First Time for Everything

The past two weeks have been filled with firsts: some lovely, some quite the opposite.

It all started when Aimee, TJ and Ethan got to meet Finn and we gathered our three boys for the first Pfleger-Noon playdate. (Ethan's on the left as you're looking at the photo.)

Don't you love how Will is so over it?

Then we got to see Finn's first smiles, although of course I have no pictorial evidence--but my mom and I will both swear to their existence. They present as these crooked grins, one cheek pulling up in a half-smirk, his eyes folding into merry crow's feet. He's a precocious smiler, starting at about 4.5 weeks, so naturally he has also been a precocious screamer, angrily shrieking at decibel levels better suited to a three-year-old when he wishes to register a complaint.

At the end of his first month, Finn went in for a checkup and weighed 10 lbs, 4 ounces and measured almost 23 inches long.

Then Grandmom, Grandpop, Uncle John, Aunt Jean, Megan and Michael all came to town for their first glimpse of little Finn. We were so excited to see them all and witness Michael's army crawl in person, and Will was fascinated with Megan's flurry of activity. Finn loved sleeping on Grandmom and Will just wanted to play and dance with his Grandpop.

So clearly there was no other option but for Will to come down with his first real illness. Great timing, buddy! His fever spiked up to 103 on Sunday and Monday, his productive cough (that was for you, Lauren) got noisier and noisier, Motrin and Tylenol were wearing off after an hour or two, and saddest of all, Will was just not himself. His low energy kept clashing with his motivation to keep moving, and he kept getting frustrated and exhausted, and it was hard to watch. He was still sleeping well, so we hoped he'd just recover on his own, but alas he was diagnosed with bronchities at a Tuesday doctor's appointment. Amoxicillin ahoy!

As the antibiotics began to take hold in Will, his poor little brother started exhibiting some signs of the same cold that had started it all. On Thursday we saw the pediatrician again and were told to watch the baby carefully for a fever over 100.4. At one a.m. it had risen to 100.9 and we were off to Children's Hospital. Oh, after our basement flooded to a three-inch watermark, prompting Dave to say "What else could possibly go wrong this week?" Bad move, Dave--cue Finn's first fever and our subsequent first trip to the hospital with a sick kid.

Because it's basic protocol for a five-week-old, Finn had to be catheterized to check for a urinary tract infection, which seemed ridiculous since he was coughing and clearly just had whatever his brother had. He also needed a blood draw and (shudder) a spinal tap. To be honest, as hard as it was to let him go for that five-minute procedure, especially at four in the morning after we hadn't slept a wink, I think it would have been much more difficult with Will. We sort of knew even in the most anxious moments that Finn was fine. Plus, I have to hand it to the Children's nurses and doctors. They were friendly to us, gentle with Finn, and comforting throughout the night.

Do I even have to tell you that Finn didn't have a fever once we were at the hospital? He was discharged with a clean bill of health, and we got home at seven a.m., where our toddler was just waiting to pounce and spend the day with us--after our first all-nighter in roughly seven years.

(Gratuitous shot of Mamp with Will in healthier days)