Mean people suck

And while we haven't found many of them in our travels in upstate New York so far, we have found a couple of doozies. We headed upstate to look for housing and interview daycare providers, and get some paperwork done on campus, and give Tim a chance to interview a couple places before we actually move in August. It was an enormously stressful long weekend with high stakes involved. When we moved up to Boston, there was always the back up of our family up in Maine, which is only an hour and a half from here. Worse case scenario and we didn't find an apartment, family could look at places for us if we set up appointments, or we could crash up there for a brief period while we finished the search. We also didn't have a little person depending on us for routine and consistency and a sense of normalcy. Talk about feeling the pressure!! When we set out for the road Friday afternoon, we had 5 appointments for housing viewings, 3 appointments with day care providers, and 2 interviews set up for Tim. We ended up physically entering 2 places and doing a drive by "oh heck no" of a third place. The other two...not so much. First, there was the jerk who hung up on us Sunday morning as we were getting ready to confirm our second viewing of the day. In our research for rental property (which is easier said than done in an area like central NY), we have been very upfront about the fact that a) we are moving from Boston, b) we were only going to be in town for one long weekend prior to the move, and c) we have 3 cats and they WILL be moving with us. The confirmation call went something like this...

Tim: Hi, my name is Tim, we spoke previously about the townhouse on blah, blah Street in (suburb of Syracuse) and I just wanted to confirm our viewing of the place at noon.

Jerk: Oh right yeah. Do you have any family? (this info was emailed multiple times)

Tim: Um yes, I will be moving in with my wife and 2 and half year old son.

Jerk: When did you want to move in?

Tim: We are hoping for an August 1st start date on a lease. (also discussed previously)

Jerk: Do you have any pets? (this was also discussed on multiple occasions previously)

Tim: Yes, we have 3 very well-behaved indoor-only cats.

Jerk: Oh right, I remember you saying that....CLICK

The Jerk hung up on us without confirming our appointment. There was fabulous cell signal the entire route to that area from our hotel. This was so NOT a dropped call, this was a situation where he clearly had other interested people who didn't have pets and we lost out because of our love of fur. I cry discrimination, but regardless..

Cross one off the list.

One of the other town houses, in the downtown area, not far from campus was to put it mildly not the type of place we were interested in calling home. Not only was the "backyard" closer to a trash heap, but the inside was to put it mildly...derelict and completely disgusting.

Cross two off the list.

We had a similar feeling about another place, this one a single-family home close to the down town, but a couple miles away from campus. We had been having a little bit of difficulty getting in touch with the property owner, but we finally got the address Sunday evening and stopped by to scope out the outside of it on the way out to dinner. Suffice it to say that we found a polite way out of that viewing. It was a repeat performance of the previous viewing, derelict and disgusting, again.

Cross three off the list.

My personal favorite, however, the even bigger jerk who we have been in touch with for almost 2 months. This was supposed to be for a single family home about 30 miles east of campus. We were lined up to look at it early afternoon on Sunday. When Tim pulled up his email to grab the phone number to confirm the viewing, he pulled up a message that essentially indicated that the owner of the single-family home we had intended to view that afternoon had gotten in touch with an old friend. Said old friend had offered his house as a down payment for our potential rental house in question and owner in question said "and well, we have decided to go with that plan." As in sorry for you peeps, too bad if you were hoping to rent this place, we have a ghetto deal in the works and you two are out of luck. Our first choice housing option has now left us high and dry.

Cross four off the list.

Thankfully, we did look at a great town house in the cute suburb north of Syracuse on a little cul-de-sac. Its a bit smaller than we were initially hoping for, but it was immaculately well-cared for and had the requisite 3 bedrooms, so by default it will be ours for the next year. Since the university is not reimbursing for our move and Boston is expensive to live in, we can't make another trip out there to look again, not that there are many additional options for 3 bedroom places, where cats are not discriminated against. Most of what is out there is in Syracuse itself and that is too far south for my commute.

It seems like it will all work out in the end, no thanks to the couple of jerks who managed to screw us over during our visit to the area. Thankfully, the daycare search was much more positive and very low stress. The woman I connected best with during my phone interviews, did indeed turn out to be a peach and is being very flexible with our chaotic move out there schedule. Let's hope we manage to have similar luck with Tim's employment situation. Think optimistic thoughts!

