The most beautiful band-aid in the world.

During dinner, I bumped something with my thumb, and said "ow." Paul, needing to know EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING asked, "Why you say Ow, Mommy?"

I showed him the minor cut I managed to self-inflict earlier today, and said that I had a boo-boo.

Paul nodded sympathetically, and said that I needed a band-aid.

After his bath, and once he was dressed, we went into the bathroom to cut his toenails (see post below), brush his teeth, and apply band-aids to his day-old scraped knee and my sore thumb.

With intense focus, Paul carefully peeled apart the outer wrapper of the Curious George band-aid he chose for me (refusing outright my suggestion of a plain bandage), and delicately removed the tabs from the sticky parts. He then gently placed the center of the band-aid over my boo-boo, and firmly wrapped the band-aid around my thumb.

"That feels better now, Mommy."

Yes, it does Paul, thank you. And now I have a little ache right in my heart.

Joss' Sick Days. . .

Tuesday night (March 1), Joss went to bed with a fever. Wednesday was spent napping in a Tylenol stupor. Thursday, Daddy got to stay home from work with Joss in the morning, and Mommy got to come home early from work in the afternoon.

Nothing like a dose of ibuprofen and a good nap to keep the fever at bay.

Hmm. . . It sounds different when Daddy does this.

Why won't this hat stay on?

Mommy? Can I have more medicine, please?


The next day, (Friday, March 4th) Joss had been up most of the night with fever and misery, and finally fell into a nice, deep sleep in Mommy & Daddy's bed around 6am.

So when Mommy got up to get Paul scrambled eggs, she didn't want to risk waking Joss up moving him back to his crib. This turned out to be a poor decision.

Breakfast was almost over when Mommy heard a wake-up cry from upstairs. She wiped her fingers on her napkin, kissed Paul on the head, and headed towards the stairs. First there was a soft *flumph* noise, then (as Mommy booked up the stairs) there was a *THUMP* followed by an ear-splitting shriek. Joss had pushed the pillow-barricade off the side of the bed, and took a header after it, missing the pillow. . .

At first Mommy was worried about a concussion, since Joss didn't know his name, or what year it was, and couldn't tell her how many fingers she was holding up (two, then four). However, he calmed down after lots of cuddling and kisses, his pupils were equal and reactive, and the rest of the day passed without incident.

Gotta chill out in the bath, yo. Check out my illin' goose-egg.


March 4-5, 2011

I miss you, Daddy!

Daddy - hi. mommy's making me pose for fashion shots again. Come home and help me, OK? Before she whips out the dresses again?
Please? I think we're safe until Friday. . . can you come home on Friday? Good. Love you!

So, Mommy came home from work, and Paul and Grandma Shelly were having a grand old time playing "Grandma's gonna get you as you crawl away giggling." Mommy and Grandma were talking, Paul was pulling himself up the kitchen table leg. . . and fell, hitting his head on the corner of the leg. Paul cried for about 20 seconds, then yelled at Mommy and Grandma for another 20 seconds, then began trying to pull Mommy's earrings out. He's got a bit of a bump, but is otherwise fine. Here is an artist's rendering of the second 20 seconds: