After much debate last week, my parents kept their plans and visited over the weekend. They flew in Friday and have a flight out later this afternoon. We got lucky as far as Wilma. Neither of their flights were affected and our weather was iffy Sunday night and yesterday morning, but not terrible. The worst for us was actually Sunday night when a couple of tornadoes touched down within a few miles of our house.

My parents enjoyed their time with Peanut and he thoroughly enjoyed his time with Grampy and Grammy. He adores my dad and it shows. Last night, he fell asleep while Stepmom held him and this morning he reached for her to pick him up - both times she glowed. I was so happy to see him so affectionate toward her. She always seems a little nervous around him and I know how good it made her feel for him to snuggle her. I know how wonderful it makes me feel when he reached out for me and gives me a big monkey hug.

We toodled around town, ate too much, they bought Peanut some jammies and a cute cool-weather outfit, they watched Peanut so hubby and I could catch a movie and dinner for our anniversary, and we bought them dinner for their anniversary (we felt bad about that - it ended up being takeout as Peanut's been very cranky. We think he's teething. Lots of drooling and inconsolable crying/screaming. Especially in the evenings and at 4 am. Like clockwork.)

Now I'm feeling sad and trying not to cry at work. I always feel horrible when they or we leave after a visit. I have no idea when we'll see them again. It'll be a while before we have the vacation time and money to visit them. The past couple of visits with my dad, I've noticed little things which make me think he's not quite as sharp as he used to be. God, it breaks my heart. He's 67, and I know he's at the age where that happens. And I know it shouldn't dwell too much on it, because it's mostly little things...like his reflexes aren't what they were when he drives, although I think he's still a safe driver. And yesterday after we visited my mom, he accidentally called Stepmom by Mom's name.* (They both start with the same consonant sound, so it's understandable. And a visit with my mom is enough to rattle anyone.) I don't think she heard, thankfully.

Hubby and I are both exhausted from Peanut's teething. He hasn't slept well since last Wednesday or Thursday, so he's up and down in the night, then wakes up a 4 for his early bottle, which then ends up in a screamfest. A couple of mornings he's fallen back asleep. This morning he only fell asleep for maybe 30 minutes, then woke up when Hubby moved to pull up a blanket.

Mom called at work to thank us for stopping by, but I think the real reason was so she could unload on me. Apparently the new cholesterol medication is causing muscle damage (the same reason she went off Lipit0r) and she's been in severe pain. It sounds like she'll have to go completely off cholesterol meds. She's freaked out and I can't deal. She also misses Peanut and me, but I can't deal. I can handle a phone call once every few days, or a half hour visit, but that's about it. I nicely told her that I'm trying to take a break because I think it's better for both of us. Honestly, I think it is, but the remainder of the truth is that I simply can't stand to be around her. I'm still angry and hurt by her comments about Hubby. And I don't want to get sucked into the world of her health problems. I'm having a hard time keeping it together with lack of sleep, Peanut's crankies, and knowing that Hubby will probably be transferred to the homicide unit within the next month. I want him to get that transfer, but I'm beyond stressed trying to figure out how I'm going to cope with Peanut and work when he's working 60 or 70 hour weeks. That may actually be a way for me to spend more time with Mom, if she can promise to be nice.

*This morning I called the dog by Peanut's name. So maybe I'm getting senile?

So, tropical storm Wilma is on the loose. I pray it doesn't hit anywhere on the gulf coast of the U.S. I hope it doesn't develop into anything strong. Enough is enough.

***

This weekend, the family had our first portraits taken. Peanut's approaching 1 year old, so we figured it was about time. Hubby's sisters send us professional pictures of their kids all the time and we were beginning to feel like bums. I think neither of us wanted to deal with a potentially cranky Peanut, which was why we put it off for so long. We had nothing to worry about. He was really clingy at first and didn't want to smile for the photographer (who was really nice and patient. We went to S3ars and were very happy with them). We got a couple of really nice family shots and a couple nice ones of hubby or me alone with Peanut. Then we put Peanut in a Halloween-themed onesie (printed with glow-in-the dark candies - adorable) and cute little pumpkin socks and got a couple of different fall-theme poses. They are adorable. He loved the pumpkin prop and kept turning around to knock it over. I can't wait for the photos to come back.

Yesterday afternoon, Peanut sort of crawled on our bed! Hubby was on one side and I was on the other encouraging him along. I think he'll be motoring around soon. He only scooted a foot or two, but he definitely moved.

