Obligated

I do believe that, as the parent of an official one-year-old, you are obligated to post photos of your kid's first birthday cake eating experience. It's in the rules of parenting. Rule number 427: Thou shalt post photos of birthday cake eating, thereby embarrassing your child forever more. Or something like that.

I'm not positive Dex was impressed with his cupcake. You decide.

The look after his first bite of cake. Kind of a "are you serious? I'm supposed to eat this?" look.

My boy is a gamer, though. He goes back in for more.

If at first you aren't sure, just cram in more cake...

Hmmmmm. Maybe it's ok?

Nope. No, I take it back. It's still not really ok.

Third time's a charm, right?

Ummm. No. I think we have our verdict. Dex is not a fan of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Sorry buddy. More for me!

Much happier eating a green teething ring. Much tastier for his one-year-old taste buds and his two new one-year-old molars.

I also believe as the parent of an official one-year-old I am obligated to write a post about how cute and huge and ONE Dex is, and how I can't believe it, and how much I've loved the past year and... Can I just take a nap first? We had a busy weekend, and it's time to go to bed. I'll get back to you with that obligatory "my kid is SOOOOO OOOOOLD" post in a few days, kay?

Cuteness, Times Two

John came to My Gym to play with Dex and I today. The cuteness factor in the room increased significantly when he walked in to join us...

Hey, Mom! Found a ball! In a tunnel!

Whoa. That's a long way down.


Hey, Dad, check out how well I climb the slide!

Wheeeee!

That was fun, Dad!


Checking out the huge pit of balls that Dex loves to eat

More climbing

Put me down, Dad! I don't wanna leave yet!

WOW-zah

I just called John and told him I thought I was going to have to take his son to the emergency room for the first time. But then I used my little brain and saved the day. No ER visit needed. What, pray tell, was the problem? The very small child stuck his very small finger (although, his fingers are considerably larger now than when we first gave him the ball to play with) in the hole of a very small whiffle ball. And the aforementioned finger would not come out.

I went in to the pack-n-play room to get Dex out of play time and clean up his mess. He looked at me and held up his hand. Hey, look! I have a ball on my finger! Why, yes, cute child. Look at that. A ball. On your finger. Let's just take that off now, shall we?

Except it wouldn't come off. Would not budge. Protesting child was squirming in my lap as I took him in to the bathroom, hoping that some hand soap would do the trick. Nope. No good. What else do we have that is slippery? Lotion? Oooh! I know! Personal lubricant!

We happen to have a stash in Dexter's room. Typically used to lubricate the rectal thermometer. Today, used to slather all over a small finger, in hopes that I could pry the ball off without doing any further harm. All the while I am imaging taking him to the ER, with a ball attached to his finger, and wondering how THEY would remove it.

Fortunately after a minute of wiggling, the ball popped right off. Finger is fine. Gave the very small child some Motrin, held his hand under cold water for a bit. He is now sleeping away, with the injured finger held fast in his mouth (it was his prime sucking finger, of course).

It's been a hell of a week. Why do kids need teeth, really? Couldn't they just get dentures? Or couldn't teeth just all come at once? All 20 of them? At a time that is not also cold and flu season? These molars, man. They are kicking my ass. I feel bad for the poor whiny child who is constantly batting at his ears. But at the same time - OMG, the WHINING! Make it STOP! And how much Motrin and Tylenol am I allowed to give the child before it makes holes in his stomach or something?

The bad thing is that only ONE molar has broken through. And it's taken at least a week for that to happen. So am I going to have to deal with the whiny man for three more weeks? Ugh. Let's hope it gets better, because right now... WOW. Just... Wow.

Fortunately, Dex is still ridiculously cute, as seen here:

Pay no attention to the bruise on his forehead. Let's just say that we're learning that he needs to wear shoes. ALWAYS.

Driving a car takes fierce concentration

Close to being on his way to another bruised forehead. Mom grabbed a leg, saved the day.

