It had to happen. After all, before now, it had only happened once. About a year ago. Until tonight.

Robbie was playing in the tub tonight, blowing bubbles with his bottom and looking at me, laughing. And I contentedly read while he played. Until it was time to wash him, when I noticed the water looked a little yellow. And much thicker than it should. It took a little while for me to really see through the toys and bubbles. But boy did I see it. Everywhere. Diarrhea.

I’m sure my eyes about popped out of my head, and I looked up at Robbie. He met my eye and burst out laughing. And tried to shove a toy in his mouth. A disgusting, diarrhea-tub toy. Which I yanked from his hands and threw out of the tub. Along with all the other toys, which are now soaking in a Clorox filled tub, hopefully disinfecting.

I’m not sure why my first thought was to grab the toys and not the child, but that’s what I did. Maybe because if I’d grabbed the child first, the toys would have sat in the water, gathering nastiness. So, yes, Robbie sat in the tub and extra 90 seconds. That also bought me some time to decide what to do with Robbie. Obviously, I couldn’t just rinse him in the tub. That would need to be thoroughly disinfected. The kitchen didn’t feel like a great option, but it was the only one I had.

So, the dripping child and I made a dash for the kitchen. Robbie hasn’t taken a bath in the sink for months, but he was much better at it now than he was eight months ago. Probably because he was so shocked to be in a new place. So, hopefully Johnson & Johnson’s bubble bath got him appropriately cleaned.

And to think… All this happened when he’d already had “two big poopies” at daycare. Is there ever a safe time to bathe?

Do you ever feel like you didn’t really live before you had a child? I never realized how much of my life I missed. On the weekends, Justin and I used to sleep until 10:00. After work, I would come home and hang out on the couch for a few hours. But ow there’s just not time for it anymore. There are too many things to do and enjoy.

Take today for example. I picked Robbie up at 4:00, and we were off to the Farmers’ Market. After all, there are only a few more weeks that it will be going on. Where in the world am I going to get pasta, fresh wildflowers, and raspberry chocolate chip scones after October? And it’s so much more of an adventure going with Robbie. There are more things to look at, taste, and run to. He helped me pick out a bouquet of flowers this afternoon. While munching on a sugar cookie that had been dropped (by Robbie) on the asphalt. Now, I could have cared that the cookie had been on the ground. But I didn’t.

We got home in time to see the UPS man delivering a package for the neighbors. I think he felt a little bad that he wasn’t bringing me a package, but he let me know there was already something in there for us (a Keenex box cover, shaped like a couch). In my past life, I would have exchanged pleasantries with the driver and gotten inside. Today, we took our time, so Robbie could see the truck start up and drive away. And then it was time for the five-minute stair climb. It’s so worth the extra time, watching him lean his head back to smile at me because he’s so excited that he’s doing it himself.

And after that, there was time to empty drawers, eat dog food (Robbie, not me), and fix dinner. All before 5:45. Even a year ago, I might have put Robbie to bed and enjoyed quiet time. But there were still things to do. There was a run to go on with a girlfriend (we only did 1.5 miles instead of 2.5, but still!). There was a backyard to clean and a house to straighten. There was dinner to cook, lessons to plan, and blogs to write. And it feels so nice to have used all of the hours I was given today.

I finally got it tonight. A quiet house. Almost all to myself. Robbie went down easily. I put him to bed around 6:45 and he played with his Fisher Price farm for about thirty minutes. Is it wrong that I have a toy like that in his crib? I figure it’s best to go with whatever works, and that appears to work.

Justin was gone to class tonight, and he flies out first thing tomorrow morning. I won’t see him again until after class on Thursday night. I remember that this time last year, I dreaded his trips. I was terrified to be alone with Rob. Although, at this point, I was fairly used to days alone with Robbie. Justin was gone 42 of Robbie’s first 90 days.

Now, instead of dreading these trips, I relish them. I love having a few hours in the evening to myself. And, in all honesty, Justin’s trips aren’t as lonely for me now that Robbie has become a real person who likes to interact and play. Granted, during the summer, when I was home alone all day, the trips made me want to claw my eyes out. But now the peace and quiet is kind of nice. I get my play time with Robbie after work and until around 6:30. Then it’s time to do whatever I want. I can eat what I want for dinner, watch what I want on TV. I could decide to go to bed at 7:00, which is actually sounding like a pretty great plan for tomorrow night.

