Hair Cut

Maybe you thought I meant for me.

Nope.

Someone else in the family was in desperate need of a hair cut.  Like BEYOND need of a hair cut.  As in "there was no way I wanted the breeder to see you" need a hair cut.

{He's a big baby and his bath had traumatized him.  

And yes... that's Zoolander on in the background}

Cotton is a show dog.  He hasn't won any big shows or anything although he did fairly well in the puppy categories.  It's partially because I am the one that shows him (meaning I run around the ring in circles with him) and partially because he still hasn't quite developed his big boy body.  And it is probably also because we don't train him enough.

When you have a show dog, you find yourself congratulating them on things like standing well and not sitting down when you bring out a treat.  In fact, one of the breeders told us the last thing we should teach him was how to sit.

Oops.

Anyway, the guy was super shaggy.  He had so much chest hair, it looked like as ascot.  And he looked like an old man with so much hair growing out of his ears.

{That's how he sits}

And because Cotton was SO BAD, there was no way I could let the breeder see how long it had been since he had a hair cut.  Phil and I went for it ourselves.

{That pretty much all came from his ears}

He looks like a different dog.

At first when we had finished, he wouldn't even look at me.

But after several treats and A LOT of petting, he forgave us.  And I guess the experience was so traumatic for him, he then proceeded to pass out.

It's hard to be so good-looking, right Cotton?

I'm off to see if I can find a cheap grooming table.  That's something I really never thought I would do.

Cards

I'm not a huge fan of Valentine's Day.  It is mostly because my birthday almost ALWAYS got combined with Valentine's Day by past boyfriends and that is just a cop-out.  But I also kind of hate the hype.  It's impossible to go eat anywhere.  I'm not a huge fan of chocolates.  And I DO. NOT. like getting flowers.  It *stems* (haha, get it?!) from having cancer.  Something about getting flowers when you are sick and then watching them die just really ruined them for me.

But I can get behind a card and a heartfelt sentiment.

The other night, Phil was at a Blazer game with my brother which gave Henry and I the PERFECT opportunity to go get our Valentine's Day cards for him.  Unfortunately for me, I decided to leave that to the end of my errand running and Henry was out of patience as he had allowed me to peruse clearance racks at Old Navy and Target before making my way to the card aisle.

{This isn't a picture from my shopping experience, but it looked rather similar}

After quickly reading EVERY card for husbands I concluded that they were all AWFUL.

Big suck-a-roo.

They either talked about "all the years" we have spent together or the "wonderful life" we have built together.  Well, we haven't been together long enough to talk about the vast number of years we have been together.  Sure, we have almost been together 6 years, but still... not eternity.  And while I do love Phil and enjoy our life together, it's not like we have arrived anywhere really.

It seems weird to talk about what an amazing life we have built together when things have been really hard.  We are doing our best to keep things together and good through one crisis after another.  We kind of started talking about it last night after I sent Phil this picture:

It's just crazy to think that that was just 9 months ago.  How quickly it flew by.  And how so much has changed since then.  Superficially, I lost the equivalent to half a person.  More importantly, we said hello to someone new and good-bye to someone we loved.

I needed a card that said something like, "I know we have been through another year of extreme challenges, but there is no one I would rather face them with but you."  And maybe, "It means more than a million roses or thousands of boxes of chocolates that you are by my side that absolutely everything."  I couldn't find that card.

Despite the challenges which have tested us this last year and will continue to test us for a little while longer (I'm looking at you, dissertation...), there have been great things too.

For one, it's not Valentine's Day 2012.

I now have another man in my life.  A new little Valentine.

So I guess we are building a wonderful life together.  It's just being built a little differently.  We aren't landing big jobs, taking adventurous vacations, or buying our dream home.  Our love is growing through scars and loss.  Battles with cancer, won and lost.  Through life and death.

And through it all, I love him.

Snow Day

It really doesn't snow where we live very much.  And when it does snow, it is usually just a dusting that is basically gone before you can really attempt to make a snowman.

We had some snow in December on a weekday, so I had to go to work.  And while I was at work, I was kicking myself that I had to be at the office and couldn't take my baby outside to show him the snow.  Truthfully, I wanted some pictures of him in the perfect snow.

But I didn't get that chance.  In true Pacific Northwest fashion, the snow was gone before I got the chance to take Henry outside during daylight.  I kind of mentally shrugged my shoulders and thought, "Oh well..." thinking that there was very little likelihood I would get the chance again this year.

Cue last week.  We got snow again.  This time, it was even more than before and it was actually A LOT of snow.

Seriously... we NEVER get snow.

I'm still trying to explain to my husband that the reason we don't have snow plows is because this NEVER happens.

So Friday, on my way to work in the pretty pretty snow, I again was angry that I had to work.  And just then I decided I wasn't going to let myself regret this snow day.  It was supposed to snow again that afternoon and I was going to leave work early to take my son outside and show him snow.

So I did.

I'm really glad I did.

One of the hardest parts of being a working mom is the never-ending guilt.  If I am home, I feel guilty about not working.  If I am working, I feel guilty about not being home.  Time passes so quickly and there are certain things you just can't get back.  It's important to keep an eye on your true priorities.  I want to be a good engineer and business owner, but more importantly, I want to be a great mom and I don't want to miss out on experiences with my children.

Henry won't remember his first day in the snow, but that doesn't matter as much.  I will.

Photo Dump

I am awful about downloading pictures from my camera.  This is evident on my DSLR and my iPhone.  I had over 1,300 pictures on my camera.  Finally, I downloaded them all and then deleted them from my camera.  Apparently it happens less than once a year.

I really should do it more often because I found all kinds of gems.

