He's baaaaack!!!

Steve, that is.

Also, our dear friend Mr. Sleepy has started making what seem to be regularly scheduled appearances again so HALLELUJAH THANK YOU JESUS, and I will have to have a serious discussion with him about how he should never take a four-month vacation from us ever, ever again.

In other news, Sam (now close friends with Mr. Sleepy) has officially turned four months old today! (Of course he was 16 weeks old almost three weeks ago, but for some reason the stars do not align as far as months and weeks are concerned in the baby-age world.) Regardless, Steve and I have somehow managed to keep this other human being ALIVE and THRIVING without any middle-of-the-night emergency room visits and without too much loss of hair (on our parts- cradle cap did Sammy's hair in). We have managed to feed him with milk (that I make myself! 24 hours a day! in my own body!) and also a little formula on the side, for times when I'm feeling especially wild and go for that second glass of wine during dinner. (This rarely happens, let me assure you, and surprisingly enough, during the time that would be ideal for heavy drinking- the sleep training period- I have yet to indulge in the good stuff. Don't feel too bad for the wine, I'm sure we might hang out tonight for old time's sake.)

Get outta here! Did I really only survive 4 whole months with these people?? Because it's felt like an eternity...

Along with graduating to the 4-month mark comes the 4-month vaccinations. Like most kids, Sammy is not a fan. While I don't enjoy seeing my child in pain, I understand that it is a necessary evil, and the extreme color of red that his face turns is almost funny. (I dare not say that it's actually "funny" because after laughing about his almost purple coloring in the immunizations room, the nurse gave me a very disapproving look and therefore I don't think it is socially acceptable to say such things. Except here on the internet of course, because I can't see you giving me those same dirty looks.) He got over the shock of the three needles penetrating his chubby little legs in about 30 seconds and promptly blew giant green boogers all over my sweater. (Payback for the laughing? Probably.)

Then we were made to sit in a waiting area with just about everyone that is employed at Ft Lee so that we could get a prescription that, to me, did not seem extremely relevant. Probably because I didn't hear half of what the doctor actually said. I wouldn't call it a language barrier (because I'm fairly certain she was speaking English) so much as a dialect barrier. After saying "Huh?" "Pardon?" "Excuse me?" "Say that one more time please?" "Can we switch to sign language so I have a chance at understanding at least every third word you say because we no speakey the same language?!" Just kidding. I just nodded like I understood her perfectly and eventually had to run out of the room before she was finished typing with her two pointer fingers on the computer (I kid you not) because I heard someone on the loud speaker butchering my last name and I wasn't sure why I was being paged because I hadn't done anything wrong except lie to the doctor about how I understood what she was saying. Turns out that I had dropped my ID card in the parking lot (huge no-no in the military world apparently) and someone had turned it in. The man at the front desk asked if that was even me, and I had to explain in great detail how that god-awful photo was taken when I was mere days from delivering Sammy and that due to excessive heat and swelling and lots of other fluid issues, made me look like the female Hulk. In order to avoid hearing about anymore talk of pregnancy or fluids, he practically threw the card at me and we were on our merry way!

Upon arrival at our lovely home, we were greeted by our lactation-consultant/nurse/advisor-when-we-can't-understand-what-the-fork-the-Dr-is-saying/good friend/SAVIOR, Elaine. This woman is such an angel and I am so very sad that we will not be able to see each other on a regular basis anymore. I'm sure Sam is upset too because she always gives me the sheets that tell me what on earth I should do with him for his entertainment/development, and after this fourth month is up, he's gonna be S.O.L. because you know I don't have a clue. I'm very hesitant to have any more babies unless I can be guaranteed that she will be in the general vicinity afterwards so that she can talk me down out of my manic state from the frustrations of breastfeeding and sleep deprivation. Maybe we can somehow line up our next PCS move to wherever she and her husband are going... (They do call it a "dream sheet" right?) THANK YOU ELAINE!!!!

The infamous boob-whisperer

Back to the little guy-- He was so happy that his daddy came back that he was blubbering away like a fool this morning. Unfortunately for us all, I have yet to figure out how to work the video camera, so I have been resorting to 30 second videos on my cell phone that have the worst picture quality and can't pick up any actual sound that is taking place, except maybe someone sanding walls four doors down. Oh well. He's really not saying anything important yet and I'm sure that by the time he's stringing sentences together, I will have figured out how to turn the camera on (and hopefully remember to stick a tape in there).

Steve is currently driving around trying to find some decent Chinese food out here in the middle of nowhere, but really the only thing we like to eat at Chinese places is sesame chicken. And bourbon chicken too, but apparently that is asking WAY too much around these here parts and the only "Chinese" place in the world that makes it is at the food court in the Auburn mall (and it is the best Chinese food I've ever eaten and I'm starting to drool just a little bit thinking about it). So hopefully he comes back with something resembling sesame chicken and not meow chow because we spent literally all evening on Google trying to find a place that makes bourbon chicken and are at the point where we'd eat just about ANYthing.

Apparently Daddy has some rank breath and would you please quit blowing it all over my sweet, innocent little face already?

The small child that lives with us is now asleep. After only 20 minutes of crying. And it's not even 7pm yet. I am almost certain that Steve and I will be asleep by 8. Sweet dreams y'all and THANK YOU for your sleep training prayers! They are helping!!