Lots of thankfulness. And finals.

No matter how many times I go back to school, I never learn. I always think I have a handle on things until a few weeks before the end of the semester, and then all hell breaks loose.

To be fair, I think I'd be doing OK this time around if not for Ford's protracted bout with every kind of cootie imaginable. But still, from a "papers and projects and finals, oh my!" perspective, things are looking pretty dire at present.

I'll try to still post a couple photos a week, although due to shortfalls in both mental space and time to jot down thoughts, the next couple may be short on substance.

We had one last pre-finals getaway for Thanksgiving: as has become our tradition, we rented a cabin, played in the snow, Seth hunted, and we had a festive if makeshift meal. 

We stayed in a ski condo in the Finger Lakes, where we loved having the fireplace,

Ford discovered stuffing,

and we #opt(ed)outside for Black Friday.

The kids loved the indoor water park, which had terrifically warm water (and wasn't as filthy and germ-ridden as most.) Seth and Finley marched around like they owned the place,

and Ford looked a little nervous at first

but ended up spending literally hours in the indoor-outdoor pool, where he loved seeing the steam rise off the pool and snow on the ground. He's a swimming phenom and didn't want to get out.

Seth also introduced Finley to her first arcade. She's a kid after her Dad's own heart, and it was obviously a hit.

We also discovered our new favorite children's science museum, in Ithaca, and loved that both kids were big enough to enjoy it.

We stopped for Turkish food on the way home, where Finley looked way too comfortable drinking out of this golden chalice.

Sunday Seth celebrated his fourth Alive Day in a treestand and watched football on the couch with Ford,

and Finley got cupcakes

And helped herself to early-arriving Christmas presents while singing "happy birthday to me." She really does think every day is her birthday. 

In my next life, I'm coming back as Finley (pictured here stealing my favorite coffee mug.).

Photos of the week are videos. Ford's getting to be such a big guy, he can sit up like a boss, is working on crawling, and scoots around on the floor (although he usually goes backwards.) I haven't been terribly successful at catching the action, but tried here.

Anddddd what has become our at-least daily concert. Finley loves her guitar and she dances around the house with it like a one-man mariachi band, looking for an audience. Ford is her favorite mark. Here she's trying out some new material with those "chugga chuggas."

A weekend away, and the end of the world's longest second birthday extravaganza.

Finley's going to be incredibly disappointed when she realizes her three week long birthday celebration has come to a close and she no longer gets cupcakes for breakfast. We're not sure how to break the news, although we're pretty sure we're going to keep letting her think all of our Amazon Prime packages are for her. Largely because she hilariously sings "happy birthday to Finley" every time the delivery guy comes and never seems disappointed that she got diapers, for example, or any number of ungulate urine products Seth's been ordering for hunting season.

It was a good run, though. She got a whole birthday weekend on her real birthday, had cupcakes at daycare (with Dad's attendance), repossessed Aunt Michelle's Halloween cupcakes and ate them for breakfast regularly, and yesterday she had the time of her life at her party.

And this was on top of a long weekend with Grandma and Grandpa, who graciously took loads of time off work to visit this weekend to accommodate Seth's AOC exercise and give him a hand while I enjoyed my first kidless weekend away in more than a year and a half. (But not before getting enough overlap time to snag a date night with Seth and catch a couple of Ford's adorable couch naps with Grandpa.)

With a sprained ankle and two kids with nasty colds who had been taking turns waking up at night, I almost cancelled about a million times, including Friday morning when both kids woke up coughing as I tried to sneak out the door to catch my insanely early morning flight. But Seth snuggled them both and told me to run for it, and off to the airport for my adventure I sped, barely making my flight.

As is always the way, of course I was glad I had made myself go. I missed my babies madly, but knew they were enjoying time with Grandma and Grandpa, who sent pictures like this one.

Seth got to go deer hunting, covered in aforementioned vile substances, without having to negotiate down to the minute and hear about how much paper writing I was not getting done while he sat in a treestand.

And I got to fly with only one bag, drink beer in the middle of the day, road trip on my own schedule, and sleep seven hours at a glorious stretch.

I love Texas, especially Austin, and Jackie and I spent a "life well lived" Friday riding bikes around Town Lake, stopping for beer and tacos in 70 degree weather. (Pretty much our dream come true.) We made pilgrimages to Chuy's and the cupcake truck. We roadtripped to Shiner with the windows down and music blaring. 

Saturday, April kept me company while I hobbled the 5k instead of the half marathon I had intended to run and- although wildly disappointed about this- I felt better after enjoying post-run beers on the lawn in front of the Shiner Brewery. My own personal version of heaven.

Back in Austin, we had a girls' night on the town complete with live music and Home Slice pizza before an early morning flight to get back in time for Finley's party.  The weekend had been just what the doctor ordered.