I think the water comes out the other end, buddy. Just guessing here, but you might have more luck if you turned the cup over...

Good Dog

It's 12:45 AM. I hear CoCo scramble around her dog bed next to me, then hear a thunk as she falls down. I look over the side of the bed and see her standing completely still, looking in to the corner. I reach down and pet her. No reaction.

I tumble out of bed and sit on the floor next to her. Pet her some more. Try to lay her down. She yelps and hops back up to a standing position. She otherwise is very very still. I start to do the instinctual "shhhhh" sounds to her. Which, I don't know why. She can't hear, anyway.

John wakes up. Is everything ok? No, something is wrong with the dog.

He turns the light on and leans over the side of the bed. Pets CoCo and does the same instinctual "shhhhh" sounds. Still nothing. We pick up all four feet. She won't move them herself. I pick her up and hug her in my arms. John looks in to her cloudy brown eyes.

I don't think she can see, he says. He waves his hand in front of her face. Nothing. Her eyes are doing weird things - kind of bulging out of her head, and moving side to side rapidly.

Should we take her to the vet? John calls the emergency hospital. Yes, they are open. Call them before we leave, if we're going to bring her. Should we bring her? I don't know. I don't know. It's silly, but part of me doesn't want to take her to the vet because I am so afraid she'll never come home.

John brings a biscuit. CoCo takes it in her mouth, but she can't chew. The biscuit falls to the floor. OK, that's it. Let's take her to the vet. Let's gather up the baby and bring him, too. John doesn't trust me to drive myself. I am sobbing and maybe can't see clearly.

I carry her downstairs and set her on the floor. She walks. She walks over to her chair and clumsily jumps up in it. Huh. OK. Maybe she's not too bad.

We get all ready to go. Pack milk for the baby. Put shoes on. I have my coat on, and go over to put CoCo's collar and leash on. She smells a rat. Gets up, goes and hides in the corner.

Now we second-guess. How bad is she? Do we need to go now, or can she wait til morning? I lay on the floor with her while John looks up "strokes in dogs." The symptoms fit. The treatment? None, really. MRI needed to find a cause. Anesthesia needed to get MRI. Old dog can't handle the anesthesia - it would probably kill her. So we can't really do anything for her anyway.

I put her outside. She pees, poops. Walks up the stairs. A bit wobbly, but not too bad. She eats a biscuit. OK, she can stay home. Let's go back to bed, old dog. You stay on the floor so you don't jump down off the bed and fall over.

In the morning, we both look over to where she is lying. Is she breathing? Is she ok? I give her a pat on the head. Still warm. Chest rises, falls. Just sleeping. When she finally stirs, she sits up, looks at me groggily, stretches and rises. Takes one unbalanced little stagger. Stops, rights herself. Then shuffles off in her usual "it's early and my body isn't warmed up yet" walk. She makes it down the stairs by herself. She eats her biscuit. She's a little wobbly, perhaps, but otherwise fine.

I call the vet. Her usual super-vet doesn't work on Mondays. The office I've been to before is full. Try their Edgewood office, they say. John says be careful in Edgewood. Don't get shot. Edgewood has an opening we can make if we leave the house RIGHTNOW. Change clothes, gather up dog and baby, and off we go, flying down Rt 40.

Dr. Jacobs listens to her history and to her episode last night. She's 18? Yes. Really? Dr. Jacobs can't believe it. She listens to her heart. Fine. Takes her blood pressure. Perfectly normal. CoCo is wandering around the vet's office, eating Pupperoni. She looks great. Amazing, Dr. Jacobs says over and over again, shaking her head in disbelief. Absolutely amazing. Unbelievable.

There's nothing to be done for the old girl. Keep an eye on her. Keep a log of this, and any subsequent episodes. It was likely a seizure, says Dr. Jacobs.

She's taking her normal afternoon nap. She's the same old CoCo we know and love. She's fine. She's still living up to her end of the bargain. She's going to live forever. Good dog.
Both photos from this post were taken this afternoon. See? She's fine. I hope.

