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.
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.
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!)
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