From the Archive: Gluttony and Other Sins

This post first appeared on December 28, 2008

Here's Jack trying to crawl on Christmas Eve. He can go backwards really well, but to go forward, he sits up, throws himself on his stomach, sits up, and then does it again.

Harry is totally impossible to photograph these days

Here he is next to the weird plate of food he left for Santa-- Rice Krispie treat, fudge, carrots, a green pepper, and milk. He also left a multimedia art project mainly made by me and Ben--Harry was busy flinging pipe cleaners across the room and sticking little googley eyes in odd places. Note-- he is not wearing a fireman's jacket. It's a Santa coat, and don't you forget it.

Jack was not as ready to go open presents at 5:45 on Christmas morning as a certain two-point-five-year-old who will remain nameless

He admirably yawned his way through his stocking

And then just sort of patted boxes and looked vague until naptime

Harry ripped through all of his presents and then demanded that I assemble them. Then he knocked Jack over and took all his toys. Christmas really brought out the best in him

Ben and Jack both liked Spike the Dinosaur quite a bit. Harry claimed that Spike was his new best friend, but he was more than a little scared of him-- liked him way better behind the plexiglass box at Target


Jack became his usual affable self as the morning progressed

But Harry OD'd on Fannie May Santas and adopted his brother's empty stare

Then we dressed in matching Old Navy holiday t-shirts and piled in the car to drive to Illinois and spend Christmas with the grandparents. This is the point in Jack's first Christmas where Ben and I really dropped the ball. Not only did we not buy a baby's first Christmas ornament (not even on sale the day after), but we DIDN'T TAKE ANY PICTURES OF CHRISTMAS. Except for these of Jack and Lucy


Because Harry lost his shit during present opening and never regained it, so Ben and I never had a free hand or brain cell to think about archiving our precious freaking memories.

Apparently, the fifty bajillion presents Harry opened were not enough for him-- he wanted all of Max's toys and Jack's toys, too. He would have stolen our new dish towels and wooden salad bowls, too, if we had let him.

Then he willingly went to bed at 7:00 before dessert had even been served.

So maybe it's less of a greed inspired meltdown and more of a no nap thing. (Oh! He really likes peeing in urinals, by the way-- and maybe the potty training and the fact that his increasingly mobile brother is getting more and more attention by the minute are screwing with him, too. Or, you know, maybe he is an overindulged brat.)

Here we are coddling-- uh, cuddling-- the next morning.

Harry had the most fun ever riding on this truck (Jack's) and pulling us on his new sled

He tried to pull us all, but clearly he had the most success with Jack. I include this picture, though, to show you Jack's awesome outfit, including his onesie with a tie printed on it. A power tie.

Jack and his grandma

Jack could not pull Harry, and Harry was pissed


We came home in some intense fog on the 26th and immediately removed all traces of Christmas from our house. Except for all the toys. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH ALL THE TOYS?????

From the Archive: Ear, Interfected Or The Projectile Vomit that Ate Christmas

This post originally appeared on December 21, 2007.

Well, it's been a good run. 18 antibiotic-free months. Yesterday, however, Harry took his first dose of amoxicillin because he has his first ear infection. Also his first stomach virus. Also his first case of viral pink eye. Also his first cold of the cold and flu season. (And no, thanks, we're not total idiots-- we know the antibiotics are only for the ears. I was merely listing the myriad illnesses Harry seems to have gathered recently. Make that simultaneously.)

I have been taking him to the gym playroom while I exercise because it is too icy and generally sucky outside to use my jogging stroller, which is pretty much what I have done since Harry was born. This has been happening 5 times a week for the past 2.5 weeks-- so like 12 visits to the playroom. That's the only change we have made to his routine, and voila-- infectious disease central. I realize that the ear infection is not contagious, but the vomit and the gooey eye? VIRAL. Everyday there's a kid (not the same kid, either) in there with a wet hacking cough and a green crusty nose. A kid whose parents must not see the sign that says to leave your sick kids at home or read the playroom policies in the contract they signed to be members of said gym. A kid whose parents decide, instead, to let their sick kids infect other kids who can now infect even more kids.

Which means, yes, you guessed it, Harry will be infectious for the holidays. I asked the doctor if we could travel Sunday and Monday to spend Christmas with family. I said there would be other little kids, and I asked if Harry would be contagious and if we could go. The doctor laughed--- LAUGHED--- and said, "Oh yeah, he'll be contagious. But they're YOUR relatives..."

Ben and I bit our nails and hemmed and hawed. I mean, we have wrapped gifts to distribute. I made us all get matching sweaters. We made candy and cookies. We are ready for the holiday season, damn it, and we have been planning on-- counting on-- looking forward to spending it with family. We thought he'd probably feel and look fine by Sunday, so we could just keep quiet about the viruses he's harboring and spreading. Wash his hands a lot. Hope he and his cousin are still in the parallel play phase. And then go straight to hell for turning a joyous celebration of family into a sick-making infectafest. LIke those chicken pox parties people used to have-- but the thing about those parties? People KNEW they were bringing their kids over to get pocked.

So, we 'fessed up about virotoddler. and it looks like we'll be seeing Harry's grandparents this weekend(hopefully, fingers crossed, if Harry feels okay) still but not his great grandma or his aunt, uncle, and cousin and not all of Ben's aunts, uncles, and cousins. We are completely and totally beyond bummed about this. If we were supposed to see you on Christmas Eve and are not-- we miss you! We have presents for you! We have pink eye and the stomach flu with your name on it! (kidding).

