We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
Oliver only wishes we were going to see Dr. Seuss. Unfortunately, it’s just his normal pediatrician that got to see the inside of his mouth a couple of times this week. On Tuesday we decided it was time to find out if there was anything we could do about his loud sleep breathing. His tonsils seem to be crowding his airway. It turns out our best bet is a humidifier. And he may have issues with his tonsils for years, but it’s too early to get excited about a tonsilectomy. Which is fine with me. It doesn’t really annoy him, so until it does, I’m willing to live with it.
And the second trip was as unexpected as the moment the door didn’t yield to Oliver as he sped toward it as fast as he could. I was on the other side of the room and didn’t see exactly what happened, but the short story is: he ran into the door. And blood poured from his mouth. I scooped him up and ran him to the ladies room (we were at the church for institute). As more and more blood dripped out of his mouth, and then spurted all over the place (sink, walls, counter, shoes, clothes, floor), I realized I had no idea what to do. Institute was over as all the other mothers dropped everything to help me figure things out. An hour later, the doctor had given him the all-clear: his teeth were fine, it had bled enough that infection wasn’t a worry, and in two weeks time, we won’t even be able to see where the cut is.
But right now, it looks pretty awful:
And so do the clothes he was wearing at the time:
Of course, I’ve been expecting this kind of thing from Oliver for a long time. And I expect a lot more of it in the future. But I’m grateful that we have avoided stitches for at least a little bit, and that mouth wounds heal quickly.


Good grief! Those sorts of incidents terrify me! I’m glad Oliver is okay and that you made it through with (no doubt) a much calmer mind frame than I would have. Blood. Yikes.
Happy Valentines to you all!!