And Baby Makes Three: 80% of success is showing up.

It was Mom's Lunch at the daycare last Friday. Tony got dressed in a cute little summer outfit. I was ready to show those other Mom's what cute really is. I got to "school" and went to his classroom. He was no where to be found. Sonja told me he had been sleeping since 9:10am. Uh oh. It was now 11:35. I went to his crib and he was not in his cute little summer outfit. Nope, this can't be good. I said, "He must have had a rough morning." Sonja said, "He had a blowout when he was dropped off." Crap. Literally. I got him up to feed him. He drank the bottle like it was his last meal, then promptly went back to sleep, but not before throwing up all over me. I put him back in his crib and went out to where all the other mothers were. The pre-schoolers were in the middle of singing a song, then they delivered a paper flower to their moms. It was very sweet, and time for me to go. This was definitely for the big kids. I decided to sneak out the back door. I got a couple steps away and the Director came running after me. She insisted that I at least take lunch to go, so I took my turkey sandwich, plain potato chips, carrot sticks, and brownie and went back to work. Not what I imagined, but not bad either. So there's no picture from our first Mom's lunch, but as Woody Allen said, "Eighty percent of success is showing up." I call it a success.

Yesterday, not as much. When I dropped Baby Tony at school, I noticed he had thrown up in the car. It wasn't the regular kind; it was rust colored. Oh. No. Blood. Off to the doctor we went. We got in to see Dr. Vu around noon. She checked him out and everything seemed fine. Best we could figure he popped a capillary in his throat due to his new-found talent - SCREAMING! It started a couple nights ago. The young Tony likes to exercise his lungs whenever we put him down. Bloody murder, folks. So, that's explanation #1. Explanation #2 comes courtesy of Grandma Mary. Tony found his hands and it was love at first sight. He can't get enough of them. In fact, he likes them so much that he would like them to be in his mouth all the time. He also would like both of them in his mouth at the same time, but that's a logistical nightmare. His hands are in a constant fight for which one gets the coveted position. As a result, he may have scratched his gums with his little razor-sharp fingernails. Either way, it was a hectic (and scary) day. At least the first emergency trip to the doctor had a good result!