Ronan and I went for a ‘play’ day yesterday.  I say play as such because our little friend, Carter James, is only 8 days old and not quite up for playing.

But Ronan had a blast playing with Carter’s puppy dog, Tucker.  I have never heard him laugh as hard as he was laughing at that dog.  My silly boy took Tucker’s tennis ball, and put it up in the baby swing – Tucker knows he’s not allowed to get in or near the swing, so he was running around it sniffing.  Ronan just watched him and laughed and LAUGHED.  It was absolutely adorable.

Ronan’s new thing is to repeat what sounds like “Tickletickletickletickle” over and over.  It’s hard not to say it back to him!

Being such a gorgeous day yesterday, I threw some shorts and a tee-shirt on the boy and we went outside to play.  The neighborhood kids got a kick out of chasing Flint for almost an hour, and my dog got a great workout.  Ronan has a hard time navigating the outdoors with shoes on, and when he fell in the grass, he didn’t want to put his hands down in order to push himself back up, so he just sat there.

Ronan really wanted to play with all of the kids running around.  I absolutely LOVE spring.

Ronan’s 1 year check up was yesterday morning.  It was his well check as well as his 1 year vaccines.

I’ve always been a little nervous about the vaccination debate, but have constantly come down on the PRO side of the fence.  I’m just far more scared of Ronan dying of Mumps or Polio than I am of him getting Autism.  Truly, I can’t even say I believe there is a link.  I understand that people are concerned about the amounts of toxins in vaccinations – yes, that concerns me too.  But I’m worried about the greater evil at this point, and vaccinating him protects him from diseases that will kill him.

We showed up at the office a little early, and they called us back immediately like they always do.  The first thing I noticed was that our regular nurse wasn’t there.  We’ve had this nurse for every visit since Ronan was born, so it made me a little uncomfortable, but I was sure she would be a perfectly good stand-in.  They checked Ronan’s weight (33.5 pounds), his height (30.5 inches) and his head circumference (I don’t know the number, but it’s 95th percentile.  Huge noggin.)  She asked me if I had an questions, and then left to get the doctor.

The doctor came in, and we addressed all of my concerns (can he chew on toothbrushes? is his heart rate normal when he’s very worked up? is there any reason to take him off of his Prevacid?)  He did the physical examination and told me that Ronan looked fantastic, and that we needed to keep up the good work.  I asked about Ronan’s lack of speech development, and he said it’s so early, don’t worry about it yet.  Then he told me the nurse would be in shortly to give him his shots, and we would be on our way.

The nurse came back in, signed our vaccination card, and prepped her business.  She had me lay Ronan down sideways on the exam table, bent his legs over the side, and leaned into them so he couldn’t kick.  She then alcohol swabbed both of his thighs, apologized to him once, and then started injecting.  She did two in his right leg, and then one in his left.  At this point, he was screaming and squirming so hard he knocked the last syringe off of the table.  I looked down long enough to watch the cap go skittering across the floor.  I watched, mind numb, as she bent down to pick up the cap-less syringe, look at it contemplatively for about 2 seconds, and then proceed to shove the needle into my son’s leg.

The needle that had just been UNCAPPED on the FLOOR.

The whole thing, from start to finish, took less than 30 seconds.  I didn’t even have the time to make a sound of protest before she had injected the contents of the contaminated syringe into my child.  I could feel my face get hot, and my hands start to shake.  She turned around, gathered her things and said, “You’re good to go!” before leaving.  I hadn’t even picked Ronan up off of the table before she was out of the room.

I took a few minutes to gather my emotions, calmed Ronan down and dressed him again.  I put all of our things in the baby bag, and then walked out to check out.  I looked around to locate nurse that had just failed at basic sterile technique as well as basic common sense, and then told the check out lady what had just happened.  She asked me what the name of the nurse was.  Just then, our physician walked up and I asked him, “What was the name of the nurse that took care of us this afternoon?”  He told me, and the check out lady called him around the desk.  She said, “Tell him what you just told me,” and I did.

He looked very concerned, but said, “I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.  Everything will probably be fine.  We will write up an incident report and file it just in case.”

I told him that I didn’t think it would turn into anything, but if it did, I didn’t want to be hit with the, “WHY didn’t you tell us when it happened?”

I then turned around and left.

On my way out, I imagined the doctor going up to the nurse and chewing her out thoroughly for doing something so utterly stupid.  I imagined him telling her that something like that was worth her job.  I imagined her crying because she didn’t know what possessed her to do it, and couldn’t believe it herself.  I don’t know what really happened, but that’s what I imagine.

So far, everything looks fine.  There doesn’t seem to be any redness or irritation, and Ronan’s been a champ just like he always is after shots.  Let’s hope it continues that way.

Ronan was 7 pounds 4 ounces, and 21 inches long.

Ronan was perfect.

Ronan entranced his mommy and daddy from the first moment they saw him.

Ronan smiled at 4 weeks old.

Ronan would only nap during the day when the vacuum was running.