So naturally, it snowed and iced at home, my flight was delayed, and I had multiple panic attacks before pulling up to the house seconds before Finley's party, smelling like the floor of a bar and looking liked I had been dragged in by a bus. Seth and his parents had done all of the party prep, and I did not feel like the Mom of the Year (although I bought Finley off for my absence with new pink cowboy boots.) 

But they had done a bang-up job, and the party was a rousing success, complete with bear meat steaks, Tumblebus fun, Jayne's beautiful cupcakes ground into the carpet, markers on the wall, an incredibly loud kid jam session with drums and guitars (why do we have such loud toys??), plenty of beer for the grownups, and a good time had by all.

Finley slept like a rock last night, and Tony & Jayne cleaned up our biohazard of a house while we put her and Ford to bed, so we definitely feel like we nailed it. (And could not be more grateful for grandparents.)

Although she had her last cupcake for breakfast this morning, so tomorrow is going to be a rough return to the real world for the birthday princess.

Tony & Jayne headed back home today too, and with Finley's birthday down and a low key Thanksgiving getaway planned this week, it's hard to believe that the next big thing is the holidays. I can't even begin to contemplate all the schoolwork I have to squeeze in between now and then (not to mention Christmas cards and shopping)(this may be a gift card year), but a month from now we'll be headed west for our crazy Christmas adventure.

Mind. Blown.

The photos of the week are Finley in her batgirl costume from Heather & Jim (a real crackup),

and these amazing videos from the birthday jam session.

Election Day disaster (not exactly what you think.)

Election Day dawned sunny and warm, and the excitement in the air was palpable as I drove by small town voting booths on my way to the city, which had all but shut down for the day. New York City public schools were off for the occasion since most of them turned into polling places. As I walked to school past families taking their kids to vote, I reflected that this really should be a holiday everywhere (for many, many reasons. But I digress.) 

Seth and I had sent in our absentee ballots weeks ago, and my last class of the day let out an hour and change early. By then, it was actually in the 70s with fall still evident in the burnt orange trees, and I couldn't resist. On my way home, I stopped and bought the first pair of running shoes in my size I could find (for once I didn't have any in my car)  and detoured to Hook Mountain in Nyack for a quick run up the rocky northern palisades. It was beautiful.

And then, because I must have the worst luck in the entire f-ing planet (or perhaps because I had opted to run a rocky, leaf-covered trail a little too fast in lightweight road shoes), disaster struck. I slipped, skidded, and rolled an ankle, and it hurt. I had to hobble the last couple miles back. I spent the early evening like this (Finley wanted a ice pack too):

and just as election coverage was getting interesting, had to make an emergency room trip, leaving with crutches, a boot, and- yes- a bottle of motrin.

It was just a bad sprain, but with two kids who still needed carrying, a parking garage more than a mile from school, a million things that need done to keep our nutty household running, and a half marathon planned for the following weekend (in Texas!)... it was pretty devastating news.

Of course, we stayed up all night watching the nail-biting election coverage, and it turned out that- in retrospect- falling down a mountain had been the nicest thing that happened that day.

And so went the week. We processed election news in stages, took turns being frustrated over our social media feeds and cable news and people everywhere, and coped with the schedule upending caused by my crutch-induced inability to handle morning daycare dropoff. Seth stepped it up around the house, handled mornings on his own while I squeezed in physical therapy appointments, and- generally- put up with being snapped at because I hate being off my game (and after the last couple insanely stressful weeks with a sick Ford, hobbling miles around the city in the rain on crutches and trying to rejuggle complicated schedules and make dinner hopping on one foot while Finley ran off with my crutches just seemed like a bridge too far.)

It wasn't pretty (by any wild stretch of the imagination) but we made it.

By the time the long weekend rolled around, our social media feeds filled with pictures of veterans, I got to ditch the crutches for an unwieldy boot, and the weather held up for one last weekend at grasshopper grove.

We tried to split our time so that I could get caught up on schoolwork and Seth could escape to his deer stand (although- hmmmppph- I'm not sure that thousands of pages of reading should count as my "me time.") Not to mention that this adorable face is not super conducive to paper writing.

We did finally make it to the Great Jack O'Lantern Blaze (yes, that's my still-impressive black eye, causing us all to wonder why they weren't a little more concerned when I also showed up in the ER with a sprain),

Seth cleaned out the garage, and the kids and I got the Christmas tree up. Which was no small feat (and Sara still beat me to it this year!)

 

And now we're muddling/hobbling through another week. I'm fighting off being majorly bummed that my first weekend away/ girls' running weekend in as long as I can remember is ruined by the fact that even jogging the 5k may not happen. Since a brisk walk around the block still requires an ice pack.

