I don't want to freak you out, but...

Yesterday morning, I was driving to campus congratulating myself on leaving the house for my first day of my summer class before 8 am and looking pretty darn cute. I should call Ben and tell him how together I am, I thought, taking a swill of Diet Coke. At that exact second, my phone rang, and I looked down to see that Ben was calling me. Perfect timing, I thought, and answered with a cheery "Hola!".

"I don't want to freak you out," he said. "But I am in an ambulance on my way to the ER."

"What what WHAT?" I screamed.

"I told you not to freak out," he admonished. He explained that his heart wouldn't top racing and had been racing for 20 minutes when he called 9-1-1. The paramedics clocked his pulse at 150, which is pretty freaking scary. I spoke to one of the EMTs who told me he thought Ben was probably fine but that they were taking him in to be monitored. Ben came back on the line and told me to go ahead and go to class.

So I did, long enough to pass out my syllabus to a group of students who didn't look too bummed to get out of class early and freak out our department secretary when I told her I was going to the ER to be with my husband who thought he was having a heart attack (note: the ER doctor, who was both an MD and a PhD, said a fast heartbeat is NOT a sign of a heart attack. Good to know, Dr.Dr.).

I started to mince toward the hospital, which is half a mile from my office, because thought it would be faster than retrieving my car from the garage, driving through campus road construction, and parking at the hospital. Mid sashay, I realized that Ben came in an ambulance, so I needed my car to take him home. OMFG.

By the time I got to the hospital (which totally has valet parking, so it was a cinch), Ben's room was empty, and I freaked out for a minute, thinking he was dead. Luckily, he was just upstairs getting a chest X-ray. Which was fine. As were both of his EKGs. As was his blood work, except that his electrolytes were a little off, and his blood sugar was a little high.

"Why is my blood sugar high?" he asked a nurse.

"Well," she considered. "It's not THAT high. What did you eat for breakfast?"

"Peanut butter silk pie," he admitted.

Dr.Dr. said she thought he was probably dehydrated and that he didn't help anything by stopping for an espresso to calm down when he first felt his heart rate accelerate. He followed up with his primary care provider today, and everything was normal.

Except for his cholesterol, which was a tiny bit high. This elevated number, which has nothing to do with his heart incident (which is completely unexplained) coupled with my own gain of 3-5 pounds made us reconsider our eating habits.



Every night after the kids go to bed, we sit on our couch and eat soft cheese and pretzels.



We go through 14 ounces of this shit EVERY WEEK. Not to mention at least one-- but usually 2-- bags of pretzels.

No more, I tell you. We have purged the cheese. Starting now. (Because there is still birthday pie in the fridge).

But enough about the scariest thing that's happened to us in forever. Back to Harry's birthday.

He started with presents

hand-delivered by his faithful servant

who got a couple of bears as a consolation prize for it not being his birthday.

The infamous birthday pie


My grandparents sent Harry and Jack gift cards to Build-a-Bear for Harry's birthday, and they had the best time ever making their bears. Jack (who was totally the trendsetter--he picked his bear skin first, and Harry copied him) refused clothes for his bear but demanded a stroller. Harry decked his bear out in Star Wars gear and named him Darthy. Darthy Vader.



We ended Harry's birthday with dinner at a new chain restaurant that opened down the street. Harry has been wanting to eat at this pace since it opened, but we usually avoid chains. We said he could eat anywhere on his birthday, so that's how we ended up at a "thteak" house, where Jack fed his bear and Harry had a "thteak."



This morning when my alarm went off and Ben didn't move, I put my hand on his chest to make sure it was rising and falling. It was. He's okay.

Four

When we wake up tomorrow morning, our little Harrison Benjamin, the kid with the backwards president name and the penchant for poop jokes, will be four years old.

I could take this post so many places.

I could, for example, wallow in nostalgic exclamations about how Harry used to be only as long as my forearm, or that in the womb, my doctor said, he was a cuddler because he jammed his entire body under my ribs and scrunched himself up so tight his ears looked like pie crusts for 3 days after he was born, or that when he was a baby and wore Robeez without socks, his fat little feet would stink like vinegar when we took off his shoes.

