Last night was...

...AH-MA-ZING! Dinner, wine, dessert, ambiance- I felt like an adult again! It was an absolute treat.

As Brobee, from Yo Gabba Gabba, would say, "So there's a party in my tummy."

Though Little Man was at a grandparent slumber party last night, I still woke up at 3:30. I am programmed to check on him at this time. And while I knew he was elsewhere, I promise I heard him on the baby monitor. While getting a glass of water in the kitchen, I heard a little cry- the sound he makes rolling around, trying to find his binkie. Weird. Very weird.

It's Date Night Time

Little Man is heading to his grandparents house tonight, and Jesse and I are getting dressed up! He took his suit to the cleaners; I found a little black dress that fits... so it's time to indulge a bit. Our splurge- The Fat Canary!

Townies know this place as the sophisticated sibling of the Cheese Shop, a local institution made famous for its tasty, tasty eats. The Fat Canary takes gourmet to next level. I had to promise Jesse that I wouldn't act like a Top Chef judge during dinner. Frankly, I only pretend to be a foodie. I wish I were that cool.

My cell phone ate some carbs last night.

Look at those fork skills. He's pretty good, when focused, at stabbing nuggets and mashed potato lumps. Though I think his favorite use of the fork is as a javelin. Miles only wants to use the "big peoples" forks; those little plastic forks just don't fly the same distance as the silverware.

He growls, he asks for shoes, he says bye-bye...

... what else could a mother ask for??? For real, that is his best, sustained baby tiger growl to date. Yes, we've been practicing. And, to top it off, Miles knows how to cover his coughs. We has taught to "catch his cough" at playgroup. Love it. Love it all, especially the boy (with sharp teeth like a baby tiger).

Picking Pumpkins- sorta, part 3

That dark sky should have been omen enough for me to realize that yesterday was not a good day for pumpkin picking. But noooo, I wanted my cool photos. Luckily, I got a few before Miles had a Three Miles(s) Island style meltdown. All he wanted to do was crawl and kick the orange balls (ie pumpkins). When we first walked on the field, Miles did the sing for "ball" for a good two minutes. He didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to roll said "balls" around. Seeing that I don't know how to sign, "Hey kid, it's only a gourd," we had a rough visit. Miles was happy cruising around a clearing in the field, picking up old corn husks. It's cool- they are gluten-free. Tantrum, however, did ensue when we air lifted him out of the section of pre-picked pumpkins. It had to be done because little man was having a BLAST knocking the big orange "balls" into one another. The owners must have been shivering in their boots, or at least keeping silent tally on a calculator. Anyways, when I picked Miles up, he unleashed all of the frustration onto my upper left arm. As his weapons of choice were not fussy shrieks and tiny balled fists. Oh no, his four front teeth latched onto me Jurassic Park style. Surprise- he's a veloca-baby in disguise. I was so shocked that I couldn't even scream. He's never done that before- biting because he was mad. In silent anguish, I walked my bruised arm and ego to the car, quickly handed Miles over to Jesse, and proclaimed that I was too angry to talk for the next 20 minutes.

And the saddest part of all... we never got a pumpkin from the patch. Scratch that. The saddest part of all... my left arm still hurts today. Do you think I can pay a dentist to glue in a mouth guard into his mouth? Obviously for safety reasons- the safety of others' shoulders. I am seriously tempted to spend my afternoon writing a behavior plan. Could be baby's first BIP...

Skip to the end of the day following Miles' Mike Tyson impersonation (and the part of Evander Holyfeld's ear was played by my shoulder)- I am still a little rattled by the episode. He's been a bit squirrely all day, fidgety and fussy. Perhaps that's his toddler-way of saying, "My bad, mom. I still love you." Even if I am way off the mark on that reading, I am still believing it because I want to feel that my son loves me as a mommy and not as a stress release device. Any suggestions on how to curb a budding Count Dracula? I don't want biting to become his new form of communication.

Picking Pumpkins- sorta, part 2

Picking Pumpkins- sorta, part I

Goose chase- humph!

So that number the nurse gave, the one for the lead on the Thimerosal-free version of the H1N1 vaccine, was pointless. It only rang to the desks of people who had no idea what we were talking about. Sweet.