Sick Day

We're all still nursing colds in the Norman house. Dex went to the doctor on Wednesday and came home with a right ear infection diagnosis. To which the doctor said "Bring him in again if the antibiotics don't make him better in a couple days." C'mon, doc. I had NO idea he had an ear infection to begin with, and you want me to bring in if he's not better in a couple days? How am I to know?

Anyway, we've been laying low a bit this week. No swimming, no My Gym, no play dates. But does that mean we've just been laying around at home being bored? Oh, no no! We keep ourselves highly entertained, thank you. There's oodles of doors to be opened and closed in this house!

Who Took My Child and Traded Him for Ernie From Sesame Street?

This is kind of a nightly routine. And funny. Every. Time.

Picture Time!

I know, I know. You must think it's picture time ALL the time in our house. I actually haven't had the camera out in a few days, though. I've been slacking.

Anyway - what I really meant is that it was picture time over the holidays, and I didn't take the pictures. We had both families down to visit for Christmas (at different times - our house might have burst apart if we tried to fit that many people at once) so we went to two different portrait studios and had two different sets of portraits taken. Which place do you like better?

The Norman Family went to the Picture People at the White Marsh Mall. It was crowded and busy, but the people were nice, and they gave us oodles of free prints because they messed up our order. PLUS - White Marsh Mall has way better shopping!

The whole Norman fam. Baby not smiling worth a damn, but instead giving the photographer the "what the hell are you doing, lady?" look.

Our little Norman family. After baby meltdown. If you click on the picture to blow it up you'll notice the nice rivulets of snot under his nose.

Cute original Norman family

Nonna and Grandpa, who celebrated 50 years of marriage in 2009.

There was no use even trying to get individual shots of Dexter this day. He would have none of it. Meltdown imminent if he left Mom's arms for a split second. He was, however, an angel at Ruby Tuesday's for lunch. AFTER pictures were done.

The Cowan family went to Portrait Innovations at Harford Mall. Bigger, less crowded. Changing backgrounds, same person who took the pictures stayed with us for an hour while we picked pictures to print. Baby kept his shit together MUCH better this day, and we had a few tricks up our sleeves to get him to smile a little bit. This place was more expensive, but gets brownie points for giving us a free CD of all our images. Which really is all I need, anyway, as John has put a ban on any further picture frames in our house. So I have to go digital.

Also, bonus! Portrait Innovations is right next to Five Guys! OF COURSE we had to go there for lunch!

The extended Cowan family, with a white background.

And on a blue background.

Our little Norman family. And look! No snot under Dex's nose! He MAY even have a touch of a smile. What was Aunt Jeanne doing back behind the photographer to make him smile?

Grandma and Grandpa, who celebrated 40 years of marriage in 2008.

The original Cowan family. I'm the cute one. Also, the short one.

Sisters. Sideways. Sorry. Flip your laptop around if you want a better look.

Aunt Jeanne gives Dex a pep talk - NO CRYING! LOOK CUTE!

We changed our clothes, got Hokie'd up, and took a few more pictures. Ummm. The baby looks a bit drugged up and spacey. I think he was probably looking at the HUGE bear Grandpa had and just thinking "Whoa. What the hell." But, hey - John and I are cute.

How ridiculously cute is THIS?

Cutest. Child. Ever. How'd we get a smile? Dad had to do a nice smoker's cough, multiple times, behind the photographer. Apparently imminent death is hysterical.

I R Smart

It's been cold here the past few weeks, and every time I go walking with the baby I feel bad because part of his legs stick out, at the bottom of his snow suit. It's limited me to the stroller for walks, so I can wrap a blanket around him. But I don't like walking with the stroller as well as with the backpack. And the other day the stroller and my car were at the garage getting fixed, so I HAD to use the backpack. I did my best bundling, but still some cute little baby legs were poking out. What I really needed, I decided, were some leg warmers for the baby. A friend had found some for her baby at Target - girl's leg warmers, but still. I could handle that.

