Biting off more than you can chew...

Or, in Scott's case, simply failing to chew AT ALL.

Tank has always been a fairly robust eater. He is particularly good about eating meat - especially when it comes on the bone. Chicken and turkey legs, pork chops, ribs, even lamb chops...he digs right in.

Lately, he's developed a bad habit of ripping off really big bites. Even when his food isn't served cave-man style, he still tries to shove a ridiculous amount in his mouth.

Tonight IT finally happened. I was sitting with Scott at the kitchen table, eating dinner while he happily gnawed away on a chicken leg. Then came that awful, hacking, guttural sound that could only mean one thing - my baby was choking.

I jumped up, whacked him on the back a couple of times, and figured that would be it.

But it wasn't. His eyes watered, his hands tensed, and he started shoving his neck forward.

I honestly don't know for how long. Time stopped. At least it felt like it did.

Ever since Scott was born, my perspective has completely shifted. The idea of something happening to him literally makes me heart stop pumping for a few seconds. I don't read news stories about horrible things that happen to kids, I can't buy fiction books about sad, tragic events involving small children - everything hits too close to home.

And so as I watched him, I completely and totally panicked. I had no idea what to do.

It was like my brain was having a conversation with itself.

One part of it kept thinking/saying: "He's okay. Right? I mean, he's ok. He'll swallow it down. It'll stop."

Meanwhile, the other part was frantically and silently screaming: "He's not ok, you idiot. Look at him. Do SOMETHING."

I whacked him on the back a couple more times, then stuck my finger in his mouth, feeling around. Nothing.

Scott started turning a hideous shade of red/purple. So I yanked him out of the high chair, threw him on his belly across my leg with his head pointing toward the floor and whacked his back again, harder, several more times.

And then suddenly, after what seemed like FOREVER, out flew a very large hunk of rotisserie chicken. No bone, just pristine, untouched, unchewed meat - about twice the size of a quarter and at least 4-5 times as thick.

The offending "bite" of chicken.

I couldn't have even swallowed that thing whole. Scott coughed and then drooled/vomited a bit, finally letting out a very long, high-pitched cry/wail. I slid with him, in my lap, onto the ground.

I think we sat on the floor for a good three or four minutes. He sobbed, I rubbed his back and his head and tried to stop my hands from shaking.

I give the kid credit. He's resilient.

Ten minutes later, he was acting fine, happily drinking down the fruit smoothie I gave him.

Playing in the bath after "the incident," as though nothing ever happened.

I am still trying to calm down. I doubt this will be the last time Scott does something that scares the crud out of me. I do know I want to be better prepared when he does. So i am signing up for some CPR classes in the near future.

And, starting tomorrow, his meat is getting cut up into small little pieces.

My kid is a Sasquatch...and I didn't notice.

For the past few weeks, my folks and I have joked about Scott and the unique running "stance" he'd developed.
It was sort of a side-to-side, not-quite-bending-at-the-knee-shuffle that made him look like a tow-headed Yoda whenever he moved.

We'd even started calling him Yoda.

I am officially a moron.

Today I took Scott to Stride Rite to get his feet re-measured since I wanted to buy him a pair of summer sandals, and I wasn't sure if his size 5.5 wide shoes were still the way to go.

I was also hoping to pick up some crew socks, since several of his didn't seem to be fitting well.

Duh, mom. You would think that somewhere a light bulb would have gone off in my dense little head.

They put Scott on the plate, and told me he's now wearing a size 7, wide.

SEVEN. I almost choked. And then I felt terrible. I'd been jamming my poor kid's feet into a size 5.5 shoe for God knows how many weeks/months, having no idea they were now three sizes too small.

Scott's proper shoe size, as evidence by the one on the left. I can't imagine why the brown ones were uncomfortable.

No wonder his big toenail fell off a few weeks ago. No wonder I had to yank to pull the darn things on and off. No wonder he walked like Yoda.

I think I may officially the worst mother ever - or, at a minimum, one of the most unobservant ones.

At least its a problem that's easily rectified. Scott has a passle of new shoes - including tennies, summer sandals, water shoes and topsiders. He also has socks. The woman at the store told me they'd probably last until July.