It started off so innocently

Last we went up to Maine to relax for Father's day and to hopefully have some family fun. The initial plan was to leave Friday early afternoon to make it in time for a Portland Sea Dogs game. It was slated to be Noah's 2nd baseball game, and his first since he has started having an opinion about things. We have no pictures of this event, why, because it NEVER HAPPENED! Friday morning, the little man woke up throwing up (again!). We never managed to get breakfast in him, but the juice we got in came back to visit. By lunch time he was interested in some toast and juice and that all stayed where it belonged as he collapsed in a heap of sick exhaustion on the couch. Everything looked good when he woke up from his nap so we chanced it and packed up the car and headed out. All was well until the border of New Hampshire when I heard a terrible noise from the back seat...one I hope to never hear again. The end result was a big mess to say the least at 70 mph and a 45 minute clean-up attempt at the NH Welcome Center. An experience I could never experience again and it would be too soon!

Flash forward to Saturday morning and all is well with the world again. No sign of illness other than a less than stellar appetite and so we headed to the beach to do some relaxing. Tim dug a hole, Noah got in it, then Noah spent the rest of the day trying to fill it with the ocean. Thankfully, it wasn't until we were starting to think about packing up to head back for nap time when the worst possible thing happened...seaweed touched Noah!!!! The end of the world came and there was no more ocean for the little dude. He still wanted to play, he still wanted to fill up his bucket with water, but on the way down to the water, he dramatically steps around the bits washed up on the sand. And when he reached the edge of the water, he was to be picked up immediately. What a nut! While his reaction was certainly hilarious, I can say that I understand the creep factor.

We had a nice dinner out Saturday evening to celebrate Father's day with some great seafood, but by Sunday morning when we were supposed to head out to take Noah to the local amusement park, whatever Noah had on Friday was now firmly in my possession. Thankfully, the weather was beautiful and there were Memere & Pepere back-ups on hand to do the heavy lifting while I tried to find the life that had been sucked out of me.

Noah played with the hose in the driveway and helped to water Memere's plants.

It all started out so innocently. He "watered" Mommy's car...

Then he decided to try and figure out where the water comes out from

And you can see where this is going....

Yep, a hose spray in the face. It all happened so fast that just as the words "Noah, turn the nozzle around buddy" came out of my mouth, it was too late. He was not impressed, but it all started out so innocently.

All is well that end well though and since Tim offered for Noah to help him wash Mommy's car, every thing was right with the world again

And then Uncle Tim and Hunter took him for a ride in Mommy's old wagon. It doesn't get better than that!

Happy Wedding Alisha & Chris

Last weekend, amongst all of the illness craziness we had going on with poor Noah, we managed to make it down to Connecticut to celebrate with Alisha & Chris as they got married. I have been working with Alisha for the last three years and can say that she and Chris are perfect for each other! We wish them lots of love and happiness, they had a beautiful day that would have only been more fun if Noah hadn't been slightly under the weather.

The ceremony itself was outside in a beautiful park and while short, it was so meaningful and special for them. After the ceremony, we blew bubbles for the happy couple. Noah tried, but I think that he ate more bubble solution than he managed to get in bubble form. Its a work in progress! :)

On the way back to the car, Noah and Daddy munched on each other's necks to pass the time!

We attempted a size up in the shirt after we discovered that his shirt from Aunt Marian and Uncle Chris' wedding wouldn't stay tucked in. Sadly, even with a bigger shirt, we never managed to get a shirt to stay tucked in. In my next life, I am making a dress shirt with a onesie bottom so it will actually stay in those pants! But he looked regardless!

Poor little guy wasn't feeling 100%, so he certainly didn't cut a rug little the dancing fool he was down in Charlotte, but we did manage to get in the conga line action!


Congratulations Alisha & Chris, hope you are having a wonderful time in Europe on your honeymoon and thanks for inviting us to celebrate with you!

Memorial day around town

Its been a long week around here what with the Noah health crisis, which is thankfully, quite finished. We now have a fully functioning 2 year old with his usual attitude and appetite. It may take him a while to get rid of the bruise on his hand from the IV and to gain back the weight I am sure he lost through all that mess, but we are back in business on that front at least. With that behind us, now I can try to catch up on some of the blog posts I have been wanting to write.

Over the Memorial day holiday weekend, although Tim has to work for most of it, he has Saturday off and so we had a little cookout with some family and decided to head into the city and enjoy the weather. One of my email newsletters informed me that the carousel on the Commons was open, so we decided that might be a fun thing to let Noah try out.

The little dude wasn't so sure what to think of the whole thing when the ride first started. He hid his little face in his arms and held on tight.

Eventually though, he decided that riding the horsey was indeed a lot of fun. He was waving and smiling at his peeps each and every time around. I think he was a little sad when it ended.