This morning was a rough one for the little guy. I noticed he was wet when he had his early bottle. When I laid him on the changing table, I realized his whole front was damp. And he had pooped which luckily didn't leak. Poor little bugger just wanted to get back in his warm bed, so he CRIED all through the diaper and clothing change. I felt like the meanest mommy ever. All the fuss woke up Hubby, who whisked Peanut into bed with him. Peanut immediately snuggled up to him and wrapped his arm around Hubby's neck. So sweet. I think he was back asleep within 2 minutes.

More of the same....the a/c at work is broken yet again. It's about 90 degrees in here and I don't know if I'm going to fall asleep or end up with heat exhaustion. I'm getting over another icky bug. At least this time it was something different - a horrid sore throat and fever with alternating chills and hot flashes. I dragged my sorry butt to the doctor on my 6th day of fever (which I didn't even realize I still had. I assumed since I was over the chills my fever had broken). Several tests later and I discovered that I am not suffering from strep (which I already knew), mono, a systemic infection, or anemia. The following day I woke up feeling fine. Of course. Not that I'm complaining.

Peanut is growing up so quickly. He's been chowing down ever since he figured out how to feed himself. You'd think Gerber Puffs were crack the way he devours them. Scrambled eggs and French toast sticks are his two other favorites, as they are easy to grab and manipulate. When he sees me get the Puffs can, he bounces and squeals in anticipation. He's getting better with the sippy cup, although if he can't get fluid fast enough, the cup ends up on the floor. He feels heavier, too. I swear he gained a pound overnight and Hubby has noticed it, too. Peanut is like a stuffed little tick. A cute, cuddly, giggly, fat little tick.

We've been making an earnest effort at getting him to sleep in his crib. We've had 2 or 3 whole nights of crib-sleeping this week and the other nights were pretty good with 5-6 hours before bringing him into bed. Hubby sleeps on the side of the bed closest to Peanut, so he can reach over and pat his head or little bottom when he wakes in the night. He'll usually settle back down within a few minutes. Last night he slept until his early bottle with nary a peep. Except he decided that 5:30 am was a great time to rise and shine and protested when I stuck him in bed with Hubby (I knew there was no way he'd go back in the crib). The little stinker wanted us up to play with him. As soon as he and Hubby left for daycare, he fell asleep in the carseat.

I recently saw mention of silly nicknames other bloggers have for their kids. It's gotten me thinking of the ones we use...

Peanut
Little Man
Stinker/Stinkerbinker
Diaperbutt
Stinkbottom
Wiggleworm
Snugglebug
and my favorite (I came up with this one myself when Peanut was first home and had tons of gas) Mount Asskrakatoa

I'm a dork. And I admit it.

Yesterday, after an unsuccessful attempt at getting Peanut to nap in his crib, we settled down on the couch. He has a case of the sniffles, so I knew the crib probably wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot. Once he dozed off, I turned on the tv. I ended up watching "My Super Sweet Sixteen" (an MTeeVee show). Holy shit. It's an f-ing train wreck. I knew it was going to be horrible, but I couldn't stop watching.

I saw 3 episodes. All 3 were sickening. Spoiled rich girls throwing parties for their Sweet 16s. Parties with VIP rooms, limos, hired dancers, fancy invites, security...you name it. One did a Cinderella theme complete with a horse-drawn carriage. Another did a Moulin Rouge theme with dancing girls.

All 3 girls were nasty. Two of the 3 treated their moms like crap; the moms who were paying for their snotty little asses to party. The third girl was recently adopted, so I have a feeling that's why she was nice to her mom. (It was odd, she had come from a really bad situation including a poor upbringing and many years in foster care, and she was just as nasty as the girls born into money.) These girls completely got off on the power they had over who was/was not invited. They all had lists of Cool People who were invited and Losers who definitely were not. One girl flew into NY on her family's private plane to shop for a dress. Unreal.

One of the moms spilled the beans. The party: $180,000. Yes, $180k. For a party. For a 16 year old.

Shit. Our house didn't cost that much (although now, with appreciation, it would be in that neighborhood, maybe more.) In fact, we could pay off our mortgage, car loan, Hubby's student loan, both our credit cards, all our other debts, buy another car, and still have money left over.

All for the price of a party.

I may gripe about not having a lot of money, but I know I have it good. Hubby and I are able to pay our bills on time every month and put food on the table. That's more than many people have. We have each other, our health, a nice home, our cars, and jobs. And those sorry little girls threw tantrums because an "ugly girl" was dancing on the stage at her party, or a loser somehow snuck in, or her dress wasn't perfect, at her $180k party.

Whatever.