Evidence that we will never grow up:
Jay: We should call the gas company and report an awful gas smell in our house… and that it’s coming from our son’s butt. Heh heh.
Me: We totally should. But they’ll trace the prank call to our house.
Jay: That’s why we call from Deb’s house!
Seriously. I made the mistake of pulling at the elastic of his diaper to see if there was poop – and thus unleashed upon the living room the noxious fumes that had been festering contained in their own air bubble for who knows how long. By the smell, I would guess at least the full two hours he was napping.
Baby gas is funny. Toddler gas with a stomach virus? Not so much. Phew.

Word of the day on Sesame Street: familia
What I heard: chlamydia
For a moment there I was all, “I’m for teaching them about life early, but daaaaaaaaaamn!”

Free Auntie Anne’s Pretzel
Site’s running a little slow, but essentially – send a Valentine’s Day e-card to someone, and they’ll get a coupon attached for a free pretzel. Not a bad deal – their cinnamon pretzels are pretty tasty.
Which would normally sound good if my stomach wasn’t all pretzel-twisty itself. Still struggling to get Sammy to keep anything down, and now it looks as though Jay and I are headed in that direction ourselves. It could be the lack of sleep for two nights now, the stress of a possibly dehydrated heart-baby or the virus itself, but neither one of us is doing so hot.
I’m really hoping we’re well enough tomorrow for Christine’s visit. I’m going to be really bummed if we don’t get to see her – and doubly bummed if we’re all still pukey this time tomorrow. Really – this sucks. (I was secretly hoping for a knitting lesson from her while she was here, too! I had these visions of girlie time, hanging out on my couch, chatting it up and making pretty things. Oh well.)
So – go enjoy a pretzel – and have one for me while you’re at it.

We’ve hit another milestone… of sorts.
Sammy managed to snag the latest round of (fill-in-the-blank)-virus. Norovirus, rotavirus – who knows? What we do know is that it came on full force with hours of endless vomit fun last night. We actually gave Sammy some fluids just so he would have something to throw up, because really – those dry heaves really can’t be doing much good for anyone. Midnight found us fully-dressed, car running to warm up and a whole lot of should-we-shouldn’t-we take him to the ER. We decided to wait it out – which was good, because the pukefest subsided a bit, and there was no need to expose him to even more germy air in a hospital waiting room.
And then – after a night of very little to no sleep for mama and daddy – came the stench. I should have known what was headed our way when I heard the little belly gurgle coming from the swing next to our bed. Still – it was no fair warning for the 7am diaper full of liquidy yellow nastiness. We’re talking up-the-front and settled-into-his-belly-button… I can’t even call it poop. It was a physical manifestion of the gastrointestinal festival having a throw-down in his little body.
His heartrate was elevated all night, too, which made me really nervous. So at 7:30 I called his cardiologist, with whom we’re now on a first-name basis. Seriously – I wouldn’t be surprised if we have our own special ringtone. Apparently, this rise is a good thing – it’s a sign that his sinus node is working well and responding as it should to the dehydration. (You may remember – there was talk of a possible pacemaker at his last surgery.) We’ve got to watch for any more elevation, and if it hits 150-160, we’ll need to bring him in for fluids. Good times!
I called his pediatrician right after – I know they have a special ring for us, and I can see the eye-rolls and the paper-rock-scissors “you take this call” that I’m certain fly around the office when they hear it. When I told the nurse of his symptoms – in full gory detail, of course – she said that they didn’t need to see him, that it’s the exact thing they’re seeing in all the kids, it’s got a 24-48 hour onset and to give him small amounts of fluids every 20 minutes. It should be over in a day or so.
24-48 hours puts us at Keegan’s birthday party on Sunday. With lots of kids. I made the requisite phone calls to the other moms (that I know) this morning to give them fair warning – yet another milestone in the parenting world, I’m sure. Hi, this is Sammy’s mom, just wanted you to know that he’s got an awful stomach bug… uh huh… yeah… I know he was slobbering all over your child.. it’s just that he loves kids so much… so yeah… yeah… lots of puke… I’m sorry… just wanted you to be able to keep an eye out… yeah… just carry a puke-bucket around with you… and there will be a stench… I hear sniffing coffee beans should help clear your nose…sorry… so sorry.
Otherwise, he’s playing fine and is just a little sleepier than normal. Jay’s home with us today, so I’m sure there will be lots of vegging on the couch, Little Einsteins and praying that we don’t come down with it ourselves.