After the carousel, the initial idea was to head over to the playground on the other side of the Frog Pond, but given the holiday weekend, it seemed that everyone else had the same exact idea. The place was swarming with kids and much older kids...kids who weren't being tolerant (or careful) of the smallest members of the crowd. Within 5 minutes of arriving, Noah got hip checked while trying to cross a little bridge on the play structure and I had to grab him before he fell through the side and hit the ground 3 feet below. Never been so glad to have joined him that time up there! Needless to say, I had a few words for the little punk (I mean delightful, yet over excited little boy) that nearly tossed him over board. Also needless to say, we didn't stay for a repeat performance at the playground, so we decided to head to the Public Gardens across the street and go to check out the swan boats.

But first Memere thought it would be a good idea to get Noah a balloon hat. Of course his doggie hat was quite the hit and even managed to survive the kitties at home until it deflated due to natural causes (may it rest in peace!).

"Hey Mommy, check out what I has on my head!"

There were a couple of weddings at the Gardens when we were strolling through...I forgot how beautiful that side of the street is. I hope we get a chance to visit again before we head out of town. We watched the swan boats from the bridge and Noah went down below to walk under the bridge and get a better look at the boats. It was all very exciting you know! The highlight of the day, however, was Memere's supreme photography skills, which landed us an updated family picture that I am quite pleased about. Everyone is smiling and looking in the right direction...go us!

Incidentally, while Tim was working on Sunday and Monday, Noah and I spent the mornings at a local spray park where Noah continued his role as a target of random acts of violence. An unsupervised little girl, maybe 4 or 5 years old, came running up to Noah in the middle of the park and actually tackled him to the ground, as in full contact football tackle. she didn't stop at that either, once she got him down, she made it her mission to pin him down as hard as she could and not let him up. I was appalled and it took me and another helpful (but in no other way involved) mother to remove her death grip from poor Noah. In the meantime, Noah is alternating between stunned silence an screaming for help. Thankfully, the second little punk (I have no nice alternative names for her) didn't hurt him physically and Noah was physically no worse for the wear. He is, however, a bit scarred from the take down and he mentions it still, over a week later, with some concern. Hopefully it won't ruin our future trips to cool off at the playground.

What's your thing chicken wing?

We've had a rough couple of days in the health department around here. When I wrote last week about the Mommy guilt, I wasn't prepared for it to hit a whole new level. Suffice it to say that I am wishing that I had stayed home with Noah on Friday. Of course he was looking like he felt great that morning and was acting completely fine. By afternoon however, he was a hot mess of a little man who had spent the day clinging to Nana Lou and just not creating the usual amount of Noah havoc and entertainment. By Saturday late morning he had hit a fever of 101 again and was looking pretty bad. Some motrin and a good nap had him feeling better for the rest of the day, with only a couple of scary looking diapers throughout the whole day. Unfortunately, Sunday brought more hostile conditions for the little guy. Overnight there was some throwing up, some sleeping with Mommy and Daddy and lots of cuddles. By morning though we were starting up a losing battle with the diarrhea. The poor little guy had so much of it that we were starting to wonder how to clean it up without tearing up his little bottom. At about this time was when he decided to stop eating, drinking, and the little of either he did resulted in the reappearance of what ever made it down. He actually even fell asleep for his afternoon nap on the change table while we were trying to redress him from a quick shower attempt to clean him up a bit, which is NOT something this child ever does.

With a terrible ominous feeling, I got on the phone with the pediatrician's on call nurses line, who confirmed that it was indeed time to throw in the metaphorical towel and drive him to the ER at Children's Hospital downtown. That was one place I was hoping to never see the inside of prior to our departure from the area. Nothing against what turned out to be a lovely staff of people, but who wishes for that sort of experience? Noah ended up with a severe enough case of dehydration and low blood sugar that the doctor recommended that they give him a dose of anti-nausea medications and get an IV started to help the little man feel better. What could have been a traumatic experience for everyone was made only slightly uncomfortable with the extreme distractionary measures taken by Robyn of the Child Life Specialist staff the and IV starting ninja skills of the nursing staff. A really exciting toy with spinning flashing lights took Noah's mind off of things at exactly the time that the IV needle was inserted and he let out one tiny whimper and he was back to showing us that he could press the button to turn it off an on! Amazing work, amazing people, we can't begin to thank them for making everything so much easier.

