Whew!

You know it's been a hell of a weekend when you leave the hospital on Sunday afternoon with your underwear in one of these.

And that's not even the half of it. This is just a quick "we're still alive!" at the end of the craziest couple of weeks that we can recall.

There were some high points. First, and most importantly, Seth won a silver medal at the Paralympic Nationals in Minneapolis on his first Father's Day (and Finley and I and his parents were there to see it!)

We actually had a wonderful weekend in Minneapolis (minus my solo flight out with Finley, who can no longer sit still on flights and instead behaves as if possessed.)

Finley got to go to her first Twins game.

Although she did fall asleep during the seventh-inning stretch.

She also developed a serious fondness for hotel living.

And made her first Cabela's trip.

(Not to mention wore out Grandma and Grandpa!)

I got smart on the trip back and bought her good behavior with Biscoffs (after Seth bought himself a Father's Day present- an exit row seat with no babies allowed!- and tried shamelessly to avoid looking gleeful about it.)

Jayne and Tony came back home with us, but our nice quiet week at home (with babysitting!) went haywire when my quick work trip to Fort Bragg to testify at a board turned into a four day nightmare locked up in a windowless room with no phone or computer access.

And then in the interim, Seth's grandfather died. I raced back from Bragg as soon as I could, but just missed Tony and Jayne, who had flown to Nebraska that day to help with arrangements. Finley was all out of whack after all the travel and lack of routine, so we had just decided that Seth would leave for the funeral the next day and I would keep her at home... when I started feeling sick.

And that's how we found ourselves throwing diapers in a bag two hours before Seth's flight left so he could take Finley on a surprise trip to Nebraska while I threw up in the hallway and made my way to the ER.

Of course they lost Seth's bags, so the two intrepid travelers survived- apparently- on no sleep, chocolate chip cookies and a borrowed diaper or two. In the meantime I required not one but two lumbar punctures to determine that I had aseptic meninigitis and required hospitalization (although not very good drugs) for the weekend.

Worst. Weekend. Ever.

But at least eventually I got to come home to this (in her new pink camo high chair, or course.)

So there you have it. We're alive, if barely, checking in briefly before the long weekend- which we plan to spend firmly in one place. Some weeks (months?) it takes a village, and I'm grateful for ours, especially my Paralympic medalist of a husband who just whisked Finley off to Nebraska on a moment's notice and held down the fort like a pro. I'm still in awe. (He, in turn, says there's no way he could've survived the whirlwind disaster of a trip without Jayne, which I believe. And both of us are insanely grateful for the fortuitous lawnmowing by Tony!)

Here's hoping for a quiet fourth. A couple of outtakes from the Minneapolis weekend, including Finley devouring avocados. She's become a total handful to eat with- she wants to try everything, and it's both adorable and a bit alarming (if you happen to be the one holding the food.)

 

A whole new take on cancelled flights

I hadn't considered this particular dilemma, I thought, as I glanced nervously over my shoulder at a snoring Finley in the backseat. Had her foot moved when I ordered? It was hard to tell in the dark with no baby mirror. I really, really did not want her to wake up. She had developed a sudden and violent aversion to her car seat of late, and we still had 3 hours to go. I took my diet coke from the drive-thru attendant and steered the rented Hyundai back toward the interstate. Now that I had ordered it- upon realizing I couldn't leave a baby in a car seat while I ran into a service station for a drink- I was terrified to drink it. If I had to pee, I would have to take her inside with me and she would almost definitely wake up.

I was so thirsty my whole mouth felt dry, but I stared at the untouched diet coke all the way back home. An already-restless Finley woke up every 45 minutes or so and screamed for 15. Just as I was getting ready to give up and pull over each time, she fell back asleep. But I knew that a bathroom trip would do us in, so there would be no whistle-wetting for me. We eventually made it back- to the tune of 2:30 in the morning- and by then my nerves were so shot my hands were actually shaking.

Finley, on the other hand, was just thrilled to be reunited with her Daddy. The picture at right was the scene on the couch at 3am.

We had had a blast in Fayetteville while Seth was throwing in Oklahoma. I had to go to a memorial service Saturday night, so we had flown down Friday and used the opportunity to make the rounds to see old friends in a place I loved and genuinely missed. The flight was a bit of a handful, as Finley doesn't travel light. Nor does she actually do much of this on a plane.


But it was worth it, to get to introduce Finley to friends so close they really are family. Jenn got the remaining members of the O.G. together and we had a great time reminiscing and marveling at how the years have flown since we all first met. We also cracked up at Maggie's "big sister practice," as Hudspeth Baby #2 is on the way. Sharing is an acquired skill, we learned, as sweet little Maggie wailed and gnashed her teeth on the floor at the very thought of Finley playing with toys she had long outgrown. The pink jeep walker was particularly contentious.