Santa, dude, why do you keep bringing Harry and Max ear infections for Christmas? I am pretty sure Max did not ask for one last year, and I know Harry didn't ask for one this year! Is it because I keep making fun of your skeezy tobacco stained beard? Everyone knows mall Santas are not really YOU-- you would never come on duty with lunch remnants in your face hair, would you?


Here's Harry eating breakfast on Wednesday-- the last meal he really enjoyed.

I should have been able to know from this stoney expression that something was up. Another way we should have known? For like 3 days, Harry has been saying eyes, nose, and ears with increasing urgency. I thought he was just trying to converse with us by screaming out some of the words he knows, but actually, I think he was saying, "Hey guys? My nose ears and eyes feel funny. Someone needs to take me to the doctor. I can't drive myself, beep, beep damn it. "


This is where I was ready to put a picture of our vomit stained bedroom, but it was too gross. Instead, here's Harry tucked in for the night Wednesday night. Don't let his coziness fool you. It was a night of trauma. I checked on Harry before bed to find him lying motionless in his crib in a pool of vomit. I freaked out, but he way okay, just gross, so we bathed him and changed his sheets and put him in our bed while his bumpers and mattress pad and stuffed animals got washed. The saddest thing? The "on" button on his Fisher Price Rain Forest crib soother was matted with puke-- apparently, he tried to turn on this soother to go back to sleep after he got sick.


Then he projectile vomited milk all over me and the bed (Ben was miraculously spared). So here he is in pajamas #3. Moments after this happy shot, he puked all over me again, resulting in sheets #3 and PJ#4. Then, as Ben was saying good night (before retreating to the couch-- COWARD, I say-- no actually, he had an early meeting and needed a few hours of sleep), Harry coughed chunks right into Ben's mouth, so we all got to share the love. And the virus.

Here he is all snuggled down last night. (Yes, we washed the sheets). We were so freaked about him choking alone in his own vomit, that we put him straight down in our bed, cutting out the middle man crib.

Moments after we took this picture, we offered him some Tylenol for his 103 degree fever, which he politely refused (the Tylenol, not the fever). We insisted. He projectile vomited.

Conjunctivitis Cookies on a poinsettia platter, anyone?

Infected fudge peanut marshmallow clusters?

Really? Okay, then. More for me.

From the Archive: Ho Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum: Merry Christmas From the Partridge in a Pear Tree

Merry Christmas 2006!

This post debuted 12 years ago on December 27

Okay-- just kidding. It's not a partridge in a pear tree. Where the heck would I find one of those? VH1, I guess. It's me, Harry. Check out my haul-- and that's only part of it. A closet. My kingdom for a closet. That's what my mom says, anyway. It's been awhile since my last post, but you'll have to forgive my mom. She's really tired because I have decided not to sleep. As you can see, it was tough for me to be away from my sweet crib (I've given you a tour, so you know just how sweet it is).

I'm getting better, but I am still not my champion sleeping self. So, what I am trying to say is Mom's been a bit sleepy, and even though she has about 200 pictures from last weekend, she's not going to post them all. Holidays are stressful, you know? Anywho, here I am enjoying some solids. I like squash. And prunes.



Here I am enjoying a few presents for the first night of Hanukkah. Wrapping paper is delicious.



Have I told you how much fun I have in my exersaucer?


Here I am opening my stocking on the 21st-- for the middle of Hanukkah, I guess. I got some cool toys-- very fun to bash myself in the face with.


Here's me with my Aunt Jen at my cousin Sheryl's wedding. I wish my cuz could have been there, but he was home with an ear infection.

Me and my 'rents and me and Dad.


See a resemblance?

My Great Grandma and my cousin Quinn having fun with the cool confetti on the tables.


Ha! Can't keep shoes on the amazing Shoedini!

Me with my Great Uncle and Aunt, David and Julie, and with Quinn and Allie


Me with the Bride and the Maid of Honor. Lucky me. I love weddings.


Mom and Dad left their camera behind, and they got a little souvenir

Something they don't always telly you about Santa-- he tastes as good as he looks.

Well, not this Santa. This one plays music in the bathroom at my great grandparents' house, and he makes my mom pee her pants a little everytime.

My parents amd me in our dorky Christmas outfits. My Dad's tie is musical. He got it for Hanukkah

My cousins and my great Aunt Jean by the fire at my great grandparents' house, where we all went for Christmas Eve. I got some excellent gifts (Yes, Sheryl, I am a cick magnet,thanks for noticing and my mommy ate all of the cookies Aunt Jean made-- already!), but I got really cranky, and we had to leave early.




Here I am drumming.

Here's some shots of Christine, Sheryl, Bob, Shannon, and Anthony making their Harrytimes debut.






Me eating what my doctor calls "the perfect food." Mom says a fillet wrapped in bacon is the perfect food.

Christmas morning. My mom made everyone wear these jammies. Luckily, they didn't come in my size. I suffer enough indignities.

Like this hat-- what the heck?

And this ribbon. Seriously, people.

Me and Max with his parents.

Max and me with my parents.

An action shot. Uncle Maurice and my dad missed the red shirt memo. Red shirts. Not just for freshman athletes anymore.

Opening gifts at home.




Meeting Elmo. He's a funny fellow.



Riding the tiger and drumming.




You knew it was coming...
Me and Max

Max and Me

Me and Max

Max and Me

Me and Max

Bah Humbug. That's it! See ya next week when I'll have news from the New Year in P-town!