My time at County General

Tomorrow is the last episode of ER. When I heard that ER was going to be cancelled I was not that upset. There had been rumors for years. No show can last forever (maybe the Simpsons) and it is just a TV show after all.
But as I have watched this season I found myself savoring each episode. Then as the promos started say "Only three episodes left" and the such, I started to get a sentimental as I tend to do.
I can't remember why I started watching, and I know it wasn't from the beginning. I think it caught my attention in the middle of the second season.

I don't know how many times after watching an episode I was convinced that I should go to medical school. But after a good night's sleep that usually went away.

The show was therapeutic. It made me cry countless times, either for one of the characters, a patient or sometimes myself.

In some ways it's good the show is ending. As I began to become attached to the characters on the show I soon realized they could never be happy there (Sometimes I thought the writers were a tad sadistic). Mostly it was in relationships. Whether it was Nurse Hathaway and Dr. Ross, who had to move to Seattle and recently we learned are still happy together. Or Abby and Luka who also moved for a fresh start. If the show is over then I can imagine everyone is living happily every after (Archy and cop lady; Sam and Tony; Neela and Ray).

Some complain that they changed characters too much on the show, but I grew to like this. Just like a real ER. It would take me a while to like new characters, but then I really felt invested in their lives.

Dr. Green I will miss you most of all

While I don't have lines from the show memorized or posters of doctors on my walls, friends knew not to call on Thursday nights and I have not missed a show since I started watching. By my rough calculations I have spent more than 200 hours in the ER. I know the first thing to do in an emergency is order a CBC and get the patient started on a saline drip. There is a part of me that thinks I deserve at least a few credits towards a medical degree.

Every Thursday night for almost half my life I spent an hour at County General, and yea, I think I'm going to miss it.

This is not how I left him

Crib update:
Third morning in the crib, this is how I found Isaac.


I could take this two ways.

One: look at all this room I have to wiggle, yea!
Or two: this bed is so large and frightening I will just move into the corner to feel safer.
If I go by the smile he greeted me with then it's option one.

And one more thing, Spring has Sprung!
If I am interpreting that look correctly, I believe he is wondering how he could get the new and wonderous, purple and white things in his mouth.

Imagine the trauma when I put him in a real bed

Just five months ago Isaac was closer to me than any other human has ever been. While I understand it is the natural progression of things, it is still strange to me that we are kicking the person out of our room who was just recently kicking me in the ribs from the inside.

For the last two nights Isaac has slept in his crib, in his room. The first night there was this little twinge in my chest when saw his empty bassinet when we went to bed. I always said I was so impatient that it would be hard to wait nine months for a baby. No, the hard part is how fast it is all happening. While it thrills me to see what new things he will do almost on a daily basis, I just want to shout "Hey you, slow down. Give me a few minutes to absorb it all."


Without his giant head blocking it, I could see the vibrant orange warning label that I have been ignoring for several weeks now. It clearly states that babies should not be in the crib over three months of age (check), weigh more than 15 pounds (check) and can roll over (he actually reached over and turned on the music on his mobile last week. This really creeped me out until I realized it was him.)


While I will read them thoroughly, I have always viewed warning labels as more of a friendly suggestion than law. I believe that they are for stupid people that don't know what they are doing, which is never me. (Please insert sarcastic voice here) . Or to prevent lawsuits. Or a combination of both of these things. Besides Isaac still had a good inch and half before I would have to fold him in half to fit in the bassinet.


Isaac graciously agreed to pose for a photo to demonstrate:



As I was putting him in the crib for the second night, proud of myself for not reverting back to the bassinet, I noticed something. Something kind of nice. That giant crib made my baby look a little smaller. Like he is not going to start college tomorrow:




Look at all that room. I could fit three of him there. He practically looks like a newborn again. That is until I look at one of his newborn photos (yes, in the bassinet):

The first casualty

Every time we rattle or squeak one of Isaac's toys, Leo perks up his ears and gets all excited with a "are we going to play?" look on his face. So I knew eventually I was going to have to figure out a way to keep the dog toys and the baby toys separate. Eventually came sooner than I thought.

We lost a pacifier tonight. I am sure it was my fault. I left it were Leo could get it. To make it even worse I am sure that he will be puking up little blue plastic pieces later tonight, probably on the bed. If you notice there is a dog rope just inches from him. But a rope he has chewed on a thousand times is so boring compared to a small piece of plastic with baby drool all over it.

At least he shows no interest in chewing on the baby.

Peek-a-boo

Yeah?

Isaac just deposited a large, warm glob of partially digested milk and drool on my chest. To keep it from running between my boobs I had to perform a maneuver that any gymnast would be proud of. And I was actually happy about this because none of it landed on my adorable baby. It's a lot easier to change my shirt than his.

mmmm babies

You know how some people threaten to eat babies. Such as, "you are so cute, I could just eat you up" said in a high pitched voice. Well I have decided if I were to eat Isaac he would take like warm buttermilk pancakes.*



See even he thinks he tastes good

*no need to worry, I don't even think we have syrup in the house.

sleeping beauties

I could do that

I feel that I am always jumping on the caboose of bandwagons. I am not even sure what a bandwagon is.

Just a couple of years

In a first grade class at a local elementary today for work and the kids were playing a game of Heads Up Seven Up, and one of the three kids standing at the front of the class, the only boy, tooted a little.
The girl to his left glanced at him, and his smirk confirmed where the noise had come from. A small wave of giggles went through the classroom, including from the perpetrator, me and the teacher, but then the kids were quickly onto the game.
After leaving the school, I thought about the incident and how much difference a few years can make. Fart in front of class in the first grade, get some giggles. Do the same thing in seventh grade and be known as the "Fartster" until graduation.