I didn't go to Target, though. Far too fancy, and they don't have groceries. So I checked out Wal-Mart. Of course. I wandered through all three rows of baby crap. Socks. Tights. Bibs. Sippy cups. But no leg warmers. Dejected, I went to the other end of the store for Wal-Mart brand butt paste (which, really, you'd think you could pick up in the BABY section. But NO. You have to go way the hell over to the Health and Beauty section). As I was walking I pondered my dilemma. If only I had longer socks for him. Like baby tube socks or something. I'd at least feel better about his little legs being less exposed.

And then... EUREKA! I remembered! I OWN SOCKS! Like nice, thick Smartwool socks. Surely MY socks would cover up his exposed areas of leg? And also go over his shoe, thus keeping his feet warmer? AND - bonus! - they would be FREE! Because they are currently sitting in my sock drawer! Amazing!

Seriously. It took me three weeks of walking with the baby in the cold, and a walk across Wal-Mart thinking about leg warmers, to come up with this idea, folks. Oy. I have issues. I may need a new brain.

Huh? What are these things on my legs?

They are warm. They are on my legs. I will name them... LEG WARMERS!

See? They do the trick quite nicely. No exposed leg under the snow suit. Also, slightly displeased dog who would like the baby to let go of the end of her leash, thankyouverymuch.

In other news:

HEADLINES

Both Parents Sick. Barely Functioning.

Baby Going on Hunger Strike. Cutting Two Teeth.

One Inch Blanket of Snow Hits Maryland, Cripples Commuters and Delays Schools.

BREAKING NEWS: Baby Also Sick. Inability to Breathe Through Nose Leads to Nursing Rebellion.

Yeah. It's been a good day. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night. Good thing Dex is cute.

At Least One of Us is Going to the Gym

I don't have any 2010 resolutions. I really haven't thought about it. So I don't feel terrible that when everyone else in the world is getting gym memberships and committing themselves to a healthier lifestyle this year (or at least this week) I am still procrastinating on getting back in to my Jillian workouts. I was doing great before Christmas. And then we had company so I couldn't work out because my work out space was being slept in. And then I was sick. And now? I'm not sure. I'm going to go with... There's sawhorses in the basement? That are in the way? And obviously way too hard to move three feet to one side so I can do some jumping jacks? Or something?

Anyhow, I am the epitome of sloth-dom right now. And John isn't doing much better than I am. We both suck. But the baby? Oh, the baby. He's kicking some ass. He apparently MADE his New Year's resolution and he's sticking right to it. More physical exercise? You got it, baby. He's currently signed up for a class at My Gym on Thursdays. And he'll go to an hour of free play there on Wednesdays. PLUS he just started swimming lessons again this evening. Add in some random play dates, library hour, etc... I am already feeling like a soccer mom, carting my child from place to place, with a calendar chock-full of events. It leaves us little time for boredom.

The following are some photos from a birthday party for Dexter's friend, at My Gym the other night. It was kind of my litmus test for Dexter to see if he was ready to cash in the My Gym gift card that Grandma and Grandpa gave him for Christmas. He started off a bit hesitant, but passed the test with flying colors.

Dex was a little unsure when I dropped him on the floor at My Gym and said "go play" but he eventually found some balls and all was right with the world... ;-)

Actually, the swing really helped shake out any remaining nerves he had

And after the swing he was off and running. Fun tunnel thing? No problem!

Huge ball that is bigger than he is? Piece of cake! He even stole it away from another kid. That's my boy!

Self-admiration in the mirror? But of course.

Here's a little video I took using my camera (I always forget the little camera has that option). I am pretty sure, if you listen closely, that Dex is saying "HEY! MOM! Put me on that slide thingy! RIGHT! NOW!" He's a loud, demanding little booger. Also ridiculously cute.