We were advised the next day by a pediatrician to go ahead and get Miles vaccinated, Thimerosal or not. Now, the county has run out of doses. Super Sweet.

Sorry for the sarcasm, but I am so over being paranoid. Literally, if I could, I would track down John Travolta's boy-in-the-bubble suit and put my whole family in there. Even the dogs, especially now that there is dog flu on the loose. Liloo (the smaller dog) would have to promise not to pass gas; her fanny fumes can make sculptures cry.

Thoughts on shots

Yesterday, I flew out of school, barely trailing the buses heading home, to race (within the speed limit, of course) across town. One of our local elementary schools was running a H1N1 flu shot clinic, open and free to the public. The whole fam arrived 30 minutes before the start, and we only had an hour wait. The line wrapped around the school. Once our section started inching forward, I could better see the folks who had hours plus of wait time hiding behind us.

As for all of us getting the shot? Nope. We held off on Miles because there were no single-doses, ie Thimerosal-free, available. However, a health department worker said that there are some currently available in the area, and she shared that number with us. Thank God one of Jesse's friends walked over to say hello, and to let us know she wasn't letting her 20 month old get vaccinated last night because everything (except the nasal spray, which both of our kids are too young to receive) contained Thimerosal. I wasn't thinking clear enough to research this shot before making us line up; I was running on pure paranoia. As a teacher, I see lots of germy grossness, and typically I can take it all in stride. This year is a bit different: I am armed with Lysol, I am shopping for Haz-mat suits in fall colors, and my skin is starting to crust-off with my "every 2 minute sanitize hands" policy. OCD is coming more easily.

Spellcheck wants me to change OCD to CAD, and maybe I should. I do feel a bit like a cad for letting all the media hype scare me. But dang it, I just want to keep my kid healthy. I'll let you know what the local health department says about the availability of preservative-free H1N1 shots in the area. Hey townies, if you want that number, just let me know!

State of the Chew-nion

(Think State of the Union when reading the title.)

Foods Miles loves:

-adult sized rice cakes

-gluten-free blueberry muffins

-fruit flavored soy yogurt

-Rice Chex (duh)

-watermelon

-apple slices

-mashed potatoes

-gluten-free rice treat bars

Foods that sit the fence:

-gluten-free dino nuggets

-regular apple sauce

-sausage

-grilled cheese made with corn bread and rice cheese

Bevys of choice:

-OJ

-chilly water

-warm bottles full of toddler soy formula

And that's it. Maybe add French Onion soup to the fence sitting list. He seemed interested in the salt.

Precious moment

Last night Miles signed to Jesse and me "please" and "sleep." This is monumental for several reasons:

1. he typically fights his bed time like a demon jacked up on No Doze

2. signs are usually linked to eating activities

3. he promptly went to sleep

I am so very proud of him. Even though he was fast asleep at the time, I told him that I was proud. What excellent communication. Signing is rapidly becoming status quo in our house, and we love it! Seeing him calmly express his needs was my precious moment.

Last from the wedding

Little feet tired of being in little saddle oxfords

Though those feet weren't too tired to dance

Erin and Kristie wearing their shades at night

No cake was harmed during the exchange of bites, i.e. no mashing occurred

A luminary from another angle

Me and Miles share a dance

Hands down, the best picture I've ever taken of my husband.

More dragonfly detail

Mary and the flower girl, Bailey, await the ceremony

Just a few more from The Big Day

Twinkies were the theme of the wedding. It's a Tom Robins thing for all you readers out there in post-modern land.

Cutting a rug, on the dance floor.

Dad and daughter, couldn't be sweeter

Miles gets to sit in with the band.

Rich Whiskey Audition's newest fan: Little Man Miles!

Chuckie's new fan: Little Man Miles!

Table settings

The get-away mobile a decked out.

Sunset on the rivah, and again on the back of Clark and Katie's camera.

Sunset and things are just getting warmed up!

The evening was just a beautiful as the afternoon ceremony.

Meet the new Mr. and Mrs. Orlando!

Congratulations Mike and Mary!

The beautiful bride and my best friend for the past 20 years

Sweet looking sweets

Miles, after the ceremony, the bow tie was ditched moments after the "I do's."

A perfect day for a wonderful celebration!