My child refuses to nap.
Hell, he pretty much refuses to sleep. Well, at least he refused last night. Up at 10. 11. 12. 1. I gave up and put him in his swing because let’s face it – I’m all for teaching him to sleep in his crib, but at some point, I become meltdown-mama and desperately need sleep in order to remain sane enough to take care of him the next day.
Which was good – because man, he is wired today. I mean, crawling full-speed around the house, babbling and screeching and racing from one toy to the next and then back. He decided to feed himself lunch, and while he did well, he thought it was sheer hilarity that he dumped two ounces of juice into his lap and smeared avocado goodness all over his head.
And then we danced. A lot. He’s learned the sign for “more” – which I thought was a great thing, until I would put him down, winded (because mama’s still way too out of shape) – and he’d make the sign for “more” and then raise his arms to be picked up and whisked around the living room again. I had hoped it would tire him out, but no luck. More, mama. Pick me up, I want to dance more!
After too many songs, I set him down in the kitchen so I could clean up from lunch. I bought him the Leap Frog Fridge Phonics today (on sale for more than half off!) – perhaps a bit old for him, though he did learn very quickly how to put the letter into the right little slot. This, of course, wasn’t nearly as much fun as standing at the fridge, squealing and screaming, flailing his arms about, sending magnets flying every which way. Squeeeeeeeee!
He has rolled around, babbled and chewed on his blanket for the last half-hour. No sign of a nap. His normal two-hour noontime nap was approximately twenty minutes. I’d say he’s overtired, but he’s just not.
I, however, am running on just about four hours of anything that resembles real sleep. I’d beg him to close his eyes, but I think he’d just fall over in giggles. Not that I’m not totally enjoying this little stage, but man – just fifteen minutes. Mama needs just fifteen minutes to close her eyes…
One month until he’s a toddler. Shouldn’t I have at least four weeks of a somewhat sane household before he starts terrorizing things, tearing toys off of shelves and ripping the tail off the cat?

Hard to believe it’s already been three years ago today:

It was fascinating – he finally burst through and the rest of him followed so quickly. Here was this little person that was made in her belly! A little person that’s all Alisa and Tom! A little boy we had been waiting so long to meet – he was here!
The most wonderful thing, though, was definitely seeing Alisa’s face once she saw him – all those hours and hours of pain and exhaustion disappeared, and she was glowing – her little man was here and she could hold him, and all those hours and all those contractions and every incredible ounce of pain were worth every little finger and every little toe and every little blink of his little eyes. Incredible.

We love watching you growing and changing into such a fantastic little boy. Happy birthday magical little Keegan!

There’s a song by Eddie from Ohio with the line, “II’ll make my child promise not to grow too fast and I’ll promise not to blink.” Makes me bawl every time I hear it. The other night, Sammy was asleep between us in the bed, and through near-tears, I said to Jay, “Soon he’ll be too big to sleep with us like this.” Jay replied that we had plenty of time before that happens. And he’s right. But the point is – it will happen. And that makes me cry.
On some level, I know it’s tied to the fear of losing him. I’m sure it’s why I have a hard time with the idea of leaving him with anyone – I don’t want to miss a single moment. I’m still scared that the other shoe is going to drop. I’m scared that something new will develop and we won’t catch it. I’m scared that they’ll tell us he’s not a candidate for the next surgery. I’m scared that something will happen during the next surgery. I’m scared that his heart is going to grow weak. I’m scared that we won’t have enough time with him and I will have wasted precious moments without him. And I’m scared for all the normal parent fears, too – other illness. Kidnappers. Car accidents. Freak accidents.
Is this healthy? Probably not. But on the other hand, my days aren’t filled with an anxious need to hug him and hold him tight. I truly enjoy being a SAHM. I never thought I would, but I do. I used to be the one who took on too much, was always running around, never slowing down. Now, each day is an exercise in keeping it mellow, enjoying each moment. It’s a complete change for me, one I think I needed.
Do I still fear that I’m not truly and fully living in each single moment with him? Sure. Do I, deep down, hold on to some idea that I’m going to homeschool him? Definitely, though I wouldn’t because I don’t want him to feel any different from his peers than he may already. Do I feel guilty when I put him down on his own so I can get a few things done? Hell yeah. Those are moments I should be savoring with him.
I’m trying not to blink, but he’s growing so fast. On one hand, I’m so grateful for that. This time last year we didn’t know if we would be coming home with him, and to watch him grow and learn and take on each milestone is so wonderful and so comforting on so many levels. On the other hand, I want him to slow down because before I know it, we’ll be facing another surgery. And then preschool. And then he’ll have a life separate from me. And I’m not ready for that.