But Tony & Jayne get here for Finley's belated birthday party tomorrow. And her hair now fits in a ponytail, which she adorably calls an "a-po-tale" and demands whenever she happens to think of it. Seth has really stepped up his hairstyling game, and watching him try to get the tiny rubber bands around his fingers while Finley waits not-patiently always makes my day. (This was after a particularly insistent demand for two. After I obliged, we realized she looked like a tiny stegosaurus.)

And- these have to be the pictures of the week- Ford is finally big enough to play with Finley's toys, and gets no end of enjoyment out of stealing them.

Oh, and one more (I hope this works!) Finley loves her new guitar, and plays her favorite, "Shoo Fly," for Ford sometimes. She also walks up and down the halls strumming it and singing "I feel... I feel... I feel (like a morning star)" and it kills us every time.

 

Farewell to #twoundertwo

Seth reminded me yesterday that I hadn't even intended to celebrate Finley's birthday this weekend. We're waiting until Tony & Jayne are here to do her party, and this weekend was kind of shot due to Seth's all-weekend AOC exercise anyway.

But that was before I had let it slip that Finley mighttttt be getting the present of her dreams from Aunt Missy. For weeks, she's been telling us that she wants a helmet for her birthday every time the subject comes up. Missy had ordered her an adorable pink one with cat ears, and I think Finley suspected as much. We couldn't make her wait for it any longer.

Saturday morning we were having groggy early morning snuggle time in Mom & Dad's bed to the sounds of Disney Junior when Finley climbed down and padded down the hallway in search of something or other she had decided she had to have. When she didn't come right back with it, I finally got a little worried and dragged myself out of bed to find her. And came upon this scene.

She had stumbled on her pile of presents and was delightedly playing with the leapfrog flashlight from Ben & Lisa on top.  When she saw me, she hopped up, went to the kitchen, got herself a butter knife out of the drawer, brought it to me, and demanded "help!" while gesturing at the boxes she had figured out contained presents.

So we spent the morning eating leftover Halloween cupcakes (thank goodness for Michelle's Georgetown cupcakes delivery!) and watching Finley open her presents. She loved them all. 

The helmet was obviously the highlight. She has rarely taken it off since. Although it was kind of hilarious: she opened the box, lifted out the helmet, examined it gleefully, put it on her head, and then leveled me with a steely gaze and said: "bike." As if to say, "now that I've got the helmet, I'm going to need a big girl bike." 

Seth got a break from his exercise for the Army- Air Force game, and Finley was hoping for a birthday win. Sadly, it was not to be- but it did bring Uncle Aaron and Zoe to town, so we had post-game pizza and tea parties, and this ridiculous balloon game the girls invented.

And then Finley pooped on the floor.

What a way to cap off two, just when we were starting to get sentimental about how big Finley had gotten. It was apropos. Those of us who didn't go to bed in the throes of a sugar crash ended the day laughing. (And scrubbing.)

Which is a good thing, because we'd all been desperately in need of a laugh.We had finally managed to get Ford back into daycare (and I got to go for a gorgeous run in the Gunks that involved this fun rocky scramble and glorious view), where he hung on for exactly one day before projectile vomiting and being ejected. I trekked back to the doctor with him, only to find that his eardrums had both ruptured, poor little guy.

Not that you'd know it. He's such a sweet, smiley guy he's happy even when he's miserable. This is him hanging out in Dad's egg chair at work, when I took him down to USMA on a jog to avoid going insane from foregone workouts.

And earlier that day, upon his rescue and immediately after throwing up all over his classroom)

And hanging out with Uncle Ashton, who visited earlier in the week. 

The strain has taken a toll, though, smiley babies notwithstanding. Ford's prolonged sickness had cost me two days of school and three critical writing days, and I was starting to panic. We're deeply committed to daycare and think it's great for the kids, but have had to start thinking about the possibility of a full time nanny. We're at the beginning of cold and flu season, and already can't afford to take any more time off. We'll see. Currently, we're hoping for a healthy winter (and good research paper karma.) It doesn't seem like a reliable plan. The whole thing is nerve-wracking, and neither of us have been particularly easy to get along with as we juggle school and work and sick kids and sleep deprivation. (And don't even get me started on daylight savings time.)

So Finley's birthday was a much-needed bright spot, and things do seem to be looking up this week. Daycare hasn't called yet today, a fact that I find so shocking I actually checked my phone to make sure it was on, and Finley and I finished off the cupcakes for breakfast. In our underwear and cowboy hats. On the bathroom floor. While Ford eyeballed the massive black eye his sister gave me yesterday and spat his medicine at us. Because... Monday. Here's to a better week! 

Two photos of the week: a retrospective (we can't believe it's been two years!)

and a fitting and funny farewell to #twoundertwo, from my crazy Sunday at home alone with the heathens.

