1. Freebird and I went grocery shopping tonight, and then went to “look at all the lights.” I posted a query to a local group asking where good houses with great light displays were, and one woman gave me a street in the next town over, and said it would be worth our while to get over there.

Oh my ever lovin’ electric bill. The whole house, the roof, the side yard - covered with lights. There were stars on the chimney and two nativity scenes on the lawn, light up reindeer, angels, stars and trees, and THEN their garage was open so you could walk in. Music! More light! An entire village of head-bobbing snowmen, and a big train going through a miniature town lit up with tiny lights, complete with big waterfall in the middle. Elves making toys, and going fishing in ANOTHER pond in the garage - I’m not even kidding. Freebird and I were staring at everything. He was SO stunned. I was too. It must have taken hours to set that up.

Then as we were leaving, Freebird saw a house with a few rows of blue lights outlining the windows, and he said in a really loud voice, “OH, look at THAT! BLUE lights! Go Mommy! Go see the blue lights!” So, want to impress my son with your electric holiday dazzle? Blue. It’s all about the blue.

And a giant inflatable Pooh bear will give him great joy, too.

2. Tomorrow I’m going back to work. I’ve decided not to think about it. Wonder how long I can get away with that. 

I’m in the living room listening to Hubby get both boys ready. Normally, like, say, Monday (*sigh*) I will be gone by now, on a bus into Manhattan. So I’m listening to the sounds of Hubby waking up, dressing, feeding, and talking to both Baba and Freebird, which normally I won’t hear.

It’s a weird feeling. Also sad. I don’t really want to think about Monday, but there it is, first in line on the next page of my weekly agenda. Hi there, Monday. I’m not terribly looking forward to you.

Time for coffee. Caffeine makes it better.

Good Things about Freebird that crack me up:

1. When we bring in the groceries, Freebird gets all excited about every bag. “Oooh! Look at that! Oooh! WOW! Look at that!” And when he sees the Lactaid, he says, “Oooh! Something for Freebird!”

2. After he’s done eating, which doesn’t take long because I think he’s cutting all his molars at once, he says, “Watch the ABC show with Mommy?” It’s not the request for tv that’s impossible to resist; it’s the request for me to join him. Smart boy.

3. When he’s in his crib and he doesn’t want to go to sleep, he begs to say goodnight again to “the Baby Baba.” Not just “Baba.” “The Baby Baba.” So we go say goodnight, and then, he wants to do it again. *sigh* It’s so cute and yet so crafty.

4. There is nothing better than Playdoh. Nothing. 

So can I tell you, I’m shopping NOW for Freebird’s birthday present? Yeah, I suck. But the truth is, with the recall and the lead and the who the hell knows, I don’t have time to sit and cross reference the toys with the recall lists, and damn if I can trust that it’s been taken off the online shelf in a timely fashion.

Freebird is going to be two. What the hell do I get him? So far I’m considering:

1. Geotrax starter set (the fire engine is the only thing I can find that’s been recalled - remind anyone of the red dye scare?) to see if he’d get into it or train tables or any of that stuff because Hanukkah? RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER NO FAIR.  Hanukkah this year is 5 December. Don’t even get me started. Freaking moving holidays.

2.  A pile of books and his own bookshelf with his name, plus a beanbag chair to read in.

3. I’ve got it! I’ll go to Australia and kidnap a Wiggle and have him live here with us! It’ll be like that kid who wants to keep the Verizon FIOS installation guy. Only better!

Freebird’s 2nd birthday party is coming up (and OMG when did time fly by such that I have an ALMOST TWO YEAR OLD OMGWTFBBQ?!) and I have to decide on food. We’re not hosting a big crowd - mostly family and a few toddlers for him to play with - but we’re busy, busy, exhausted people with an infant. Catering sounds very appealing.

But catered or managed by our capable hands, what would you serve? It’s from 2-4 pm so it’s going to be mostly snacks and such, but what would you serve? 

If you’re looking for an amazing company to use for a beautiful photo announcement - baby, adoption, holiday card, etc - consider Purple Stork. I’d show a sample but as a rule I rarely if ever publish photos of my children, let alone their real names, but if you’d like more info, please feel free to email me for details. I can’t say enough wonderful things about this company. 

Since Hubby went back to work today, I took both overnight feedings last night so he could get extra sleep. Here is what my house sounds like at 3am:

GRUNT GRUNT GRUNT whiiiiiine. Baba O’Riley wakes up for 3am feeding. Grunt grunt BUUUUUURP. Baba O’Riley takes first 2 ounces in .3 seconds. I consider whether I can turn his eating speed into a NASCAR career or similar speed-timed event.

MEOOOOOW MEOOOOOOW RWOOOOOOR MEOOOOOOW. Psycho cat who is on The Good Drugs is awake and yowling again. I coax him back into bed next to me so he’ll fall asleep and hush up already.

Clickity clack clickity clack. Gshlorp gshlorp gshlorp. CLANK clang CLANG clang. Gshlorp gshlorp. Logan the wonder pooch, who is on laxative AND prednisone, wakes up and taps his toenails over to the water dish for a drink that lasts about 3 and a half minutes straight. Added bonus: the dish is ceramic and keeps the water nice and cool, but his tags bounce of the side like he’s ringing handbells while he drinks. It’s like a trolley driving through the bedroom. A drinking trolley.

BUUUUUUUUUUURP. After being held upright for 5 minutes, Baba lets out a ginormous belch.

YAAAWN. That would be me.

MOMMMMMAAAA MOOOOOMMMMMMAAA. Freebird wakes up halfway, and Hubby gets up to resettle him. Soft reset - only requires re-nuk-ing (aka re-administration of pacifier), and no removal from the crib (which we call a “hard reset.")

WHINE! WHINE! thump thump SHRIIEK! Baba O’Riley strenuously objects to having his diaper changed. He HATES having his pants changed.

PBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBT. *grunt* PBBBBBBPPPLLRRRRRT. Baba O’Riley takes an enormous, stanky, explosive dump. He very much enjoys fouling a brand new diaper. He’s got mad skills. Sometimes I haven’t even walked back into our bedroom before his arse a-splodes in the pristine diaper he’s worn for less than 30 seconds.

Gulp Gulp Gulp Gulp Gulp. Baba finishes his bottle.

BRAAAAAAAAARP. Baba finishes his burping. Sometimes there’s a prize. Sometimes I have to change my pajamas from the magnitude of the prize.

ZZZzzzzzzz. Baba, Hubby, Psycho Cat, Logan and I all fall back asleep. Finally.