5 New Posts Below!!

Ha, month of January! I will conquer you! I just doubled my posts for the whole month! Ha!

So, keep scrolling down to read about the boringest details of my life! With pictures!

Narcissist, party of 1?

19 Month Stats

Sarah, you ask shouldn't that be 18 month stats? Don't kids see the pediatrician at 18 months? Yeah. They do. But like this blog, we've been a bit behind. Lots of rescheduling with Harry's doctor. So today, we saw the other doctor in his group, whom I totally like because she is s nice and funny and loves to chit chat. Harry's doc, on whom I have a huge crush (Ben knows-- he's cool with it. God I hope Harry's doctor doesn't read this blog. Not that he would but gosh that'd be embarrassing) is awesome, too, and will spend all day talking about research trends, but not so much on the homespun advice-- and there's a gender stereotype for ya, huh? (And this doctor totally was all about Harry knowing the Elmo's World song-- she asked him about it before he could even sing it because despite being a member of the American Academy of Pediatricians, she HAS small kids, and she KNOWS they watch the tube before they're 2, and to think, I was totally sweating it that Harry would bust me as a bad mom by singing Elmo's world or imitating Cookie Monster, and I'd have to say he learned it all from books! Books! And the Earth's Best organic cookie boxes!) Anywho, Harry was pronounced "delightfully healthy," and he wowed the doc and her resident with his mad talking skills and his ridiculous new trick of hiding by bending over and touching his head to the floor. Ben always pretends like Harry is invisible when he does this, so now he does this all the time and thinks he's really not seen by anyone.

All the extra bup he's been chugging is starting to show, as he was 25 pounds 5 ounces (a little above the 25th percentile) and 33 inches long (50th percentile). His head was 50th, too, meaning he's staying nicely on his growth curve, although his weight has never been higher than the 10-15th before, so that's cool.

Also cool? No more shots until he's 5! He was excited to hear this, as the HepA shot really pissed him off today.
Harry'd like to be a doctor someday, only for the awesome chair.

Sledding WITH a sled

Finally, right?

I worked ALL DAY on Saturday (poor me-- a whole day of work-- so not fair), and Ben took Harry sledding because yes, we sure did get more snow.

I would pretend like this post had a point other than to show you these funny pictures of Harry looking all sorts of crabby while he sleds, but it doesn't. So, here ya go:

Oh yeah-- he asks to wear "no pants" and "boops" everyday, so I imagine he was beyond excited to put these on.

Oh my! Our never photographed laundry room.

Love how Oompa-loompa-y he is in these clothes




He was wearing thumbless mimmens, so he had to go in early because he kept taking them off because people he is not a monkey, and his hands got too cold, poor kid.


Also because he totally bit it on the driveway. This picture warms my heart in ways you cannot imagine because it proves that I am not the only one of Harry's parents who will photograph first and help second.

A couple weeks ago

We went to see my parents-- which is why were were so totally stuck on the road for 9 freaking hours. Anyway, my dad's aunt passed away in November in Arizona, and he family came back to Pekin in January to bury her ashes near her husband and have a memorial service

Now I know that funerals are never a rocking good time, but this one was so nice. I guess that's what happens when you have a month to pan a memorial instead of a weekend or a couple of days. It made me think of this play that Ben and I did for duo in college (how lame do I sound when I say that, by the way). It was called _Cakewalk_ and was about Lillian Helman. I was Lillian, and I remember my first line was something like "When I die, I want a big jazz funeral," and the character talked a bit about how she wanted people to celebrate when she was dead. Well, this funeral wasn't jazzy at all, but it was a very sweet celebration of a life. Many of the granddaughters had a reading or a song, and all of the women wore red shoes with their funeral black, which was adorable because Aunt Marge always loved red shoes. Afterwards, everyone came over to my parents' house and sat around drinking wine and looking at boxes of old family photos, which was also a very sweet celebration.

Harry had a good time with his grandma and his Great Aunt Ginny
He also enjoyed wearing his Uncle Ben's tie while riding his bipe

So much so that he wanted Ben and me to share the experience


Then he hung out inside this plastic tub for awhile. Safe, huh?

Hey Good Lookin'

Ahh, two big deadlines met and back to obsessing about the minutiae of my daily life. And eating large cinnamon rolls, which sucks because I have to go to the OB and be weighed on Thursday and it's been 5.5 weeks since my last visit, so I am pretty sure I have gained a shit ton of weight (the technical term) and that 85% of this weight is Panera, not McLovin'.

Harry got this adorable Little Tikes kitchen for Christmas, and he loves it so much. I love it so much, too, despite the annoying recorded voice inside it who says things like "Put and object if you can on the cutting board or in the pan," "I declare! Are you still there?" and (blessedly) "Uh-oh, the battery's low." I love the kitchen so much that I put it in MY kitchen in all of its big, primary colored plastic glory, despite my insistence that my house would never feature big plastic toys in the main areas. Yeah. Wait until you see the huge Caterpillar truck under my end table. Why do I love this kitchen so much? Because it keeps him soooooooooooooo busy, as you can see.


And how funny is this? He must keep HIS vacuum next to MY vacuum at all times.

What He's Got Cookin'

It's always funny for me to clean up Harry's kitchen as I am cleaning up my own kitchen because he cooks some weird stuff.

Like this, a house specialty that features a banana, a fork, and a bottle of ketchup. The other ingredients change on the whim of the chef.

A peak inside Harry's refrigerator.

And his oven.

I am not sure how the Word Whammer is affecting Harry's language skills, but I know it's helping mine. You really have to think outside the box to come up with profane 3-letter words, none of which is featured here because this is a PG blog for fuck's sake, and I want you to use your imaginations and come up with your best 3-letter unmentionable. And maybe mention it to me. And the Designed to Sell people would so hate this fridge decor. But that's okay because with this market? We'll NEVER be able to sell anyway.

Here's the truck under the table.

Which always holds a stick of butter and a teeny measuring cup, natch

Chapter 4! I Am Done!

So excited. For anyone playing along at home, that's 4 down and one to go.

Also, Harry slept in his fire truck bed last night. Until about 2 a.m. when he found himself standing, all disheveled and surprised to be out of bed, at the gate outside his door asking "Mama? Dada? Bup?" When changing his diaper this morning, Ben asked Harry where he wanted to sleep tonight, and Harry pointed at our room. He's in the fire truck right now...

Don't think I am going to spend the rest of my break relaxing and resting on my laurels. Oh no, my friends. I am writing something for a real live book that may actually be read by someone besides Tripod, and it's due on Tuesday, so yeah.

Look! Harry and his Uncle Ben eating cheese!