OK, one more. I love this one because it's so... Finley. Marching down the hallway at CDC with her reindeer hat on sideways. Like a boss.

Dead bears, sick babies, and another year of the duck costume.

I will never be one of those people who wonders what stay at home Moms do all day. (Don't think they're out there? You don't read as many Mom blogs as I do.) 

What I can't help but wonder is how in the hell they ever take a shower. 

And forget working out. The other day it took me 3.5 hours to get in about 22 minutes of cardio. Only pure stubbornness kept me and Jillian Michaels going.

We're on day 6 of a sick Ford. Seth picked him up Wednesday from daycare upon notification of an ear infection (Finley never had one, so we weren't on the lookout), and even after I spent both work-at-home days hanging out with him instead of doing any actual working (or working out), he got worse instead of better.

In the meantime, we pulled off a truly crazy juggling act to still manage a work dinner for Seth, Finley's harvest festival, 

and the aftermath of the Great Bear Eradication of 2016. (Seth finally got to go hunting, and killed a big black bear with his bow. Which may or may not have been the one that has been terrorizing our neighborhood. I've learned it's better not to ask these sorts of questions.) A couple trips to a remarkably efficient processor later, Seth and Finley kicked off the week with bear sausages. Yeehaw.

By Friday I was starting to get major sick baby cabin fever. Thankfully, Michelle sent cupcakes

and Seth took Ford so Finley and I could have a date night. I'm pretty certain I never pictured a Friday night date involving a Target run and a trip to Chili's, but it was hilarious. And I have always had a soft spot for the molten lava cakes. I was pleased to see that the apple doesn't fall from the tree there. (Not that many toddlers turn down gooey chocolate and their own spoon.)

The weekend weather took a sudden turn for the warm and sunny after a cold, blustery week stuck indoors, and we got in a family hike through Bear Mountain and to the Bear Mountain Zoo. The highlight was obviously Seth's reciprocated turkey calls, which both Finley and the turkeys loved, and which attracted quite a crowd. (For some reason, that I neglected to photograph, but I took like ten shots of them looking at the swans.)

And poor Ford, who had been sleepless for days, racked out in Finley's Tula, to her eternal indignation and my fervent relief.

We enjoyed a much-needed weekend at home, and got stuff done around the house. Seth took the kids for a couple hours while I skated out for a much-needed trail run, and watched Army football with friends up the hill while Finley and I went to the nature museum for some outside time 

and stopped by Jones Farm, where a Very Aggressive Chicken snatched this cookie out of her hand just seconds after this photo was taken. Finley, while shrieking in terror, somehow managed to snatch it back. And shove it back in her mouth. 

It's possible that I have never been more proud.

By Monday, Ford was hacking and coughing and looked like death warmed over. Daycare was definitely not going to take him. I couldn't afford to skip class and was panicky. As usual, though, the guy who rarely does laundry, can't find the cooking utensils, and never, ever (did I mention ever?) gets up with kids in the middle of the night... came through in a huge way when the chips were down.

He simply scooped up Ford and the travel pack & play, inquired when his next bottle was due, and took the little guy to work with him. On Sports Fanatic Day, no less (don't ask), in a matching jersey. Ford apparently took meetings, napped in the corner, and prevented everybody from getting anything done otherwise. (I was reminded of the time I came down with meninigitis just hours before Seth was due to leave for his grandfather's funeral, and he matter-of-factly secured an infant ticket and took a tiny Finley and a cooler of frozen milk with him.) 

I'll put in an awful lot of wee morning hours for a guy who simply does what needs to be done in a pinch, and always comes through for his kids.

Naturally, West Point (aka Stepford) displayed zero concern for families with two working parents, and scheduled Halloween festivities for 3:30 on Monday. We muddled through, the kids nearly froze to death, the fire truck parade was an hour late (and, apparently, terrifying), and Finley hated trick or treating. But she loved giving out (and sampling) candy, and her Sheriff Callie costume. Also, she discovered tootsie roll pops. And Ford tolerated the duck costume.

I kept a still-sick Ford home again today, having arranged to cut class, and thought "well, why not?" and kept Finley home too. Turned out to be a treat to get a day at home with them. We cooked up a storm, played at the park, and finally got Ford some decent antibiotics after securing a bronchiolitis diagnosis (but not before Finley terrorized the doctor's office, insisting on stripping and covering herself in stickers while we waited.)

Also, she apparently learned how to take selfies. The kid who refuses to look at a phone camera held by anyone else, spent a full 20 minutes saying "cheese" to my phone while I fed Ford, and took about 800 of these.

Still, the photo of the week is this awesome side-by-side of Finley and Ford in the duck costume. 

Here's to a quick (ifthereisagod) recovery for Ford, and hope everybody had a happy Halloween!