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Good Friday

4/2/2010

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Today started out well and ended...well, not so good. But all is well that ends well.

Let me explain with pictures.

Good friends Michele and Drew-bear came over in the early afternoon. Drew was born in November 2009 and is down-right adorable. Back in the day, the four of us spent many days traversing Mesa Park, but Michele had to go back to work in late January and our park-outings were curbed. With Spring Break this week, Michele & Co. had some time to stop by and visit. We've been calling both boys 'bears' since they were in-utero, so it was nice to have them together (and conscious) at the same time.

The Bears got along fabulously. 
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Best Friend Bears
Drew got a little fussy, so Michele brought out Mr. Frog.
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Hey man, Mr. Frog is cool
Being the bigger, bully baby, Scotty took it upon himself to apprehend Mr. Frog and hog him, much to Drew's dismay.
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Have and Have Not Bear
Which lead to this:
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Doh!
Needless to say, we're working on sharing. Next week.

Anyways, it was a great visit (minus the disaster that transpired on the couch during our photo shoot.) After all, today is Friday and we have a great weekend ahead of us. Brian and I were supposed to have a date night tonight, we're seeing the Easter Bunny tomorrow, there is some big basketball game tomorrow night that Brian keeps talking about, and then of course, Easter Sunday (and Easter Sunday Brunch. I love a good eating-centric holiday.) Really - this was going to be a great few days.

After Michele and Drew-bear departed, I realized I hadn't eaten much all day. So I re-heated a turkey burger patty (lean protein, thankyouverymuch) and paired it with a dill pickle spear. On a whim, I handed Scotty my pickle, just to see what he would do with it.
Picture
Sour Bear
And despite some initial misgivings, he LOVED it. Absolutely loved it. He didn't even want to give it back to me after he gnawed it down and it became a choking hazard. I had to wrestle that thing out of his cold, slimy hands, and when it was all said and done, the pickle looked like it had gone several rounds with a great white.
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RIP, Mr. Pickle
So all is good, right? Still Good Friday. Still a good Friday.

And still a hungry Kim. So I grabbed a few cookies my parents had sent us for Easter (so thoughtful with the gifts! Lou Malnati's, my baby book, now cookies...it's like Christmas in March/April) and ate them as I put Scotty in his stroller for a quick jaunt to the park. Macadamia nut, yum, oatmeal raisin, nom, nom, chocolate chip, mmmh, delicious, and then one I didn't quite recognize. No matter; I haven't met a cookie I didn't like.

Nom, nom, nom.

Scotty and I head to the park when my allergies started acting up. Except, I don't have allergies to anything outdoors. But maybe my eighth year in the desert was going to be an unlucky one? I kept rubbing my eyes and scratching at my face thinking that the mulberry and olive trees must be working in overtime, since I've never been this affected. Man, I could barely see. I feared I was smearing mascara all over my face and scaring the other children at the park. I kept my sunglasses on and prayed I didn't look like a crazy lady.

Brian left work early and met us at the swing set. I told him about my new found allergies as he examined my raccoon eyes. He then pointed out my chest was covered in bright red splotches. "This is so annoying!" I told him as we walked home. "So weird that this is happening now, since I was fine all day yesterday."

"Why does Scotty smell like a pickle?" Brian asked, holding the Bear up and smelling his onesie. "He's covered in pickle seeds."

Whoops.

"Really?" I asked, as I tried to peer at the baby through my squinty, watery eyes. I couldn't see any seeds, but then again, I couldn't really see much of anything at this point.

By the time we got home, the baby-sitter had called and informed us that her car broke down and she could no longer sit for us. Um, okay.

And then in between my eyes swelling shut and my scalp starting to itch furiously, it hit me:  that flavor I couldn't recognize in the cookies from earlier that day?  It was peanut butter.

And I am allergic to peanuts.

Brian took us both upstairs but wasn't quite sure who to deal with first: Scotty, stripped of his clothing, naked in his dill pickle glory with seeds stuck to his face and neck, or me, laying face-first on the bed, writhing in pain as I tried to scratch my whole body at the same time. I had to take my contacts out since my eyes were so watery and Scotty was trying to grab my glasses and eat them. It was Mom v. Bear and the Bear was winning. Easily.

For lack of a better term, we were a hot mess.

Two Benadryls later and ten frantic minutes of chewing off all of my finger nails (lest I scratch myself into oblivion), I felt much better.  And it only took twenty minutes in the bath to de-seed Scotty and help him smell like something other than pickles.  This child had pickle seeds in places where the sun doesn't shine. How in the world did he get so coated in pickle goo in such a short time? He darn near stuck the darn thing in his ears. And clearly, he rubbed it all over his face. Mmm, garlic.

Needless to say, it's a good thing the baby-sitter canceled.

As for now, Scotty is sleeping soundly and smelling like a baby again. Brian is quietly sleeping on the couch and I'm drowsy from all of the Benadryl. It was a good Friday, just not the Friday we imagined.

Happy Easter Weekend.

(And a big thank you to the makers of anti-histamines, which made this blog entry possible.)
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