took walks with Elizabeth and gave hugs to baby William. He went to the Wild West rodeo show with the big boys, and he even got to pet a horse! In the evenings, he did a little singing and dancing to ham it up for the crowds. There was a lot to explore, and Henry did not rest until he had seen everything and met everyone. Literally. He didn't stop moving the entire time we were there. He would fly through the house, always stopping for a quick touch and go hug to Grandma, and then he was off again to play with his cousins, blow some bubbles, sit on the tractor, pet a dog, run down the lane... needless to say, Mike and I were a little exhausted from all of the Henry wrangling.

We stopped in Madison for a day and a half so we could relive the glory days, so to speak. I didn't get my fried cheese curds, but I did get some Babcock ice cream and some Great Dane artichoke dip. We spent an afternoon at the terrace (read: we spent a couple of hours trying to stop Henry from jumping in the lake). And we reconnected with a lot of friends, which is always something we look forward to during our annual trip.

On our drive back to the Milwaukee airport to return home, while Henry snacked on fresh berries from his uncle's garden, we started to plan for next summer's trip to Wisconsin.

Wisconsin

I am behind - Stay tuned for pictures from our trip to WI.

First Day of School

Since we moved, we have been on the waiting list for the daycare center at M's work. This is a good center with an excellent reputation, which explains the absurdly long waiting list. We were informed about 2 months ago that the earliest H could enroll would be June 2011. Until then, we had something that resembled a childcare plan - H's wonderful babysitter would continue to come through August and then he would start at a neighborhood daycare full-time for a few months. When June 2011 rolled around, we would re-evaluate the situation and enroll Henry into the daycare at M's work. Although not a perfect plan, I anticipated having the whole summer to prepare for the transition into full-time daycare.

While M & I were in CA just a few weeks ago, we received notification that a last minute spot had opened up at the daycare at M's work - to start immediately. Oh, and we were given 24 hours to make up our minds! I had not even seen the facility yet. This message was met with mixed emotions. Yay - he got a spot at the well-regarded daycare located at M's work! Boo - he has to start immediately and we have very little time to consider our options! Mike convinced them to extend our decision deadline for a few days - at least until we returned to the state. They obliged, and as soon as we returned home from CA, we visited the facility. We brought Henry with us.

I immediately liked the place. And so did Henry. He was running around, awed by the trucks, stage, trains, puppets, books, fort, slide, kiln( yes, they even have their own kiln!). We met his teachers, and they pointed out the giant construction crane that could be seen outside the window. The kids had drawn pictures of the crane and had been reading stories about cranes and trucks. All in all, the place was nearly perfect. I was so relieved. I felt good about the place, but now we had to survive the lead up to his first day of school.

I dreaded the first day of school and kept wishing that it would be over - just rip off the band aid already! Because it all happened so suddenly, we had very little time to talk to Henry about this life changing event that was about to happen to him. He has been in daycare previously, and he did great there, but his last full-time day care experience was almost a year ago and I wasn't sure if he would remember.

M & I were so anxious and jittery that we didn't sleep the night before the first day of school (just like old times...). The next morning, I am sure Henry was a little perplexed by the chipper yet self-contradictory tone of conversation. "Morning Henry!!! Today is a big day! But not that big - don't worry. Not that there is anything to worry about. Why would anyone be worried? But if you do, that is ok. But you won't. You will be fine. Not that you need to reassured. It will be fun. Time will fly by. But that implies that you want time to go by quickly. You won't - you will want to savor the day. Because you will be having fun. And mommy and daddy will pick you up at the end of the day." No wonder the kid practically leaped out of the car when we pulled up to the school.

Update - its been a few weeks into the "school" year now. Henry has adjusted well. I will admit that not every morning drop off went as smoothly as the first day. He has shed a couple of tears. This week, however, he is cheerfully waving "bye-bye" when I leave. When M picks him up, Henry is in no hurry to leave. Henry loves the food at the school and he is called the "water boy" because he reminds everyone to take their water bottles with them during outdoor playtime. He is also learning many new words and can drink from an open cup (versus a closed, sippy cup).