Some freebies/samples:

• Coffeemate – sign up for a coupon for a free bottle
  
• Dove Ultimate Clear Anti-Perspirant
  
• Dove Cool Moisture Body Wash and Lotion
  
• Advanced White Toothpaste
  
• Biz Detergent
  
• Schick Quattro Midnight Razor for Him
  
• Noxema 4-Blade Razor
  
• 12 oz Sample of Purina ProPlan Selects dog food
  
• Head Organics Shampoo or Gel

A few deals:
FREE: Put a link to adagio teas on your site and get free tea. (This is legit – Jay and I both got the tea sets for free and we LOVE them!) The info is here.
Amazon.com: The GROCERY4 code is good for $10 off $49 or more in the grocery section.
We buy Seventh Generation diapers and wipes from Amazon. Take $20 off $99 or more of Seventh Generation products with the code SEVENGEN. This is stackable (can be used in conjunction) with the code GROCERY4 for an additional $10 off – $30 off $99 worth of Seventh Generation products. A FANTASTIC deal.
(I believe you could also stack the GROCERY4 code with HUGGIE3O ($30 off $99 or more of select Huggies, Pull-Ups, or Goodnites). You’d have to try it out, though. If it does work, that’s $40 off $99 – not too shabby!)
Use code TCLKMJFK for 10% off at Target.com (expires 1/24).
Winkflash has 100 photo prints for $1 shipped. New customers only. Code is CA59WT43.
Office Depot – $20 off, $100 minimum. Code is 53368487.
Sign up for Google Checkout and get $10 towards your first purchase of $10 or more (before shipping & tax) from participating stores.
That’s it for now. Have fun!

As a mom whose 10-month-old son has recently discovered the Wiggles (and who is in stage four herself, hence landing on The Seven Phases of Wiggles Watching after a search for “wiggles fan club mom”) – this is perhaps the funniest thing I’ve read in a long, long time.

4. You become obsessed with The Wiggles. You read their website and are shocked to learn they are all in their 40s and that Murray, Greg and Anthony (sigh) are married. You suspect Jeff is gay. Actually, you’d suspected all of them were gay. You read their extensive touring schedule and speculate that their pretty choreographer, who is also their lead dancer, must certainly be sleeping with at least one of them. You imagine a Wiggles orgy. You realize you need to get a life. You consider switching off the show, but can’t because your baby loves The Wiggles.

I can honestly say, however, that the thought of a Wiggles orgy just simply, well, wiggs me out.
Also amusing on the Wiggles front: How Would You Tell Your Kids a Wiggle Died? (One response: “Well, Greg and Jeff were very much in love, and sometimes when two people are in love, it ends…badly…”) Or how about Being Daddy’s parody Wiggles Wiggle out of Wiggles?

“No one had ever seen anything like them,” asserts Perry Farrell of Jane’s Addiction, who helped establish the band in America when he booked them for Lollapalooza’s second stage in 1996. “Cold spaghetti, hot potatoes, and mashed banana? F—, no one was quite ready for anything that revolutionary. They just tore the lid off of what was possible.”

Or how about the woman who plans on protesting the 2007 London concert because the Wiggles are sexist:

“Kids these days look up to so many idols from an earlier age and here is a prime opportunity for the Wiggles to show kids that women can be a part of the Wiggles lineup.” Greer added.

And for any deep down desire to keep up with the latest Wiggles gossip, there’s the Wiggles Fan Site. And the Wikipedia on the Wiggles: Did you know that frontman Greg was actually only a roadie for the group before they became the kids’ phenomenon? Or that in the opening minute of the first episode of My Name Is Earl, the Wiggles’ “Do The Monkey” can be heard playing in the car that is soon to be robbed by Earl?
I know I brought it on myself, but – make it stop. Please.