Over the course of the next 3 hours, Noah ended up needing to get 2 IV bolus' (250 mL each) of fluids and then a half an hour of maintenance or so...that's over 16 ounces of liquid replaced. We relaxed and cuddled and talked about how cool his new "chicken wing" was. He wanted to know why he had a kicken wing and we told him his hand needed a drink since he had been feeling so sick. He thought it was kind of silly that his hand was drinking, but it didn't really convince him that perhaps if he drank by mouth that he might feel better. While we were hanging out waiting for the IV pump to do its work, we managed to get one popsicle in him and finally managed to find one confirmed wet diaper for the day. By the time we left the ER department, we finally had a little man who was asking to be let go so he could play in the hopistal. We thought we were out of the woods, sadly we were mistaken.

This morning he looked decent, asked for something to drink and liked the idea of some dry cereal. He begged for an hour or so to go out for a walk, so I decided a little fresh air wouldn't hurt. I strapped him in the stroller and headed out to check out the construction progress on our favorite playground (still not quite done yet). Before noon he was already out cold in the stroller and after returning home, I parked the stroller in the back yard and waiting for him to wake up on his own. He slept for two and a half hours and woke up looking pretty pathetic. After a good drink from his sippy cup and a couple of crackers, all of our progress was lost and it all came back up. We managed to get a dose of anti-nausea medication in and Noah collapsed on the closest lap and went from "perhaps he doesn't look so good" to "perhaps we need to head back to the hospital again???" I got back on the phone with the pediatrician's office and consulted with Charlie, the best nurse we have yet to encounter. It was decided that we had done almost everything that we could and chances were we would probably need to bring him back in to Children's. Charlie said to try teaspoonfuls of koolaid every 10-15 minutes and see if we could get it to stay down. If not, then pack a bag and head downtown as it was high odds the little man would be admitted. Hoping for the best, we managed to get teaspoon after teaspoon into him with little protest and no vomiting. He isn't well, but he isn't admitted to hospital either! I can't say we are out of the woods yet, but here's hoping we are heading in the right direction!

My touching trucks!!!

So, since today was a sick day for the little dude and I was remarkably productive during the marathon nap, I figured I would take a bit of time this evening to try and play a bit of blog posting catch up. A couple of weekends ago there was a fundraising event for a nursery school I had never heard of in a small town about 40 miles outside of the city. Now, I realize thus far, this is bearing little relevance to our lives, but there is a connection, I promise.

This is Noah, you are familiar I am sure by now. I am sure you also are EXCEEDINGLY well aware that this child LOVES trucks. He is a man about his vehicles and he is nondiscriminatory I must say. If it has wheels and preferably makes LOTS of NOISE, then he is all about it. So back to Noah, did you know he liked trucks?????

Being his parents, we are well aware of this small fact. Noah LIKES trucks. He sings about how much he likes trucks, he lives for rides in the car so that he can scope out all of the different trucks on the road with us, his days revolve around when we can next take another walk so that he can visit the nearby construction sites, or see the trucks drive by. (I personally want to thank all of the sweet drivers of said trucks who have waved, beeped, or chatted with Noah as he drooled over your respective vehicle. Thank you for your patience and kindness, and for helping to make one little boys day over and over and over again).

Anyway, back to the 40 mile drive to support a nursery school we have never heard of (and still can't remember the name of even as I sit here typing). Their idea for a fundraiser was a beginning of summer festival complete with fried dough, a bouncy house, and a touch-a-truck event. I think Noah completely died and went to heaven!

He had a chance to sit in every.single.truck they had parked there. He waited in line patiently for his turn at each vehicle. He beeped every.single.horn he could get his hands on.

He sat in bucket loaders and admired the wheels

He looked extremely tiny in one of the largest front end loaders I have seen with my own eyes

But mostly, he was a two year old boy, marveling at the awesomeness of it all and loving every.single.minute!

Incidentally, after we came home, the event left such an impression on him that he said to me in his sweet little voice, "Mommy my see trucks, my touch trucks today, that was VERY nice!"

One facet of mommy guilt

If I am like most other mothers out there, I find it all too easy to find ways of mentally torturing myself with self-inflicted mommy guilt. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people in the universe who will be all to willing to pile on some external versions of the mommy guilt, but it seems to me that I have always been the single person most effective in piling it on at the exact moment when I need it the least. Take for example today.

