What the CDC didn't tell us about h1n1

That you will pity your poor, sick child so intensely, and want so desperately to cheer her up when she's feeling absolutely, horribly awful, you'll do something that at any other time would make you shudder with distaste. Would make you break out in a ferocious and unsightly rash. Would make your stomach roll with queasiness.

And what is this most horrible, horrible thing, you might ask? Well, I'll tell you. Brace yourself.

You will buy your sad, sad five year old a dreadful polyester sweater(?) constructed entirely out of a dead muppet, that you are surely allergic to, all because of her sad, drippy, feverish blue eyes. I am at once ashamed and confused, but there it is.


Let's hope she's fully recovered soon. I clearly cannot trust myself to act sanely right now. The upside of this is if I cannot finish her Halloween costume in between caring for sick kids, she can always go as Abby Cadabby.

Our fall tradition

A trip to a pumpkin patch and/or orchard has been part of our autumn adventure line-up since Wonderboy was a wee little 5 month old. We love it. The kids LOVE it. So the pressure was on to find ourselves a new patch/orchard to visit here in Illinois, that would compare to our favorite Kansas haunts. We bundled up (winter has apparently arrived around here?), and found pumpkins, picked apples, discovered a cider mill (and filled our bellies with cider doughnuts!), and visited a handful of farm animals as well. The farm was under the vigilant care of a bloodhound named Beau, who didn't hold still enough for a photo, because bloodhounding, as it turns out, is a full-time job requiring a lot of running about and sniffing out doughnut crumbs.

Just itchin' to pick some pumpkins.

Some serious pumpkin-pickin'-strategizing going on in his head.

Official apple samper

Just the anticipation of a cider doughnut fills his little heart with glee.

He seems to be enjoying his doughnut quite a lot, no?

Ted.

Hissy & Fit

???

Three of the cutest pumpkins ever? Yup.

Daisy. 20.00 hours.

Status: Useful

A Conversation

After proving particularly courageous at the pediatrician's office this morning, having submitted, tear-free, to a vaccination in each leg, Bubs chose a cookie and drink at Whole Foods to reward himself. (And, well, I rewarded myself with a drink as well, Izze lime to be exact, for no particular reason, but that's neither here nor there.) After enjoying his own drink for a moment, he checked to see if I was watching and then veeerrrrryyyy slowly slid his little hand over to grasp my bottle and then whisked it to his mouth for a huge swig.

Me: I think maybe you're sneaky.

Bubs: Mommy, I not sneaky... I Finn.