I have 260 more pictures. Got a little click-happy, but can you blame me? How often does your best friend ever get hitched on a picture perfect day? That's what I thought. : )

The History of "Miles"

Saw a neat post on another blog asking for baby name histories. Thought I'd share our story:

Ahhhh... the glorious struggle between man and woman, the tug o' war of nomen wits, the clash of the baby names. Jesse and I cycled through some ridiculous options. He was set on something Russian, and I think this is because Tom Clancy is his favorite author. I wanted something more Anglican or Grateful Deadish. Also, as teacher, there are some names that I have come to loathe. Sorry parents, sometimes it's hard to love all the kids all of the time. Anyways, here is what our conversations typically sounded like:

Me: I like Alistair, Althea, Rupert...

Jesse: Stop! Let's go with Vlad, Chekhov, or Han Solo...

Me: What? How can you say no to Alistair?!? It's so "You Can't Do That on Television."

Had Miles been born a little lady, we had settled on Ellery. Though I'm not sure if that is the spelling we settled on. Still keeping that name on the back burner, so to speak, but it does sound like celery. Crunch.

As for actually settling on the name Miles for Miles was concluded by my fourth period class. I took in a list of our favorite names and asked the kids to make fun of them. Miles was the last name on our short list, and no criticism was offered. In fact, my 8th graders thought it sounded pretty cool. That is a huge seal of approval.

We have a winner! The name is a perfect fit, and this child couldn't be anything else. Certainly not a Vlad.

Is there any surprise that the little man is so musically inclined, especially with a name like that? Who knows, he might have a little brother named Duke or Smokestack Lightning someday...

First Juice Ever- seriously.

Another Jesse generated clip; might be Oscar-worthy... for the camera phone category.

More peas, please.

How do you like Jesse's cameo? He's not just the producer/ director; he's a supporting actor.

So many changes, so little time

Okay, I officially started a new job today. Back in the schools. Back in special education. Two weeks ago, this was sooooo not the plan. I was prepared to stay home with Miles, maybe work a few days a week at the public library.

Fate had other plans.

We were down to a week to find major medical insurance for the family, and prospects weren't looking good. In literally our final hour, I was offered a deal I couldn't refuse. To keep my family covered with amazing coverage- the same coverage that had us pay merely $200 out of pocket for Miles' open heart surgery.

As for staying home, Jesse will get that duty. I wish, strongly wish I could have been able to stay with Miles. However, to be the best parent I can be, I must venture out. I hope in the future Miles will know that my love manifested itself through action and time spent away. Sniff, sniff. I'm both relieved and sad right now. Why is making the right decision so painful at times? Being a big girl can be difficult.

More updates to follow when I have the time. Wish us luck!

Last item from NYC...

... it's my street-bought Fraken-bag. I believe it is a Louis Fauxton or a Guichanneli- was hard to read the invisible label under the street lights. Just kidding, Jesse snagged it for me. I was too afraid of winding up in a sting operation, too worried that writers from Law & Order had rigged the table to fuel a new episode. So I walked away unfulfilled. Jesse surprised me with this hot treat on the night before we left the big apple. The bag's "salesman" said that all ladies loves this bag and that he only had three left. Me? I say yummy. I'll have to try shimmying into some of those zebra get-ups from years of yore. College pals, you know what I am talking about. Does this bag qualify me for "The Real Housewives of Central Virginia" or do the faded Widespread Panic stickers on my car instantly disqualify me for a slot on the show? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Signs of the time

Communication is booming in the Thomas household. I fully anticipate Miles to be asking for Grey Poupon with his hands within the hour. Seriously though, the sign language has taken off. It took 14 months of Jesse and me signing to Miles with nary a reply on the baby's behalf. Now he's a veritable fountain of hand flurries, all of which mean more than just frustration and dancing.

As for the "environmental" sound at the end of the clip (aka- what does a baby tiger say?), we are working on that. His speech therapist would prefer Miles mimicking our dogs, truck sounds, ducks, etc. However, a baby tiger is a first, and it is the only animal sound our son can currently make. Does that render our family a bit odd- that our son only imitates adolescent large cats? Not in any way, it makes us Vegas 'bound, baby! Wonder if they have a Buddy Walk...