Well it's official, I am the

the irritating dork throwing a first birthday party – something I said I would never do. I swore up and down I would never ask anyone to suffer through small talk with Aunt Tilly accompanied by sheet cake and cheap food. But, alas folks, here I am doing just that. Not just doing it – but doing it with unforeseen glee and wild-eyed joyful anticipation of the event. Wyatt turns one so soon and as cliché as it is, I really can’t believe it has gone so fast. GOD do I love him and love his company. He is truly perfect and I am head over heels in love. We moved him into his own room on Fathers Day turning the “yellow” room in to the nursery finally. Like when I moved him from my bed to his crib I half wished (no fully and whole heartedly wished) he would not adjust to it and cry so that I could swoop in and triumphantly move his crib right back into our bedroom. Alas, it was not to be and like all else, Wyatt adjusted without any hesitation – as if nothing had changed at all and everyday he woke up in a new bedroom without us and that was perfectly fine with him. So, my little boy is in his nursery now happily taking in the new colors and sounds and the way the light plays off of the ceiling differently – as if it isn’t different and not new at all. He is his father’s son in this way although I was a calm and quiet as a baby – I certainly am not now.Tom and I have done a bit of arguing over this party because the truth is, he doesn’t want to have a party and can only see dollar signs flashing before his eyes when discussing any facet of the celebration. I have stopped mentioning anything that might have a dollar value but it doesn’t stop the wet blanket he has covered the whole day in. However, I don’t give a rat’s ass what he thinks because I may never have another first birthday to celebrate and I will not miss this opportunity regardless of any snarky comment about it. In other words, the saturation point of the wet blanket has been reached and it matters not one bit to me. Plus, so far all guests are his friends and family and I know with absolute certainty he will have a great time and be glad we had the party after all. Absolute certainty? Hmmm.

Fluid filled something

Good news Liz's blood has finally thinned enough so that she doesn't need those evil shots anymore. I got so chocked up seeing her bruised stomach. Not so good news she had her baseline mammography this week and they found a fluid filled something where her orginal lump was found. Today at one she had it aspirated so they could analysis the fluid. I don't know if the results were immediate or if she (and all of us - but mostly her) get to spend a few days on edge snapping at everyone because the waiting is the hardest part. If it's not one thing it's another and I am not quite sure how she does it other than the obvious, she has to do it. If you're going through hell, keep going.

I am a fat fuck and can barely stand it another day. On the other hand, I have quit smoking for almost 3 weeks now with only a few small trangressions not worth noting, although i did note them. Hmmm.

We had a BLAST in Ithaca. Liz, Jen, Wyatt and I all drove up on Friday morning for a few days of west and welaxation. Wyatt was a star, just a 100% genuine, bonafide STAR. "Jack" had a party for some Cornell grads, Casey got his Masters (smartypants I am so jealous!) and so Jen and Larry ran around like lunatics setting up tables, washing off pollen, spiriting away spider webs and spending untold sums of cash on booze. The weather held out and although it never got sunny on party day, it also never rained. We got to spend a good deal of time the next day down on the lake, Wyatt had to sit in the shade so we were on our own on the grass giggling and taking in all the sights and sounds of the lake, 5 dogs and various water activities. I took some really nice pictures of Wyatt and eventually he took a nap, I wrapped him up in the blanket he was laying on and went up onto the dock and had a mimosa. Jen fried her face - like over welll with a side of burnt toast fried, and despite all my worrisome fretting Liz did not burn her scalp - don't ask me how.
It was a great time. These are the days.