Costumes and Cry Babies

So my friend Sara invited me and Declan to come to her company Halloween party yesterday afternoon. It was great. There was candy at every desk, themed food (think cheese dip molded into a witches hat, awesome), games, and activities. It rocked.

Before we could go, Rich and I put on Declan's costume.

Yeah, that sentiment deserves its own paragraph. Imagine this: we've carefully and meticulously picked out the perfect costume; the right subject matter, right size, and right warmth has all been considered. And much too much money later, we came up with the perfect thing: Floppy the Bunny.
Needless to say, he was less thrilled with the costume than we were. But, I mean, come on this thing is cute. Let's take another look.

So after some sweet tarts and a little Jerry rigging of the top part (I converted the hat into a hood via scissors and safety pins), we were off to the party.

Declan was off and running right away. Exploring, eating, just having an all around fun time. But Dec loves a staircase and would not stay away. So Sara and I took him down the stairs twice to explore the whole building.

And then we found the elevator. D loves an elevator too. So much so that right as we arrived back to the main party level, his fingers all got stuck in the elevator door. Not so that it closed on them, so that the whole time it was opening, it was crushing those little guys. I thought for a quick second that I wasn't going to be able to get them loose and I think I may have been shouting in a very high pitched way, but miraculously, they all came out, and none are even bruised today.

But it did enough to make Declan thoroughly pissed. So I gave him some more candy, which seemed to distract him enough. But, I may have given him a little too much....

The next half hour was spent watching a frantic little toddler run, fall, climb, and shriek his way around the office, all while insistently trying to go down the stairs again. Sara sweetly told me about her sister in law and what she does for trick or treating. Had I ever heard of a child harness? Yes, I nodded, yes I have.

I explain these things about Declan almost every time I talk about him, and yet I think it really takes the true experience to understand what I mean when I say he's in fast forward. And hopped up on candy yields the triple triangle fast forward. Sara gets it. I don't think she'll ever ask again why I don't take Dec to the tailgate.

Fine, here's another. Go ahead and giggle.

Infections

Sometimes, when I'm just run down or I need a little alone time, I'll say I don't feel well. What I'm really feeling is tired and overwhelmed. This is not one of those times. This is not one of those times where you can discard your "upset stomach" the moment something fun comes along. And I'm good at the faux upset stomach. It started in first grade when I somehow figured out that if I went to the nurse before Mrs. Walker's math class with an upset stomach, that meant I didn't have to go. And when I was teaching, I'd occasionally take a "sick" day. I've always just needed them to recoup or as an excuse to be excessively lazy.

But now I don't get sick days, and there's some serious karma going on because I get sick now, really yucky, sniffly, headachy sick. And while I know it's part of being a parent of a toddler, it still sucks. Because Declan and my days truly depend on being mobile. That kid cannot and does not just entertain himself at home. And he gets even more agitated if I want to do something as unimaginable as sitting down. He'll pull my finger and grunt impatiently until I get up. And when I do, he'll stop, but the moment I sit again it starts back up. So I want to get this straight: I do not ever get to sit down during the day.

So I'm sure you can imagine that the fact that we've been sick four out of the last eight weeks has made even mere existence a little, well, awful. Options are limited for life with a toddler, and a sick toddler can't go to story time, the daycare at the gym or play groups. Which leaves...not much, especially if you're not allowed to sit down.

Now I realize I shouldn't complain. Staying home with Declan is a great privilege, but I'd sure love a sick day now and then.