A month?

Actually, it's been more than a month. I've got some 'splaining to do. I have no actual excuse. I haven't been sick, I haven't lost my job or my mind. I just haven't been doing it. It's kinda like your laundry when you were in college. You ignore it and ignore it until it's piled so high that you can't begin to figure out how to even sort it, much less where to get started.

So I'm just going to get started without an apology or anything so sappy. So, hi. I'm back.

It's not as if life has stood still for the last month. Things have been happening. We moved into a house - an honest-to-Pete house with four bedrooms and a back yard. Hardwood floors. A dignified kitchen. A basement. (It's about thirty blocks south of our previous apartment, right on the border of White Center and south West Seattle.)

Oliver's thrilled to have his own playroom, and we're just as happy to have a living room that's not covered with his toys.


Now, it's only sprinkled with his toys. It's an improvement.

Ollie spent the last ten days recovering from a combo eye/ear infection. He came home a couple of Fridays ago with mucus dripping from the corners of both eyes. The next morning, his eyes were nearly glued shut from mucus. He was diagnosed with a mild eye infection (I think it was officially conjunctivitis, but his eyes were only barely pink) and not coincidentally, a minor ear infection on one side. He got a course of antibiotics, and it's our good fortune that he loves, loves, loves the taste of whatever sweet stuff they put in that medicine. He was thrilled every morning and night to get his dose. He never got sick besides the occasional gunk caked on his eye, so that was a relief.

He's trying out new words every day. Unusual words, too: cracker, cookie, granola, orange. "Kitty" comes out like "diddy," so he sounds like he's chasing Puffy Combs around the house all day. "Diddy, diddy, diddy."

He's recently learned the deadly combination of shaking his head "no" and nodding his head "yes." He also says the word "no" with great gusto. It's a useful word for communication, but sometimes he seems to get the mistaken impression that he can change things by expressing a negative opinion. Like, if he says no, he won't have to get his diaper changed. Or go to bed. Or put down daddy's phone. Or get pajamas put on him. It's a sad sequence: he learns yes, he learns no, and then he learns how insignificant his opinion really is.

I kid.

(But not really.)

Anyway, I'm going to do my best to post more often here. There's lots going on, and I just need to be more faithful about running this blog. I want to make sure you're getting your money's worth. Anyone who's disappointed can email me to have their subscription fees refunded.

So, anyway, here's one more gratuitous picture:

We bought the kid an easel with a roll of paper attached, so he can color and draw with abandon without running out of his chosen medium. He loves having so much space to color now, and it's a much better option than sitting down on his teeny tiny table with a couple of sheets of paper. It's much better on my knees, anyway.