Today was a sick day, I was home with Noah attempting to decide if he was truly sick or if he had merely overheated himself the night before what with all of the blankets he has taken to piling on his head in the middle of the night. I am going with sick since the motrin kicked in and he fell back to sleep soundly at 4 am after a mid-night sick call, a wardrobe change, a bedding change, and a load of laundry started (all the while Tim laid in bed waiting to be fed instructions...um, general rule, if I am not back in 2 minutes, come help, it is probably needed...love you sweetie!). He slept in this morning, which is something Noah has not graced us with in weeks, this morning was unusually late though, almost 9 am, item # 2 in favor of the sick. We laid low and I strolled him quietly around the neighborhood so we could check out the trucks and other such vehicles. When we got back for lunch he had spiked a fever again, 101.2. Nothing dangerous, but with no motrin on board, I literally watched the energy drain right out of him. Some lunch, a little medication, a lot of juice, and a 4 hour nap made for a much happier and energetic Noah this evening, but when I checked him again just before dinner he was at just over 100 degrees. Now I am in the mommy-guilt inducing predicament wherein I try to decide whether or not to send him off to Nana Lou's tomorrow. The vomiting was a one time occurrence and even without fever-reducers on board, the highest we saw was about 101. He acted fine, ate well, and hasn't been any more clingy or needy than usual this evening. I am leaning toward sending him and hoping for the best given that half of Wednesday's workday was spent waiting for the construction vehicles to evacuate our driveway and now all of today (save the 4 hour nap) was spent home with a sick dude. The problem lies in the fact that this is one of those decisions that there is no right answer until after the fact...and oh how I hate playing the Monday morning quarterback game. If I send him and he is fine all day, then we are golden right? If I send him and he spikes a fever halfway through the day, then I spend the next few days wondering if I should have kept him home and if he would have gotten better faster if he had been home resting with me. Oh, and then there is the additional layer of guilt when I am left wondering if I sent a contagious little dude to spread his germs to the other two unsuspecting short people at Nana's Lou's. Finally, there is the line of logic wherein I keep the child home and spend the day trying to keep him rested and hydrated all the while he acts completely healthy, never spikes a fever, and is bouncing off the walls all day trying to figure out why Mommy won't let him have any fun...resulting in me feeling guilty for not spending the day working since I actually have things that need to be done in that realm. Just for a little additional frustration, this weekend we are scheduled to be heading to Connecticut for a friend's wedding, Noah included, and he has been talking about pulling out his dancing shoes for the last 2 weeks. If he is sick longer because I sent him when I shouldn't have and he misses the wedding festivities, it will be too sad for me to bare. We are cutting it close with the timing, he could be fine, he could be a mess, only the Monday morning quarterback will be able to tell me how it all turned out, and have I mentioned how I hate that guy???

What little boy's dreams are made of

Backhoes, jack hammers, dump trucks, and a vacuum cleaner truck. That's what little boys dreams are made of. Noah's dream came true this morning when all of the above pulled onto our street directly in front of our house. They have been firmly planted there for the last two hours (much to my chagrin since our cars are firmly pinned into our driveway!). There was a VERY deep pot hole in front of the driveway that had been blocked off by a construction cone for the last week or so. The cone itself had been a source of quite a bit of entertainment, with the little man announcing repeatedly to anyone who would listen (Hi Uncle Tim!) if someone had dared to knock the cone off the "hooooooooole." That is as far as the saga had gone until this morning when the parade of trucks (otherwise known as entertainment in the form of your tax dollars at work) pulled up the street this morning.

First there was the jack hammer that cut out the opening for the hole. Then the backhoe pulled up to dig out the pavement and the dirt underneath. While that was taking place, Noah was officially blowing a little baby gasket. He jumped up and down and screamed excitedly the blow-by-blow report. Too much! He made friends with the police officer that was supervising the work site and impressed everyone with his in depth knowledge about all of the various vehicles. The construction show lasted for at least 2 hours, until the men decided to take a break and start chatting on their cell phones and hang out in the hole not doing much. Typical to put in 2 hours of work and call it good, even if there was a car-sized hole in the road. Hopefully they have filled it in by the time I get back from work. Unfortunately though, Noah will have to find another source of entertainment!

The pool is out!

We had some beautiful weather this weekend and with Daddy at work and a trip to the park already taken in the morning, Noah and I spent the afternoon playing with his little pool in the back yard. Just as he did last year, Noah spent almost all of the time outside of the pool, playing with toys from the outside, but hopefully by the end of the summer he will figure out that really hot days warrant a little bottom to be plopped in the water.

For now though, since its the first pool play of the season, we'll let him do it his way...spraying water from the hose to fill up the pool all "by MYsef"


Crouching on the outside playing with his toys in the water. Watering the water in the pool with one's watering can is THE thing to do, didn't you know?


Eyeballing Mommy suspiciously when she actually suggests that its more fun IN the pool than outside.


Then you can always ditch the pool entirely and just play with the hose. Time to fill up and dump out water from the back of the little dump truck...fill up, dump out....fill up, dump out...it never gets old!


And after all that play, its important to hydrate. I love this picture, its the eyes that get me.