Mommy guilt on full display.

I certainly hope so.

Thanks, Mom, for finally noticing. Sheesh, what's a kid got to do around here to get your attention?

Scott's Christmas Iditarod (aka, the month of receiving)

It's official. My kid now has every Fisher-Price toy ever made. And some from other manufacturers too.

Scott's 2nd Christmas was much like his first. Way over the top. The only difference? This one lasted more than three weeks.

And yes, I am just getting around to writing about it in March.

Don't judge.

Jim and I took Scott to California to see the Rough clan this year, and because we were out of town on the actual holiday, Santa made a very (very) early stop to Tank's house, dropping off gifts and goodies on Saturday, December 17.

Santa is very accommodating that way.

Scott's toy haul included a Little People pirate ship with a firing cannon, a bright red toy piano, and a Radio Flyer bumper car. All were a big hit - the bumper car in particular.

BOING!!! Goes the bumper car when you run into things!

My mini-Beethoven. So talented he can play with one hand whilst throwing back a beverage (the sure sign of a talented musician.)

Scott opens by tearing ONE piece of paper off at a time. Then he stops. And hands it to you. Then he tears again. Repeat.

Daddy coaches Scott on how to "fire" the cannon.

Festivities continued on Friday, December 23 (Christmas Eve-Eve) when we got together with the Richardson-Hellmer side of the family for dinner and gifts from Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Kristy and Uncle Martin, and cousin Peyton.

 

Getting a little love from Peyton on Christmas Eve-Eve

So many great toys - and yet, we spent 45 minutes playing in the box.

  
Santa paid another pre-Christmas visit to Scott and Peyton- this time in person. (Again, the big guy is very accommodating that way.)

Checking out our new baby Leap Frog "iPad"

At some point during the month of December we also made time to take Scott to actually get his picture taken with Santa, and also to Zoolights - one of our favorite annual events. I honestly don't remember when those things happened, because, again, it was more than two months ago.

I do know that Scott was non-plussed by his 2nd Santa experience, and thoroughly enjoyed Zoolights -- particularly riding in the bright red wagon and playing with the glowstick given to him by Grandpa Richardson, who is almost as accommodating as Santa.

Cozy and snug with cool cousin PK in the red wagon.

Zoolights!

More Zoolights!

Scott checks out Santa.

We headed to California the morning of Saturday, December 24 - Christmas Eve, and spent the weekend with Jim's mom (Grandma Kathy), and Jim's brother's Sean and Chuckie. Scott had a blast hanging with his uncles -- he followed Uncle Sean and Uncle Chuckie from room to room, and spent some time playing with Aunt Kendall and his cousins Lucia and Elsa.

And did I mention there were more gifts? New pajamas, new clothes, new wood toys with a very large wood mallet that makes lots of noise, Thomas the Train videos, Legos...the list goes on and on.

Sharing Grandma Kathy's lap with baby cousin Elsa.

Christmas morning, and you guessed it...we're opening presents.

After a weekend in Nevada City, we headed over to Paradise, California, and spent a few days with Grandpa Rough and Patty. And there were more toys and books there too!

We did a little sightseeing and Scott got to eat a yummy lunch at the Sierra Nevada brewery.

He also played with Grandpa Chuck and Patty's dogs, and discovered a cool looking radio with lots of knobs and switches to turn on and off, off and on at Great-Grandpa and Great-Grandma Rough's house.

Scott, mommy and daddy with Great Grandpa and Grandma Rough

Great-Grandpa Rough has the BEST radio.

Hiding from mommy in an "under the table" fort.

After our stop in Paradise, we worked our way back over to Redding, California, for a brief visit with Scott's Great-Grandpa and Grandma Bedell. That didn't go as well, mainly because Scott showed us his new-found propensity toward car-sickness, vomiting all over the back of the rental mid-way into town.

We descended on Grandma and Grandpa Bedell's house like a herd of locusts, toting a smelly carseat, cranky kid, and two loads of stinky laundry that we immediately deposited into their washing machine.