They had (mostly) sorted things out in time for a pool date Saturday, at which Maggie did remember how much she had loved her baby float

but magnanimously shared her Annie's graham cracker bunnies. Finley went crazy for them, naturally.

Jenn and Neil watched the little beast and let me go to the memorial kid-free, for which I was grateful. And Finley got to hang out with Brannagh Droz (Finley was cranky, so the visit was not well photographed) and spend a gorgeous morning hanging out on Aunt CJ's boat at her beautiful lakehouse.

She also got to eat the pineapples off of Jackie and Kevin's pizza (not to mention pull the new kitten's tail.)

We were hanging out with Heather and her kids in the gorgeous Governor's Club pool in Chapel Hill when I got the call that our flight home was cancelled and the next available one had two stops and didn't arrive until 5 Monday evening. It's so easy to be flexible when you're traveling alone- "sorry, boss, won't be in tomorrow due to cancelled flight. Guess I'll stick around and drink more beer!"- but it turns out it is gut-wrenching with a 7 month old in tow. Between bottles and diaper changes, I made hysterical phone calls and finally decided reluctantly to make the drive, which required a trip to the airport to swap rental cars and a threat to the Enterprise employees that the first one of them that woke the sleeping baby would be keeping her.

And that's how I found myself staring at a diet coke the whole way up I-95 to DC.

I wouldn't recommend the experience- and I'm pretty sure I have actual PTSD- but remain grateful that we got to catch up with some of my nearest and dearest friends.

Seth didn't have his best throw in Oklahoma, but he is still tinkering with his prosthetic and his form, and he said it was a great learning experience. (He also still threw a really long way.) April took Gunnar to see him throw, which was awesome, and she took some terrific pictures.

Now he's at Nationals in Minneapolis getting ready for this weekend's event, and Finley and I are making do on a truly crazy week (which involved my first-ever ball drop on a work commitment due to daycare issues, a rather awful rite of passage. There was a mixup with her shot records and they refused to let me drop her off until I sat fuming with a cranky baby for an hour waiting for patient records to open and produce a copy. I was livid and deeply embarrassed.)

Luckily, I have good friends to remind me that it will not be the last time this happens, and it's not the end of the world. At least, as Sara pointed out, Finley didn't require staples in her head. So there's that.

As for this week's photos, I love this one of Finley in her pool at Ana & Ata's (who again saved my week with Finley-sitting on a cranky teething day and a bonus of one of Mom's amazing pizzas.)

And this was one of the hilarious outtakes from Finley and Maggie's pool date. Sunglasses fail.

Not our favorite week (but that salmon...!)

I have probably taken hundreds of pictures of Seth and Finley snuggled up in bed when I leave for work. Usually the flash doesn't wake them up. Yesterday morning, for some reason, it did. Seth is going to kill me for sharing this photo, but I can't stop laughing about it. My two (angry) peas in a pod. Neither of them cares for mornings.

We've had kind of a hard slog of a week or so. I'm massively overwhelmed doing three jobs during the summer transition at work while still trying to make it home in time to have dinner with Seth and Finley (and traffic gets worse every week, it seems). Yesterday evening I had two of my attorneys follow me out to the parking garage to brief me on cases, which I signed off on as I was literally driving away- and then took work calls all the way home. I'm resigned to the fact that this will continue until I start the new job at the Pentagon without any break at all: my last day at USALSA is the July 14th and I report to the Pentagon on the 15th. So I've been running around like a crazy person, and the night shift with Finley just adds to the fun.

Seth, too, is in limbo with his summer duties, waiting on decisions as to whether he is to do applied work or spend time in the lab, and how a thesis fits in. West Point has yet to make up its mind about his summer on-the-job training there, and in the meantime he's traveling to track meets and training hard in hopes of breaking records at IPC Nationals at the end of this month. And I remain grateful- although I know I don't tell him enough- that he continues to do the heavy lifting on the parenting front during the week (at least during daylight hours). I know only too well how hard it is to get anything done/ get out the door with the little tornado on your hands, and he does it every day. Not to mention picking her up in Bethesda evening traffic. There's no way I could do it all myself, a fact of which I am reminded daily.

On top of the madhouse that is our current existence, Finley developed an awful diaper rash at the end of last week and seems to be simultaneously teething and having a growth spurt. Which adds up to a miserable, sleepless little monster and helpless, also sleepless parents.

