what kind of day it's been

Yes, Alabama has a history of racism that is not exactly resolved. Yes, its public schools are ranked notoriously low. And yes, the humidity and mosquitos in August are enough to make even the most hearty redneck run for cover. But DANG, it has great winters. Alabama really only has a few weeks in January that are actually cold, followed by four months of spring, six months of summer, and two months of fall. And while I may lament it by August, I really love living here this time of year.

The high today was 75*. For the past few days I've felt like a groundhog, peeking up out of my hole to see if spring is really here. We celebrated the sunshine today by having a Mom and Asher Day at the zoo. The animals were glad to see the sun, too, and seemed more curious than usual.




Doesn't it look like that big cat (cougar? maybe) is stalking my child? Isn't it a little hard to believe that wire fencing really could hold him in, should he decide to pounce?

Asher was as playful as they were. He kept holding out his hand and saying, "Come 'ere, zebra. It's okay." "Come 'ere, cougar, it's okay." Channeling Diego, as it were.



Speaking of Silly Asher stories, I have a new one for you. His grandparents gave him a toddler table and chair set for Christmas. Each chair is a different color. The blue, green, and orange chairs are treated as furniture, but the yellow one has been named. Little Fella. As in, "Come on, Little Fella," as he picks up the chair and carts it into his room. When I put the yellow chair away, Asher asked, "Where'd Little Fella go?" Sometimes other yellow things are Little Fella too, but the chair is his favorite.

But I digress. After the zoo, drive-thru lunch, not-as-quick-as-I-intended trip to the store, and picking up his brother, Asher was tired. And even though he took a normal nap, he woke up looking like this.



See that look? That is the face of a little boy gearing up for time out. Asher is so - well, reasonable, that I'm always surprised when he acts like a two-year-old. This afternoon I was reminded.

Silas, for his part, spent his morning charming his grandparents, showing off his new crawling skills and even waving good-bye to his grandpa for the first time. He celebrated the sunshine by showing absolutely no interest in napping this afternoon. The truth is that Silas doesn't nap more often than he does, and I have finally stopped obsessing over it. I am as consistent as the sun when it comes to his schedule, and he simply will not sleep. He gets tired at the same times, but that is no indication of whether or not he's actually going to nap. Want to see what a baby who hasn't slept all day looks like?

at 3:30 pm -


by 4:00 -


by 5:15 -



After the sun set, Asher had decreed his final "NOPE!", dinner had been upended onto the floor, both kids had been scrubbed and dressed, Brian had tucked Asher in, and I had curled up with Silas, a bedtime bottle, and the remote, Brian left for rehearsal. Ten minutes later, Silas threw up his ENTIRE BOTTLE on me, the couch, the laundry folded nearby, and the blanket. Again.

There is nothing more pitiful than a vomiting baby. There is also nothing more frustrating than not knowing how to care for your child. How am I supposed to know when to start feeding him again? He has no way of saying if he's still queasy. And the hypoallergenic stuff is so GROSS to begin with, it's no wonder his stomach can't handle it. But he's also cranky because he's hungry, right? Or is he cranky because he's queasy?

Blech.

So how does one get an over-tired and newly nauseated infant to sleep? How indeed. Not by feeding him, that's for sure. And swinging him just sounded ... jostling. In the end, I sort of pinned him against me, facing out, in the rocking chair until he settled down a bit, then let him roll over and sleep on my chest. It took a while, but he did eventually settle down. Now he's in bed, and I have a mess waiting for me.

So what kind of day has it been? A full one. And it's not over yet.