After resting up, we flew home, only to discover MORE toys, courtesy of Santa, in the middle of our living. The biggie was the brand new Lego table, which now has a prominent place in Scott's new room in the new house.

Yes. We love our Legos and Lego table.

Christmas FINALLY came to a merciful end in late January, when Scott's Great-Grandma Richardson (Nahnee) and Great-Grandma Anderson (Gee-Gee) came by the new house, with, you guessed it, there own gifts in town.

Scott scored a stuffed dog, more books and an outdoor playhouse that now resides on our patio, complete with ringing telephone and working doorbell.

And I just realized Scott's third Christmas is a mere 9 months way. Oh my!

Travelin' Man

Scott went on his first vacation in November.

Yes. As in two four months ago. I am just getting around to writing about it (and yes, I've been getting around to writing about it for eight solid weeks.) And no, I don't have any mommy guilt for not keeping up with every monumental milestone of my son's young life in a timely fashion.

Okay, obviously I have a little mommy guilt. But I'll get over it -- jus as soon as I catch up on my blogging.

The Rough Family took a week-long cruise to the Caribbean with Grandparents Richardson and Aunt Kristy, Uncle Martin and cousin Peyton, as I said earlier, in November.

It was our first time traveling with a toddler. (Scott had just turned 13 months and had perfected his walking technique on the day of departure.) Overall, it went fairly well, but there were definitely a few hiccups.

At the airport, the morning of departure. There is NOTHING better than curbside check-in when traveling with a kid and toting THAT MUCH crap.

The most critical of these is that my son simply doesn't travel well. At least not yet. We've taken him on two flights since the November cruise, stayed in a handful of hotels, strapped him into a couple of rental cars and what have we gotten? Frayed nerves, sleepless nights and vomit-covered carseats.

Ready to takeoff on our big adventure!

This remains one of the few times Scott has slept on an airplane.

The November trip was no different. The flight out to Florida wasn't too bad - Scott slept most of the way on the plane. But the first night in the hotel was sheer hell. He woke up at 2 a.m. and WOULD NOT go back to sleep.

It was so awful that Jim finally got up and got dressed at 4:15 a.m. and took the kid on a walk along the beach and for a donut. They came back to the room at 5 a.m. and we finally got Scott to sleep until about 8 a.m.

The view from our hotel room in Ft. Lauderdale. Pretty sweet, huh?

Scott loves the balcony.

Jim gives Scott his first taste of the ocean. He's not crazy about it.

We had hoped things would get better once Scott was in the pak n play in our cabin, but the rest of the trip was really hit or miss in terms of his nocturnal performance. At one point, I was so tired that I slept with him in a cabana on the beach in the Caribbean. (Our trip included stops to Princess Cays in the Bahamas, Aruba and Curacao.)

Sleeping issues aside, we had much fun on the trip. Grandma and Grandpa Richardson sprung for a sweet suite on the cruise ship, with a spectacular balcony, sitting room, couch, marble bath-tub, you name it.

CHEERS! Setting sail on our cabin balcony.

Scott loved this balcony too.

And Scott and Peyton were among only a handful of toddlers on the entire trip, which meant they pretty much had the kiddie pool all to themselves most days. (And yes, they lived it up like true Celebri-tots...taking full advantage of the awesomeness that is a private pool at least four of the seven days we were on board.)

Peyton and Scott loved playing in the ship's kiddie pool!

The cruise ship also had a playroom, where Scott discovered just how much he liked balloons, and two stops at beaches, where we quickly learned that my son HATES (and I do mean HATES) the sand.

Is there anything better than a big red balloon?

Slides! Love the ships's jungle gym/playroom.

Playing with one of the few other kids on board.

I am not really sure what's up with that. I am hoping he loathed the stuff simply because he had just learned to walk and was unsteady on his feet. We did coax him into the ocean, but he wasn't crazy about that either, unless he was clinging to me and Jim.

Definitely something we will have to work on.
Peyton, on the other hand, acted like a born beach babe. She'd still be there if we hadn't brought her home with us.

Peyton and Grandpa Richardson play on the beach in the Bahamas.

