At abount this time, I was being sent back from the hospital after being told I wasn't in labor. I went home and promptly defied them by having my water break and dilating from 0 to 9 cm in 20 minutes! HA! That'll show you to tell me I don't know what's going on in my own body.
Nonetheless, today is Conor's official birthday. We had the birthday party this weekend which was about as fun as I could have wished for. (Despite the fact that I had a melt-down a few days before trying to figure out when the "right" time was for a toddler's party and what order one is supposed to "do" things---I mean you don't have an hour long cocktail hour with toddlers to let everyone get warmed up!) We had two of Conor's friends over from the New Parent's Club, the families who we met in childbirth class and who had our children all together.
There were two incredibly cute moments (ok, there were three) involving all of the children. The first is when they all set around the kiddie table eating their cake and ice cream. It was childish and grown-up at the same time and I thought my heart would explode. And then, when Conor got his new tricycle, all three of the children boarded the various cars and trikes we have and rode around the deck like a muted pastel adorned toddler biker gang. Again, heart bursting with love. Then we re-enacted last year's pose with all three children on the hammock, which is adorable not because they lie there and look cute but because they think it's weird and they squirm around and they look goofy and THAT is beyond the most adorable thing I've ever seen.
And even with all that excitement and all the toys and all the sugar and all the rolling around and going flop in the grass with his friends, Conor did not melt down. (He saved that for the next day) Instead, he was a fine host and birthday boy. We were able to even go through our entire bedtime routine in just over 30 minutes, which only 10 days ago took 1.5 hours, but for the last 9 days has taken approximately 30 minutes, maybe a little more with a bath, and has been accomplished entirely TEAR FREE and involves simply, truthfully, and honestly, a LIST of what we're going to do when we go to bed that we wrote on a notecard and taped on the wall and point out to him regularly throughout the bedtime routine. 30 minutes!!!! 3o MINUTES!!!!! And then I put him down fully smiling and tuck him in and put his blankie on him and put Bearie and Monkie and Dora (the cow) by him, along with his new favorite truck book and the CHILD GOES STRAIGHT TO SLEEP WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE!!!!!
Happy Birthday to ME!
OK, back to Conor's birthday party.
The night's adventures did not end with the sleeping of the birthday boy. No, apparently some Owls were attracted to our shennanigans (or perhaps the tasty morsels they had seen earlier riding their bikes) and came to check us out. Closer. Closer still. Close to the point that they were in a tree limb just above our heads staring down at us, picking out which ones they were going to swoop down and get. Even with us shining a high powered flashlight at them, the owls stood their limb and stared at us. This is the guy, a barred owl.
There were two of our heads he was deciding between: me, with my large, fluffy pony tail closely resembling a giant squirrel, and my father, with his already bared head, skinned of fur and ripe for the pecking. I would like to say that eventually, Mr. Woodsie Owl went away. But he didn't. He hopped up to more distant branches hidden behind leaves and screeched and peered at us.
Despite leaving us alone, Mr. Woodsie has risen to the top of the list of suspects for the Opossum killing of Summer 2006. The alleged murder took place late last week and we were alerted to it by the incessant barking of dogs in the neighborhood. SO WHAT if one of those dogs was Patches. It makes us sound less responsible when it's "dogs in the neighborhood" as opposed to our own ceaselessly barking collie.
Last night was it, though. We are tired of hearing Patches barking at 2 am at every cat who crosses the street. Dave gave him strict orders: If you bark out the front door again before the sun comes up, there had better be somebody standing on the porch . Conor is sleeping well through the night. But we're getting regular adrenaline rushes shooting out of bed to quiet our over alert, cat tracking collie.
OK. That's it. Next blog entry --something weird.