Am I the only person who would pay good money for doctors to make house calls?!

Oh Internet. I wanna get on here and say so many things. But Sam brought home some sort of mad cow disease from the nursery this past weekend at church and he has taken to spreading his snot all over the house (as well as in his hair). By doing so, he has transferred this horrible disease to Molly and myself. So despite STARTING sleep training the other night, we have had to quickly halt those plans because even I am not cruel enough to sleep train a baby that can't breathe out of its nose.

After a night of no sleep, we hauled our sick butts to the allergist's office. Could not find Sam's shoes that morning to save my life. All I could find were these little church shoes that I think call for socks (technically). I skipped the socks. I also said the F word more times that I thought humanly possible in one morning. I must be out to beat old records or something. After screaming and flailing and running out of milk and falling on the concrete in the parking lot and running into a wall and simultaneous crying babies, we arrived at the conclusion that Sam is not allergic to gluten. I know. I'm sure Sarah is so stoked to get all of our special crackers and cereal. He is, however, severely allergic to peanuts and eggs. Like, stuff-can't-be-produced-in-a-facility-that-handles-nuts severe. Ugh. And I thought eliminating eggs would be easy (he won't eat scrambled eggs anyway!). Stupid, sick woman. Eggs are in EVERYTHING. So now I have to completely readjust my shopping strategy for all of his "normal" foods and figure out what he can have now that we've identified these new allergies. (I'M SO EXCITED, in case you can't tell through the computer screen.)

After lunch (he had Cheezits! Best day of his life!), I chucked him in bed, finally got Molly to sleep, and considered taking a nap. But then Molly woke up. Because who needs a nap longer than ten minutes? Now we're just staring at each other, breathing like crazy people out of our mouths.

Maybe I'll get on here soon and tell you about the air show we went to last weekend, or Molly's four-month appointment, or how Sam won't kiss me on the cheek, but will now blow me kisses before he goes to bed (MELTS MY HEART OMG). Maybe. If I ever catch up on sleep and am not constantly in the worst mood of my life. (So.... see ya in a year or two!)

Crappy iPhone photos for you!!

Do I see milk in the background? Yayeeeee!!!!

 Sam is trying to teach Steve the finer points of proper lawn mower maintenance. "Are you sure you refilled the bubbles?"

Sam, sporting his new-to-him basketball shoes. I'm thinking this is not his style...

But there is no denying that they are hilarious on him.

Happy baby