Don’t get me wrong. I will be thrilled to see Justin when he walks through the door late Thursday night (assuming I’m able to stay awake that long). But it’s really nice to sit and enjoy the quiet. I don’t know how those couples who have to see each other every night for their entire marriages do it…

Justin and I were in desperate need of a new dishwasher. The top rack of ours had fallen onto the bottom rack, and the top spinner (is there a technical name for that?) had fallen off as well. So, we traipsed off to Home Depot, child in tow, two weeks ago to purchase a new dishwasher. It came Saturday. Last night, I posted an ad on craigslist for a plumber and had one volunteer to come install the dishwasher last night. Originally, he wanted to charge me $200. Being the savvy woman I am, I told him I had another plumber who would come for $100. He immediately cut his price in half.

Now this “twenty minute job” took ninety. I kind of figured it would, knowing how Frank, the man who owned the house before us, worked his repairs and installations. But, everything was finally running and good. The plumber left, and I started the dishwasher before jumping in the shower. When I got out, I thought things sounded funny. Turns out there was no water going in to the dishwasher. It was all going into my neighbor’s ceiling.

Knowing Justin, I thought it was best to not tell him and go straight to bed. Particularly since I was the one who hired the plumber. And I did go to sleep. Until 2:00 in the morning, when I woke with a start and couldn’t go back to bed. I decided it was a fine time to investigate. So I pulled the dishwasher out from the counter and found the errant tube. Water spewed forth whenever the dishwasher was on. But there was nowhere to put it. Well, there was a cup to put it in, but I wasn’t sure how that would help with the water.

So I moved on to the instruction manual, where there was no mention of this tube. And then I checked YouTube for installation videos. Nothing about that stupid tube. I finally decided it was time to go back to bed. After all, at this point it was 3:50. So, I slid the dishwasher back under the cabinet. Too far. I couldn’t close the door all the way, and I couldn’t get it back out. And I didn’t care. I had to get some sleep in order to survive the day.

I hoped Justin wouldn’t want to see the dishwasher this morning. In fact, I prayed about it. But it was the first thing he checked out when he came into the kitchen. And, observant man that he is, Justin wanted to know why the door wouldn’t close and the unit had come unscrewed. So I burst into tears. And Justin just hugged me and told me he wouldn’t have been upset (I’m not entirely sure I believe that, but I really appreciated it this morning).

So, today I was on a mission. Our dubious plumber told me he didn’t know what that tube was for. GE had no idea what I was talking about and scheduled a service call. Home Depot told me none of their models have tubes on them. That’s where I drew the line. I asked her to please go look because I could not deal with trying to find another plumber. So, Jenny, my new Home Depot buddy, unscrewed her model dishwasher and looked for a black tube. Which she found. Plugged into the little cup I had found at 3:00 this morning and inspected. But not very closely because I missed the part where there was an opening into the dishwasher.

I came home and had the dishwasher fixed in three minutes. And that counts unscrewing the countertop from the base in order to get the unit out from where I had pushed it in too far and it came up behind the lip of the counter. And now, my dedicated readers, I leave you to be thankful for your installed appliances as I head to bed for more than three hours of sleep.

Turns out “not” was the option I was given this afternoon. Justin and I are members at Massage Envy, and we’ve both built up some pre-paid massages by not going regularly. Justin actually has seven (now six) unclaimed massages. So, I booked one for each of us today. Justin got his. I only got twenty minutes of mine.

How, you might ask, does one only get twenty minutes of a one-hour massage? It starts when the fire department bangs on the door and says, “Everyone out! Everyone must evacuate the building!” and you are almost asleep on the massage table. Nothing quite like that to get you out of your lovely, relaxed state. This brought back memories of the time I indirectly caught the house on fire when I was five or six.

Again, I’m sure you’re asking how that happens. Well, it helps when there is a light bulb in a fixture with a wattage over what is recommended (apparently, those recommendations are pretty accurate). I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and left the light on, so I could see my way back to my bed. A few hours later, the whole attic was on fire. I remember Mom coming in and, very calmly, telling us to please get dressed because the house was on fire.

Today I managed to get dressed with a little less panic than I did the first time. Really it was more irritation than anything. We all gathered in the parking lot and learned there was a gas leak. So, I suppose it was important that we evacuate, And, in all honesty, I’m kind of relieved that I was able to escape that massage. It wasn’t very good. So, I had a free mediocre twenty-minute massage. And I still have two pre-paid massages left. But now I have to find the time to escape from Robbie, Justin, and the house in general to have an hour to myself. That part could be a problem.