With six adults on board and two kids, we also had the luxury of switching off and enjoying adult-only dinners. My parents each took Scott and Peyton one night, and both kids another, so mommy and daddy could enjoy a leisurely meal.

And one of the most entertaining parts of the cruise was watching Scott learn how to dance. He LOVED, loved, loved listening and jamming to the bands.

I won't talk about the flight home. It still frightens me. But overall, much fun was had by all.

Cleaned up all nice and pretty for formal night.

Scott may not sleep at night, but he sure can nap anywhere. Catching some zzz's in a stroller in Aruba.

Bangers and Mash? At the ship's Pub Luncheon.

Our cruise ship, parked in Curacao.

Window shopping with daddy.

Downtown Curacao.

Curacao was a little warm and sticky.

Beautiful hotel beach in Aruba with lots of shady palm trees.

Aruba.

My big, grown-up boy posing for a sit-down portrait.

Family pic!

Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

Jim and I decided to be spontaneous last weekend. You know, like we did back in the old days. The days we call B.S. (Before Scott.)

Jim was working in California all week, and I had a couple days off, so I hopped on a plane with our Tank (who now weighs as much as a Tank) and met my hubby in Santa Monica for the weekend.

Southern California had many attractions for us. Among them:

1) The pier, the park and the beach were within walking distance of the hotel - critical when you have a toddler who needs a mid-day nap.

2) We have two sets of good friends in California, both of whom have little boys close to Scott's age, which equals built in entertainment for the kiddos, plus gives us the opportunity to hang out with other adults who walk a fine line between sanity and lunacy (just like mom and dad.)

Jim and I met our friends Russ and Monya about three years ago, by pure happenstance. We were planning our honeymoon trip to Europe, and so were they. Russ and I "ran into" each other on a cruise line message board because we were both looking for other people to share the cost of tours/shore excursions, etc.

The four of us actually met for the first time in Santorini and forged one of those weird friendships that results from drinking, laughing and almost being left in a foreign country (Mykonos) together, without a passport, cash or a change of clothes. 

I think, technically, the drinking and laughing came after we got back to the ship. Believe me, the prospect of getting stuck in Mykonos with no way home was pretty stressful for all of us, except Monya, who kept trying to shop.

The four of us in Mykonos, after we got un-lost, and realized we would not be marooned there after all.

Cheers!

Drinking in Turkey on our respective honeymoons.

Anyway, post-cruise, our couple friendship continued, despite Russ and Jim's divergent views on what constitutes a good football team (Russ=USC, Jim=ASU.)

Post ASU-USC game, Nov. 2009

Wine tasting in Napa, May 2011. This was our first weekend away from Scott

As luck and/or fate would have it, Monya and I became pregnant at almost exactly the same time. Scott was born September 10; Bryce the first week in October.

Santa Monica was the first time we got our little boys together.

The first night -- dinner at a Mexican restaurant -- went OK. There was an initial hesitation, as the two kiddos sized each other up, stole toys from each other, and assessed each other's strengths and weaknesses.

But they quickly bonded over a staircase and a koi pond at the restaurant, splashing each other and the fish, and climbing up and down with the blessings of their permissive fathers, who chose to ignore the great big NO CLIMBING ON THE STAIRS sign placed prominently nearby.

Saturday went even better. We met up mid-morning on the pier, and Scott and Bryce chased each other up and down the steps, along the boardwalk and at the playground. Before long, they were best buddies (still stealing toys from each other), but also mimicking each others efforts to bang on the table, throw things, shout, and play "night night."

Bryce is plotting...

The aforementioned "night-night" game.

Big boys doing the stroller thing, cause that's what the cool kids do. 

We're planning on getting the kids together again mid-to-late-summer, this time for a Disneyland/theme park extravaganza.

Like I said, I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. (At least for the next 18 years, 'cause by then, let's face it, the two will probably be meeting on opposite sides of some football field somewhere and Scott and his fellow Sun Devils? Horned Frogs? will crush Bryce and his USC Trojans.)

They look so much like their daddies here, it just kills me.

Hee hee.