I could relive his sit-com style birth and remember how I was sitting on my sofa watching Last Comic Standing and playing Sim City, hanging out with my brother Jon while Ben was in Minneapolis on business. I was 36 weeks pregnant and my water burst suddenly, stunning me and my brother who played it so cool at the hospital but kept calling Ben to scream "Where ARE you?" as Ben raced home in the dark, trying not to hit deer. When a nurse came in to check me while we were still in triage, Jon discretely left the room because he didn't want to see anything weird, and he ran right into a woman who was bending over in a backless hospital gown to vomit in a bedpan. But I already did the nostalgia thing on the eve of Harry's first birthday.

I could definitely bitch about the cake we ordered in the shape of a super hero that turned out to look a lot like a dead superhero.

Ben imitated it really well at Harry's party

The cake was simultaneously disappointing, creepy, hilarious, and delicious.


I could even link to old posts that show you how freaking clueless Ben and I were when Harry was little or how cute he has been on previous birthdays.

Instead of all those directions, though, I think I will do what I usually do and show you a ton of pictures, many of which have nothing to do with the point of this post.

Like this one of Jack staying classy

Harry and Jack at Jack's Little Gym show




We had fun watching Jack show off the skills he has mastered this semester (like learning to count to 3 before he hurls himself off of high surfaces, which at east gives us a little warning and a chance of catching him). I have been attending at least one (and sometimes 2) Little Gym classes a week since February 2007, and I am hereby announcing my retirement (for the time being). I am excited to take a break from the big! red! mat! even though we have had a ton of fun there.

After LG, we hit Harry's ballet class, also the last of the term.



Harry fell over immediately after I snapped the above picture:

I love his serious dancer face

This is the start of his totally awesome bow


We started Harry's birthday party Saturday with a pre-fest lunch with Jamie and Ben's parents at Jack's favorite pizza place (where of course Jack didn't eat a damn thing because he is going through this phase where he doesn't eat and only wants to sit on my lap at restaurants).


Then we moved on the the LIttle Gym for a bash with kids from both of Harry's preschool classes and his cousins, which was high energy and adorable
Look how red Harry was just 5 minutes into the festivities

They did this thing where all of the kids had to introduce themselves and then give Harry a high five while wishing him Happy Birthday-- it made everyone feel a little awkward.

The teachers led the kids in a pirate warm up. Hilarity ensued.






Here's Lucy "hitting the deck" and taking her pirate duties seriously

The rock wall was a popular hiding spot during hide and go seek

Twice

Jack is a monkey

Who likes older ladies

As usual balls and bubbles blew everyone's minds

In between activities, the teachers told the kids to sit by the birthday wall (they even sang a song about it!) while they transitioned the equipment. And the kids? Listened! I am naming a wall in my house the birthday wall.

The Air Track was a huge hit, natch



As I was running out the door to pick up party stuff yesterday, Ben yelled after me to buy birthday hats because he reasoned we don't have very many birthdays left where the kids will wear them so seriously. And he was right. By the time all the parents filed into the party room for snacks and cake, the little zombies had all donned their celebratory cones.

Aughhhh!! So. Freaking. Creepy.

Aren't they cute?

Aren't we cute?

We adjourned to our house to open presents (because we didn't have time to do it at the gym), and Harry was very sweet and serious (Jack was suffering from cake coma and was facedown in his crib).

The grown ups really loved the puppets


Worn out from all the gifts, Harry requested the face of his cake. Because he thinks Ed Gein is awesome.

And Harry and Jack loved them this morning, when they treated Ben and me to the first of what I can only imagine will be many
puppet shows.




The boys are both asleep, and Ben and I are getting ready to wrap the gifts we bought for Harry. He'll open those when he wakes up, and we'll have peanut butter silk pie for breakfast (best.food.ever). Tomorrow night we're taking Harry out for a "fancy dinner" at the restaurant of his choosing-- he cant decide if he wants Olive Garden or Longhorn Steakhouse, but he knows he wants to wear his blazer and a Star Wars t-shirt from Gap Kids that's so big it hangs down to his knees (they didn't have his size, but he HAD to have the shirt).

Before he went to bed, Harry asked Ben if he was going to break his bed because he expects to be so big when he wakes up four tomorrow. We assured him he wouldn't and told him four will be his best year yet.