When I got home, the boys were ready to show me what Robbie had started doing while I was gone. That kid was walking all over the place! And with more confidence than he’d had even yesterday. We went to play with some friends later in the afternoon, and he did a pretty good job keeping up with the other boys, who are both experienced walkers. When Robbie is just around Justin and me, he still wants us to clap. If we stop, he will stop walking, look at us, and clap. He only starts again when we continue to clap. We could have a monster on our hands!

It happened today. Robbie’s first major accident. It’s one of those things that you know is going to happen, but there’s nothing you can do to prepare for it. In fact, before it happened, I knew it was probably going to happen.

After breakfast, Justin put Robbie on our armchair to sit, expecting him to wriggle his way off in a matter of seconds. But Robbie stayed. For an hour. Just talking and sitting and, eventually, playing with the toy I brought over for him. Then he got bored and stood up. He toyed with putting one foot or the other on the arm of the chair, and I told him no. I should have told him to sit down or gotten him off the chair altogether. But I didn’t.

And then, all of a sudden, Robbie was on the floor. I’m not sure how it happened. I missed the spit second it occurred but say him topple over the arm of the chair and land on the floor. On his head. Square on the top of his head. And I saw his poor face crumple as the fear and pain hit him at once. I was across the room in a split second, cradling him in my arms, telling him it was going to be OK. Justin was right behind me, equally concerned.

Ironically enough, we were both exceptionally calm. While rocking Robbie, I asked Justin to go get a bottle of milk. Justin was back in a matter of seconds, and, suddenly, everything was right with the world. Robbie grabbed the bottle and sucked away as the last few tears rolled down his cheeks. We could see the bright red bump forming, but it was already forgotten. By Robbie at least. I don’t think Justin or I will ever get that image out of our heads. And young Robert will certainly not be standing on chairs any time soon.

In other news, we got a new dishwasher today. And that easy self-install? Yeah, not gonna happen. The last dishwasher was connected with copper piping, which is going to require a plumber. Lovely. Fortunately, that trusted babysitter was at the house tonight. The pushy one. The one who told me that Justin and I needed to go out this weekend, so she could come over. And she did the dishes for me. I knew I liked her. So glad I gave her all those A’s. They’ve definitely paid off!

Even when you love a job, you know you do it. Especially around 1:00 on Friday afternoon. You’re using all your energy to work for the weekend. I’ve been using all my energy for that since 5:25 this morning when the alarm went off for Justin to get up early and head to Connecticut. Except Justin slept another twenty minutes to 5:45 when I finally made him get up and help with Robbie (who was also up some time around 2:30; I’m fuzzy on the details because he wasn’t upset enough to warrant me actually getting up).

I was still working for the weekend when Robbie and I got home around 4:45. Roberto and I took a slow walk to the house from the car, my child showing his Kentucky roots in bare feet. He stopped every few inches to pick up a new treasure – a leaf or semi-decomposed pine cone – gathering them in his hand with care. He then gingerly placed them on the steps as he climbed them to get up to the house. All of them but one. That last one? He handed it to me to safeguard and he climbed his way through the door. It almost broke my heart to have to leave it outside!

My head has been pounding all day. My ears are blocked. My body is just tired. On days like this, the weekend doesn’t start until Robbie has gone to bed and I am off the clock. From 6:34 on, it has been perfect. Every married woman’s dream Friday night. You guessed it. A husband who finally turned to me and said, “Are you sick?” Chinese food on the couch. Pawn Stars on the TV. Two episodes. And I’m getting ready to put a third one on and watch from bed. After I take a healthy dose of NyQuil.

To my dear seester… This posting was just for you. I wanted to go to bed without doing it but didn’t want to disappoint you.

Young Robert has been a great sleeper since he was born. He slept through the night the first time when he was ten days old and started doing it regularly when he was eight weeks old. So I am a very, very spoiled woman. And I really have no right to complain when he doesn’t sleep well. But, man! I’m just so tired!

Robbie hasn’t slept well for the past week. He wakes up every time we walk past his room. He wakes up every time he rolls over. In fact, I’m not even sure he goes to sleep at all. It feels like he just lies in wait. Compound that with the fact that I have caught his lovely cold, and you have game over. And the worst part? I can’t do anything to make it better. At all.

It used to be that I could fix anything by nursing him. I was the most important person in his life. But not any more. Now there are so many more things to go through. Is it the diaper? No. Is it a fever? No. Is he hungry? Usually yes. But tonight… No. Does he want a bottle? Always yes if it is milk. Usually no if it’s water and he’s crying. Does he want a toy? Never if he’s crying. Why bother trying anymore, you ask? Because that’s my last resort. After that, it’s either start over with the diaper or see if he’ll cry it out and eventually go down. That’s what I’m currently doing.

