The last few months have blown by so quickly, leaving behind a feeling of mental whiplash. Let’s just dive right in for a recap!

We had a nice, quiet Thanksgiving with all the fixins. Brian came over and we stuffed ourselves silly.

November 28th we headed out to Florida for a week to see Nonny, Aunt Suzanne, and Clan Ascheman, the latter of whom I hadn’t seen in something like 13 years, and never even met the youngest four. We very much enjoyed their company and their gorgeous home. One day I hope to be as wonderful and natural a hostess as Devin is. Liam had so much fun playing with his cousins, who are all incredibly adorable, sweet kids.

Devin and Eric took us to a neat town called St. Augustine, which was founded in 1565. We got there in the evening to see the historic district all lit up and teeming with visitors, who were presumably there to see the parade of costume-clad commemorators of some… historical event that I can’t recall at the moment. But it was really cool to see them all marching, candles aflame, some playing instruments (bagpipes were my favorite). Then we ate a nice dinner at a
French restaurant, during which Grady cried and made generally angry noises.

Unfortunately, our visit was dampened when Liam and Grady caught the puking virus, and who knows what else on top of that. Grady recovered after a day or two, but Liam kept getting worse (and wanted to play anyway). It was the first time that Liam was ever so sick. It’s bad enough when you’re sick at home, but when you’re a guest and throwing up all over someone else’s house…. the laundry piling up with vomit…… it’s just miserable. Poor little Liam, he couldn’t eat and could barely keep liquids down. He had a fever that wouldn’t quit and then on the third day or so, he said his ear was hurting. The day we came back home he was still very ill, but luckily he didn’t throw up on the plane. I had been feeling icky for a few days but hadn’t actually come down hard. The minute we got home it hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like I was going to die. My skin hurt and I couldn’t stop shivering. And guess what… as a parent you don’t get to lie around even if you are knocking at death’s door. We took Liam to the doctor and she said that on top of it all, he had an ear infection and had to take antibiotics. So he got a shot and started to feel better soon after. It was a relief to see him eating again, as he had lost three pounds. It doesn’t sound like much, but it was 10% of his body weight and he looked so skinny! Patrick was the last one to fall. I started feeling better just as his turn came around, and then Mama came to visit. I suppose it was inevitable that she’d get sick too, and eventually it made its way back to Daddy in California too. It took a few weeks for us to get back to normal… just in time for Christmas.

Mama took our Christmas picture (”What’s this button? Red dots? I don’t see any red dots!”), which was a fiasco in itself. We finally ended up with a nice picture, but for those of you who received a Christmas card from us, don’t be fooled. This is a much more accurate portrayal of what was really going on:

I decided to utilize our local WalMart for printing the pictures this year rather than drive all the way to Sam’s in Fort Worth, due to the last-minute nature of the operation. I accidentally did the insta-print one instead of the regular one-hour photo. Baaad idea. They came out all yellow, the color was off, and basically our little home printer does a better job. Oh well, lesson learned.

Patrick, at times wiser than I, wanted to go to Christmas Day Mass instead of our usual Midnight Mass. However, being incredibly obstinate and set in my ways, I insisted on making the trek out to St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Fort Worth, as our local church did not have one. About 15 minutes or so before we were supposed to leave, I was doing my hair (typical) and Liam walked by me. About 30 seconds later I had this weird feeling that he was being too quiet so I went to investigate. I opened our closet door and there he stood, a Ziploc bag of Excedrin dangling from one hand and mildly disgusted look on his face as he nibbled. “Candy?”

“[expletive]!!!!!!! SPIT IT OUT NOW!!!!!” I stuck my finger in his mouth and dug out a little over half the remaining tablet. “Pat! Pat! PAT!!!”

Well, after a few minutes of worried discussion, we called Poison Control. They asked a few questions, didn’t seem terribly concerned, and just told me to watch Liam for throwing up and whatnot. Pat didn’t want to go to church but I, again being stubborn, decide that we’re just going to get it out of the way. I don’t like being delayed. So we get to church and it’s totally packed. It’s beautifully decorated and an usher finds us a spot tucked away in the back. Grady was quite the little angel, as usual, but Liam didn’t last long, even with the chocolate bribe I was sneaking him. Once the squirming started, the outbursts followed, and Patrick took Liam outside to cool off. Literally. It was 28 degrees. When mass was over I went outside and Pat was conversing with a fellow smoker. We got in the car, at which point Liam began to scream his head off, which upset Grady, who set in with a piercing wail. I sat between them, covered my ears, and resisted the urge to join in the chorus. Patrick rocked out to Christmas tunes and drove the 30 minutes on home.

The next day was much better. Liam took hold of both his and Grady’s presents and much fun and destruction of wrapping paper ensued. That evening we had a delectable maple-glazed spiral-cut ham. Brian came over and we all stuffed our faces again. We were all sitting around talking in the living room after dinner, and once again I note that Liam is not in sight and I hear no toddler noises. “Where’s Liam?” Suddenly I look over my shoulder toward the ear-level slurping noise and he’s at the end table, gripping my wine glass and attempting to guzzle the Riesling within.

“NOOOO!!! LIAM! Spit it out!”

“BWAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You can’t drink that, you’ll get sick!!!”

“Dewishous dessert!!!”

Luckily he hadn’t gotten too much, and the alcohol content is pretty low. Between that and the previous day’s antics I may have lost a few years off the good part of my life though. And I’m sure there will be many more to follow.

Damien and Amy came into town and cooked marvelous things for us. We drove down to Austin area to Heather and Magneato’s house for New Year’s, fireworks in tow. There was good company and a Wii, but you gotta blow something up to start the year off right! However, some fire official came ’round and thought he’d spoil our fun. Apparently not all of Texas is as firework-friendly as where we live. This only served to encourage the boys, and soon we were perched on a windowsill in the dark, watching them scamper out to the street covertly to light an array of super loud and showy brightness. Liam still talks about it with wide eyes. “Uncle Magneato makes the fireworks go BOOM in the street!”

We came back up and a couple days later Daddy arrived for Grady’s baptism. I spent that day sewing furiously (yes, such shameful procrastination!) and I still didn’t manage to get all of his gown done. The slip looked good so it served just fine. Like his brother, Grady didn’t seem to mind the water at all. Damien and Amy graciously accepted their position as his Godparents. For those of you who missed out, here’s a tidbit:

So that pretty much brings us up to date. One of my New Year’s resolutions is to write more, as I would prefer that my brain not continue to dry rot, so this should be my last months-spanning monster post!