Sick Boy

Well, poor little J.D. is still pretty sick. By the way, I've decided to refer to my only son as J.D. on this blog since the nickname didn't catch on in real life. I love that name, so I'll just live in my own little self-created fantasy world online. And in my fantasy world, I call my son J.D.

He really struggles with infections, and this time the ear infection must have been a strong one. He's been fighting a fever for days, he's super cranky, and he's been taking the longest naps!

The only thing that makes him truly happy is hanging out with his dad. Actually, it's not just hanging out with dad that's enough. He wants to be either in his dad's lap, carried in his arms, or right in the middle of what he's doing all the time. You can probably see how that can get pretty difficult for old dad. The funny thing is, he completely prefers dad over me. And I mean that 100% of the time. When he's hurt, angry, frustrated, tired, or sad, he wants dad. Believe it or not, I am almost always ok with that. Most of the time, I have three little girls who desperately want me, so it's nice to have one yearning for dad to relieve the load.

J.D. wakes up in the morning, and the first thing out of his mouth is a loud "Da Da?" It's as if he's saying, "Dad, are you there? If you are, get me OUT of this crib, and let's go do something fun outside, preferably away from all these girls!"

Anyway, the poor little guy felt pretty bad today.

You feel bad for him, don't you? Don't worry, he's all right. He's just crying because he thinks I'm going to take him away from Danny.

He's like, don't even think about it mom.

Since the dinner I served him was left virtually untouched, he enjoyed some of dad's dinner. Dad's lap is much more enjoyable than any stinking chair.

My two boys. Pretty darn cute.

Spoons are easy to use!

Danny's still trying to get in a few bites. He's like, lay off Dad, this quinoa's mine!

Shovel it in!

Yum.

Maybe spoons are overrated.

Oh and who's this?

G heard that someone was getting an after dinner snack and is wondering why she wasn't invited.

Let me in on this! Oh, quinoa, no thanks, maybe next time.

By the way, have you ever wondered where all those high falutin' fashion designers get all of their crazy ideas?

Babies! I mean, who else would think to combine yellow fleece footie pajamas with zebra print ballet flats?

G = fashion forward risk-taker.

Rain is in the forecast here in the desert. Our entire day was spent under a blanket of clouds.

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. day!