Our week did have some bright spots. Finley still got her Ana & Ata day (and a bundled-up walk since deadbeat Mom didn't bring long pants on an unseasonably chilly day. There IS a  baby in there!) And we went kayaking with our interns one morning for work. Seth came down and joined us, and caught a big largemouth bass.

It was not our favorite weekend, which I guess happens sometimes. A rash-stricken Finley got baking soda baths and spent hours napping while wrapped in a towel. (This photo is of a borderline hostage situation during which she refused to nap unless she was sleeping on my chest and I was sitting perfectly still.) And Seth spent most of Sunday trying to fix a broken lawnmower. As a result of both, we didn't make much headway on our to-do lists, which threw a wrench into an already-packed summer schedule. Not to mention, we hate being housebound.

We did manage a nice brunch at Founding Farmers (one of my favorites), though, after I snuck out for a beautiful trail 10k on Saturday morning. And we took Finley by the Veterans' Appreciation BBQ at the Izaak Walton League, where she got to try out the pink ear protection her Daddy bought her before she was born. She was (obviously) the belle of the ball.

By Sunday afternoon we had scrapped plans for an adventure and decided to enjoy just hanging out at home. Finley made a remarkable recovery in time for our Seth-grilled dinner (I love it when he goes to Whole Foods. We eat like kings!) She's been a good eater since we started introducing solid foods, but I've so far been careful to follow this chart. And then this happened:

That's right. She apparently likes salmon. So long as it's sustainably caught and the king variety. Only the best for Finley...

At any rate, here's to a hopefully less-chaotic week. At least we've seen some relief on the teething front: we finally have a pearly white poking through!

Two photos of the week: Finley's 7 month picture...

...and her first taste of peanut butter. Which is totally OK with her pediatrician, and which she carefully considered before deciding she liked it. Although not as much as mangoes, her current favorite. (Of course- the fruit that requires surgical expertise to prepare. I texted Daniel frantically for advice after I almost lost a finger trying to de-pit the first one.)

Our anniversary, and an avocado thief

Two years ago, I packed a still-wheelchair-bound Seth up into his then-new truck, and we drove to Maine for the long weekend, where we got married on a Tuesday afternoon on the shores of Bear Pond.

Last year, we flew to Boston and then road tripped to Bar Harbor, where we celebrated a big first year of marriage with lobster mac & cheese and blueberry beer. (I was almost four months pregnant with Finley, so I had to ration the latter.)

Finley doesn't particularly care for airports or road trips. So this year we stayed closer to home: we toasted another year with beer and guac at our favorite baby-friendly restaurant, Fish Taco. Finley danced on the table, ate most of the guac, and got into the chips.

We wouldn't have had it any other way.

It is literally incredible the extent to which your life can change in such a short period of time. We agreed over negro modelos (scooted far our of Finley's remarkable reach) that year two has definitely been a success- the shortage of uninterrupted dinners notwithstanding.

Because Finley likes to celebrate big, we took her to her first water park this weekend, which immediately reminded us that she was overdue for her shots. I think water parks are the height of filth, but she had a blast and it was contagious (no pun intended). Even I waded into the ringworm-infested waters with her (but not before making the next-available appointment for those shots.) We spent most of the afternoon trying to keep a hat and sunblock on our translucent-white baby's bald head, but she splashed to her heart's content until she was utterly exhausted (a tired Finley is a true rarity):

We spent the rest of the weekend relaxing at home, which is always a nice change for us. Seth is transitioning to his summer schedule (much to my envy) and is using his newly-acquired free time to train for the upcoming IPC Nationals. Of course Finley wants to help.

I was mostly excited to try out our new Osprey baby backpack. Seth and Finley indulged me with a Sunday evening walk along the canal, which always reminds me how lucky we are to live where we do- not a sentiment I generally feel during the commuting workweek. We got a kick out of the backpack, even if Finley's still a little too small for it. She did an alarming amount of bouncing, but had a blast grabbing at leaves (and slapping Dad in the back of the head as if to say "giddyap".) And then eventually fell asleep. That thing is worth its weight in gold.

Yesterday we braved traffic and Walter Reed parking, and got her those overdue shots. She was a champ about them, although we always get excited about the "this will make her really sleepy" admonition until we remember that Finley is immune to that particular side effect.

(This was an hour or so after she got the pincushion treatment, fishing the avocados out of our dinner salad and eating them.)

If that's not the photo of the week, I don't know what is. Although I thought this one was pretty funny too, of the card with my "work" anniversary flowers. (Lucky me, I also got "home" anniversary flowers.) Apparently, Seth's allegedly-much-sweeter message got lost in translation, which cracked us up.