Ronan laughed for the first time when Mommy, daddy and Nana all could hear it.

Ronan didn’t like to sleep alone, so he slept with his mum.

Ronan loved the bath from his very first.

Ronan was a pro at tummy-time.

Ronan grew up so quickly.

Ronan got his first tooth at 3 and a half months old.

Ronan army crawled when he was 5 months old.

Ronan never learned how to jump.

Ronan would smile and splash in the swimming pool.

Ronan loved to be outside at the lake.

Ronan ate avocado as his very first solid food.

Ronan keeps getting older, and just wont slow down.

Ronan is an enthusiastic walker.

Ronan loves to feed himself, and loves food in general.

Ronan never gets more excited than when his daddy gets home from work.

Ronan doesn’t like to sleep very much.

Ronan can make a thousand sounds with his mouth, and none of them are real words.

Ronan giggles at almost everything.

Ronan is a deep and contemplative fellow.

Ronan likes to figure out how to put things together, and pull them apart again.

Ronan loves to go up the stairs.

Ronan hates to fall.

Ronan enjoys his bath time with gusto, splashing and squealing the whole time.

Ronan hates to lie back flat in the water, but he’s getting better.

Ronan loves his blue teddy bear, affectionately referred to as “Blue.”

Ronan gives the worlds best hugs.

Ronan is never very happy to be in the car.

Ronan doesn’t like having his diaper changed.

Ronan will throw a big pout when told “No!”

Ronan and Flint are best buddies.

Ronan desperately wants to catch the cat some day.

Ronan isn’t tired of being breastfed yet, and we are all okay with that.

Ronan totally loves playdates with his favorite girls.

Ronan knows if Mommy and Daddy are eating something, he should be too.

Ronan can sign “More” and “All Done” but frequently signs both instead.

Ronan is afraid of loud noises.

Ronan makes the funniest sound when he wants something, sounds a little like a squeak.

Ronan hasn’t found something he wont eat yet.

Ronan loves to spend time outside.

Ronan is afraid of the vacuum cleaner.

Ronan makes everyone fall in love with him, and his beautiful blue eyes.

Ronan will make you laugh, and then laugh with you.

Ronan waves “bye-bye” to his food when he’s done.

Ronan is one year old today.

Happy Birthday my sweet son.  You have given us the best year of our lives.

Ronan’s first birthday party was today.  All of our very best and most wonderful friends came.  I was so so very worried about it for NOTHING at all.  It was amazing, and I think everyone had a great time.  Short of a few birthday boy melt-downs, it couldn’t have gone better.

Here are some pictures of our Ronan’s big day.

Ronan LOVES balloons!

Sweet Farah!

Walkin’ man and his birthday balloons.

Our party guests – so many amazing people.  (The other half were in the kitchen.)

Do you see anything wrong with this picture?  Let me give you a hint… helium balloon + candle = FAIL.

Balloon popped and scared him silly.  He cried until he tasted the icing.

“Hmm.  This is pretty good actually.”

“This gets it to my mouth faster.”

WIN.

Quick bath, wardrobe change, and BACK in the party!

Hooray!  Presents!

Thank you SO much to everyone who came!  Until next year…

… unless you let your son fall and smash his face open the day before his first birthday party.

I am a GREAT mom.

I came home from work and found this one on my camera.  I’ll bet you that this makes your day.  So far, it’s made mine twice already.  LOVE!

I totally can’t let this go.

Last week, I was visiting with some friends and having a great time.  There was me, Ronan, my two friends, and their sister with her 4 month old.  The two friends are married and pregnant, and I sometimes feel it is my duty to impart bits of wisdom that will help a new mom in ways that I was completely clueless after having my first.  You know, little things that no one remembers to tell you, and when you’re going through it yourself you wonder, “Why didn’t anyone tell me this?!”

At one point, I looked down at Ronan who was being a little pill and remarked, “No one will ever tell you how hard it is.  I mean, I had no idea how utterly and completely difficult it would be.”

My pregnant friend said, “I’m sure they TRY, but you don’t really understand what they’re talking about until you’re going through it.”

“Very true!” I agreed.

Her sister, holding her sweet 4 month old baby, said, “Yeah.  It’s so hard in the beginning.  But it’s gotten easy now.  It’s not really hard any more.”

I’m not kidding, I think I did a double-take.  Not hard any more?

I honestly can’t remember a time when it wasn’t hard.  It surely wasn’t when Ronan was 4 months old and teething.  It’s not even NOW, when he’s trying to be all independent and grown up.  It’s still hard as crap.  I still have days where I can’t believe how hard it is, and nights where I don’t want to have to deal with how hard it is.

I try to give myself the benefit of the doubt.  I still don’t get to sleep all night.  I still have to work full time hours.  My shift is horrible, and throws off my rhythm all week.  But, between you and me, I think I have a pretty good kid.  He’s even tempered, he takes good naps, he plays all alone like a pro; despite all of this, there are times when I just wish it were easier.  Today, we’ve only been up for an hour, and he’s already made me want to pull my hair out three times.