Like Cotton checking out Henry in his napper on his first day home.

Early smiles.

 Hanging out with Daddy on his first Father's Day.

One month old.

Getting baptized.

Hanging out in Virginia.

First trip to the beach.

Jumpin' fun.

Pumpkin Patch.

Chillin' with Sophie.

Christmas Tree.

I really should download pictures more often.

BFFs

When Cotton was a puppy, we would run across some people who would stop us and say, "Is that a Brittany?"

Proud of our new little furball, we would say, "Yes he is!"

And they would reply, "Oh nice!  You'll have a great dog in about 4 years."

...

After owning Cotton for a few more months, we understood what they meant.  He is a great puppy.  But he is still very much a puppy.

Needless to say, we were a little concerned when we discovered we would have a 1 year old rambunctious puppy and a baby.

From the beginning, Cotton has been more than interested in Henry.  We have tried to encourage the curiosity while establishing the need to be "careful" (a concept that of course is totally understood by the dog).  To be on the safe side, we even bought a baby gate to set up a dog-free space for Henry.

Much to our surprise, Cotton has learned the ropes when it comes to Henry.  When he starts to play with Taylor, he does it AWAY from Henry.  He walks slowly around Henry.  And more than anything, he just wants to sit with him.

It's actually really cute.

{Notice Taylor in the background.  She's still mad we brought Cotton home.}

I think they are best friends.

And that actually makes dealing with Cotton's lingering puppy-ways more palatable.

Don't Judge Me

Don't judge me, but...

-  I am really looking forward to being in bed by 9 tonight so I can eat some Muddy Buddies while watching Dance Moms.

-  Lately when I should be putting Henry to sleep, instead I get him all riled up.  He gives me kisses and then giggles and it totally makes my night.

-  My mood is partially dictated by how much breastmilk I have pumped that day.  It's weird.

-  Last week when I stayed home sick from work, Henry still went to daycare.  And then everyone still asked, "What are you doing with Henry today?"  I didn't feel guilty for sending him away from his sick mother to play with his friends at a place I pay for regardless of whether or not he is there.  Maybe I'm heartless.  Or maybe I found one of like 2 good things about being a working mom.

-  Henry has started biting while nursing.  And when I recoil in pain, he laughs.  It's cute and super painful all at the same time.  I'm not going to lie... some days the calorie burn is about all that keeps me breastfeeding.

{Working on his biting skills}

-  I really don't care for most country music, but I own a good majority of the Nashville singles.

-  I've decided I'm not going to stress about sleep training Henry.  He fights going to sleep like it is his JOB and I kind of think that is just his personality.  He is doing a better job of STAYING asleep and putting himself to sleep in the middle of the night.  And frankly, I like the cuddle time we get at night rocking.  My mommy instincts are pretty strong about this one.

We were just getting a little too healthy

I fear my blog is turning into a documentation of our trivial medical problems.  Better than a journal of our major medical problems (let's not any more of those, shall we cancer?).  ANYWAY...

Last week, Henry was showing signs of getting better.  He was sleeping better and acting more and more like him self.  Except he was having A LOT of diarrhea.  Like every diaper.  We were going through 3, 4, 5 outfits a day.  And on Wednesday, he started throwing up as well.  I know there has been a nasty tummy bug going around and there's nothing the doctor can do about it, but I figured I would call them anyway because 1) I'm a first time parent and that's what I do and 2) he still have a couple more doses of antibiotic left and I didn't know if we should even bother.

Basically they told us that he was probably having stomach problems from the medicine since it was THE WORST for causing diarrhea and throwing up was also pretty common.

AWESOME.  Let's use that one again PAH-LEASE!

Side Note:  Did I mention that his pediatrician complimented us on his "diaper care" at his follow-up appointment last week?  It seemed like a strange compliment at the time, but makes total sense.  And I have a weird sense of pride about it.

Anyway, I picked Henry up early from daycare, took him home and he acted fine.  We finished the medicine and he continued to act more and more like himself.

Huge exhale.

At time point, it was Thursday night and I didn't feel all that great.  Strike that.  I felt awful.  Like I wanted to claw out my own stomach.  Was this how Henry felt?  Oh man I sure hope not.

A little time on the bathroom floor and a sleep-less night later, I felt even worse.  Phil went to work, Henry went to daycare and I went to the couch.  Also, staying home sick is pretty much the most boring thing ever.  Somehow I managed to sleep some Friday night, but by Saturday morning I felt even worse.  Now on top of the tiny fever and body aches, my throat hurt like crazy.  And I felt like a huge baby.  Like a giant baby.  I had given birth, how could I not handle a little bug?

At my mom's urging, I went to Urgent Care and much to everyone's surprise (except my mom), I have Strep Throat.

I shouldn't be too surprised because it is one of like 8 things floating around a daycare.  But the last time I had strep throat was my 6th grade birthday party.  And I guess it is terribly uncommon for adults to get it.

Thanks daycare.  Apparently I lick door knobs or something.

But, good news, when adults do contract strep it usually hits them super hard and wipes them out.  That little gem was delivered by the Urgent Care doctor, to which I looked at him, raised my hand and said, "Um... yeah.  I know."

So I have spent the weekend desperately hoping I don't get Phil and Henry sick and doing my best to drink fluids since those were the doctors orders (because drinking anything when your throat feels like it is red hot and full of razor blades is so easy).  I'm no longer contagious and can get back to showering Henry with kisses and cuddles.  We both missed them A LOT.

{Dinner time is before bath time for a reason}

{Henry took a selfie}

We are hoping for a healthy week and (fingers crossed) rest of February.  Maybe I'll even blog about something else.  Don't get too excited.