Giggles

After all, what would a parenting memoir be without a couple of birthday-suit shots? I really did hesitate to post this one, dear reader, but I decided I'd share it with you if you promise not to share it with all the guests at the Peanut's wedding.

Deck the Halls

This week, dear reader, marked Peter's first snowfall and the arrival of his first Christmas tree. The snow didn't really seem to phase him, but of the tree he is a BIG FAN. Specifically, touching it, smelling it, gazing at its lights, and crushing its ornaments in his tiny palm (oops ... note to self: Christmas ornaments are not toys). Please enjoy some photos of the Peanut with the wildlife-that-strangely-appeared-indoors-one-day-my-mom-and-dad-are-so-weird:

(Gratuitous shot in which you can't even see the tree ... but doesn't the Peanut look exactly like Daddy in it?)

Plagued.

I have a head cold. My nose is raw from blowing. My hands are raw from washing. My eyes are raw from watching P dizzle for symptoms (none so far, but since I spent the days preceding the onset of symptoms as I do most of my time - giving him kisses and munching on his appendages - my guess is that, sooner or later, his tiny nose will be plugged up too). This is my first cold since Peter was born 8 months ago (today!). Also since I got pregnant. In fact, I haven't had a cold like this since 2005. I remember the year because it was during my clerkship, and, to see that head cold spread through our ranks, you'd think we'd been spending our days engaging in very nerdy orgies, rather than discussing the finer points of constitutional law and watching reruns of Dawson's Creek in the clerks' lounge. I hope it's not RSV. Or, better, I hope it is RSV, and that Peter hasn't shown any symptoms yet because his pharmaceutical-boosted immune system has already destroyed that MoFo. Wish us luck.