We have family all over the country and world.
Lots of times we wish we could see those non-Lafayette-ians more often.
Not this week.
Cousin Hailee in Connecticut, along with Paul, Liz and Caroline in Baton Rouge all have the pig flu.
so let's just go with "absence makes the heart grow fonder" or some other platitude, because we want nothing to do with any of those folks right now. Call us when you feel better :)
Despite not having swine flu, Riley had a pretty rough week. Literally.
He got beaten up, and has his first black eye.
Worse yet, his enemy, the aggressor, is one that is ever present-- the floor.
Here's the skinny. (i figured it was appropriate wordage.)
Thursday, I found Riley in his room, sitting on his bedside step stool which he had inverted.
That led to the creation of a new game, carpet sledding, wherein he is slung around the room on the stool until he either falls off or Daddy's knees/back/shoulders fail.
I have included this recreation to keep your mind in check. The meatball filled mouth is optional to the game.
Unfortunately, $10 wooden stools are not made to be used as sleds by 22 pound 11 ounce babies (that's what he weighed at our anti- starvation check-up this week).
Structural failure ensued.
Being in possession of wood glue, I stuck it all back together and left it on the counter to dry.
Now, the counter happens to be where Riley is most likely to eat.
Because of the constant pressure to make him gain weight, we have allowed some less than ideal habits to form in order to get food into his mouth.
Counter eating is one.
It allows him to do fun things like see out of the window and put batteries in kazoos.
He's usually really good at sitting up there and I have no fear of him falling.
Not so much, though, when he is playing with the wooden stool, which weighs more than a battery filled kazoo.
He was holding onto the stool, which fell off of the counter.
He wasn't smart enough to let go , so he went down with it, face first onto the ceramic tile.
He cried for a few minutes, but seemed ok.
Within a few hours though, he had some swelling.
By the next morning, the purple set in.
By Saturday, it just looked like he had odd taste in make-up.
He showed no signs of concussion or impaired vision, so no doctor's visit.
That and the fact that his bruise would probably have to be reported to Big Brother, and I'm not a big enough fan of government to subject myself to proving that I don't abuse my kid.
Now it's Sunday, and he has already fallen once on that side of his face (while crawling on tile in jeans) and also run into the corner of our footboard, hitting his cheekbone, just below that eye(for the first time in 9 months walking).
I guess he was embarrassed by the shiner, so he kept his sunglasses on all day Saturday at tailgating. Either that or he has already learned it's easier to stare at people when they can't see your eyes.
Maybe he just didn't want people asking his mommy if she beats him on her 30th birthday.
He had fun playing with Ms Bennett (sp?), but was also subjected to the brain scarring experience of "dancing" with Mr Pec. (he was safe though, Ms Daisy was there as back-up)
Even after that, all of the kids, and many of the adults had fun with Joan's cookie cake.
That evening, Riley hung out with Nonnie and Poppy while his parents got all dressed up went to Ms. Katie's wedding. We have a picture of us all dressed up, but I don't like it, so i ain't posting it.
Now Joan and I are packing up for the last of her birthday presents (after the funnel cake making kit, measuring cup, and 30 satsumas.)
We're heading to the House of Blues to see Our Lady Peace.
But before that I will dazzle you with my psychic abilities.
I can predict, based on demographics, your response to our evening plans.
If you are under 25, over 40 or have no taste in music, you said, "Who is Our Lady Peace?"
(Joan's boss is an exception, because he recently started listening ot them)
If you are between 25 and 40, and had good musical tastes in the late-90s/early- 00s, you said, "They're still around?"
Either way, you're missing out.