He wanted a bottle, so I gave it to him.  He took three big sucks off of the bottle, and then spit it out all over the couch.  Then he used the bottle like a pen, and drew all over the black leather in sticky milk.

I finished my bowl of cereal, but I don’t really like to drink the milk out of the bottom.  Ronan crawled over and asked for some, and I told him it was all gone.  He got mad and put his hand into the bowl and splashed it around.  I told him, “No, Ronan!  You don’t do that!”  He looked me straight in my face and started screaming.  I love a good temper tantrum early in the morning.

I picked him up and brought him into the bedroom for a nap, because it was obvious he was having a little trouble.  I laid him down, sat next to him, and started patting his back.  He laid there calmly for about 5 minutes, and then started tossing, turning, squirming and screaming.  I kept him down for about 15 more minutes before giving up.

Now, we are back out in the living room, where I put on Finding Nemo so I could have 15 minutes of quiet time.  He’s drinking out of his straw cup, where he’ll take 5 or 6 big swallows, and then he’ll spit the next two out.  Sometimes, it’s all I can do to keep my patience.

So, I don’t know if it’s her, and she’s just putting up a good front because the fun stuff is fun, or if perhaps she has the perfect baby and it ISN’T hard for her anymore… or it it’s just me, and I’m a terrible mom because I find this to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life.  And I don’t see it getting any easier any time soon.

I have done everything possible in the last hour to avoid writing a blog.

I don’t even know why.  There is NOTHING coming to my mind about what I would like to write about today.

Then I realized that I could celebrate a breakthrough last night.  Only I don’t want to jinx it.  I’ll just put it succinctly… I got some sleep last night.  And Ronan did too.  That’s all I’m going to say about it for now.

Birthday party anxiety is ramping up.  Way up.  So far, I have 14 people RSVP’d and are coming to my tiny little house.  My tiny, little, dirty house.  I’m planning on working on that today – you know, since I’m all rested up.

What does any of this have to do with the title of my blog?  I love it when Ronan is napping.  I swear, God invented naps to preserve mothers’ sanity.  I could genuflect over naps alone.

Goals for today?

• New baby gate at Target
• Kitchen tidied and cleaned.
• Floors swept/mopped.
• Living room tidied.
• Laundry DONE!
• Bonus goal: Clean master bathroom.
• Bonus goal: Clean and organize baby room.

I’ll admit, my expectations for today are a little unrealistic, but why not aim high?  We’re getting the trip to Target out of the way early.

And right here, I’d like to do a little celebratory dance… just days from my son’s first birthday, we FINALLY have him paid off.  *dance*

I took two days off.  I don’t really know why… I have been so good about posting every day, it just didn’t come to me yesterday.  Or the day before.

Today, I’m watching the Biggest Loser.  I effin love this show.

So, I’m planning a birthday party for Ronan.  Only, sort of.  I’m totally unable to handle doing things like this.  I don’t want to have a bunch of people at my house, and I don’t want to try to make sure everyone has fun.  We have a ton of friends without kids that we want to come, and a ton of friends WITH kids that we want to come.  How do I make sure that everyone is having fun?  No one will know each other.

I know, I’m stressing over this for nothing.  It will just be fun, I know it.  It’s not a big deal.  I don’t know why I’m so anxious about it.  Same as everything else with this kid:  it seems a lot scarier when I’m thinking about it than when I’m actually doing it.

In other news, Ronan has the funniest poop squat ever.  He always goes to the dog crate to poop.  It’s hilarious.

Okay, so what else is going on?

Evidently, in my last post about sleep, some people that I care about very much felt like I was implying that they lie to me about their children sleeping.

First, I want to apologize.  It was never my intention to behave as though I think that everyone lies.  Nor was it my intent to act as though the fact that your children DO sleep through the night is something bad or that you should be ashamed of, regardless of how you got them there.

My point REALLY was that I used to lie to people about how Ronan sleeps.  I got so tired of hearing people telling me that I just need to let him cry, or that there must be something wrong with him because he doesn’t sleep, that when I was asked if he sleeps through the night, I would simply answer “Yes.”

I lied because it felt like I needed to.  I was tired of feeling like I was a failure as a parent because he didn’t sleep.  I don’t feel that way any more.  I don’t equate sleep with skill.  To me, they simply don’t connect.  Maybe that’s my way of protecting myself, but I really feel like every child is different.  And it’s okay that mine doesn’t sleep.

So.  I’m sorry.  I don’t hate you because your baby sleeps, and always has.  I don’t think any of YOU are lying to me about it.  But, hells yes I’m JEALOUS!  I know my time will come.  And I’m okay with how things are.

It’d be really nice if my next kid could sleep through the night.  I could really just love that.

Ronan has figured out the “all done” sign, but not exactly what it means.  When asked, “Do you want more or are you all done?” he will obligingly sign “more” and then “all done.”  It’s terribly cute, if not at all helpful.

And I love my hugs, whenever I can get them.