I know this is a combination of several things. First, Robbie has his first cold of the season. That always makes it hard to sleep. Especially if he’s achy and a little feverish. Second, I think there are about nineteen teeth coming in. Well, at least two. Which I’m sure is more uncomfortable than I’d care to remember. Finally, Robbie’s just started “really” walking — more than two or three steps at a time. That’s a pretty huge life change, although I’m not sure why it has to affect his sleep. Do all those experts really know what they’re talking about?

So, I’m off to take some NyQuil. And hope I don’t have any reason to wake up until the alarm goes off at 5:30 for Justin to head off on a day trip for work. Thank God tomorrow is Friday.

Well, maybe “tragedy” is being a little dramatic. I suppose it’s really just more unfortunate. But, no matter how you look at it, my cell phone met its match in one Robert Gaetano yesterday afternoon. Remember how nice it was to have Robbie involved in the grocery shopping? Well, before he got really involved, I made the mistake of keeping him occupied with my cell phone, may it rest in peace.

I first noticed there was a problem when the outer light wouldn’t go off. And then I heard static coming from the phone. I knew at this point there was a real problem. Especially because the static kept going even after I turned the phone off… And when I turned it back on? No picture for a few minutes. Finally, a few hours after we got home, I heard a creepy beeping. My phone breathed it’s last breath.

It’s currently in a bag of rice on my counter. Not sure why it’s in rice, but my sister is the resident cell phone expert. She said put it in rice, so that’s what I did as soon as I got home. Of course I hadn’t sent myself any of the videos I kept on the phone. Like Robbie’s first steps. So I’m still holding out hope that there might be a resurrection of sorts on my counter later tonight.

Other exciting events in the Manna household today include the onset of the first cold of the season. Yup. Rob woke up with a face covered in snot this morning. Lovely. So glad he’s back in daycare… Maybe this makes me a bad mom, but I cannot stand the sound of the kid when he is all stopped up. It just makes my skin crawl. I will be so glad when he can finally blow his own nose, especially because he grabs the tissue and shoves it in his mouth when I try to wipe his nose for him. It’s moderately disgusting. And could someone please tell me why all those medical geniuses haven’t invented a medication for children under two with coughs and colds? Could someone please organize a 5K to fund research for that? I’d be the first to sign up!

Over the past few weeks, Robbie has started trying to be more involved in what Justin and I do. Some moments, it’s absolutely incredible to watch. Others, I long for the stationary baby who napped in my arms. OK. Let’s be honest. I always long for a baby to nap in my arms. Unfortunately, Robbie wants nothing to do with cuddling or sleeping near anyone else.

Lately, Robbie has taken to putting his things away at night, which I’m really enjoying. He takes his toys that he’s thrown out of his Pack ‘n Play and throws them, one by one, back in at night. Tonight, he played in the kitchen while I put away groceries, unloading the contents of the drawer under the oven. He pulled out the cookie sheet and the four cake pans, one by one, methodically putting them on the floor. And then he reloaded the drawer, making sure to include his snacks that were pulled from the baker’s rack in the kitchen. Robbie then pulled everything out, taking the time to bang the pans together before restacking them in the drawer.

The other way Robbie really enjoys helping is at the grocery store, which I discovered this afternoon. We have a new method for shopping now, which is much more fun than when I used to go on my own. Now, I pull an item from the shelf and hand it to Robbie. He then apprises the situation and finds the perfect place in the cart for it. Maybe he doesn’t find the perfect place, but he does chuck it nicely into the cart. The only problem was that he got bored after thirty minutes and started pulling items from the cart and throwing them onto the ground. He also ate his way through the lid of a yogurt, causing potential disaster for the unsuspecting bagger. Guess who got an open yogurt for dinner tonight?

While I’ve mostly enjoyed Robbie being more involved, it does have it’s pitfalls. Take sleeping for example. Robbie is very concerned now that he will be missing something fabulous when we put him to bed. Bedtime is full of tears for ten or fifteen minutes, while Justin and I lie low and pretend to be doing boring things that couldn’t possibly interest a one-year-old. We don’t really have to pretend. If only Robbie knew that we were just sitting around waiting for it to be late enough to go to bed. The same problem happens in the morning, particularly if I get up at 5:30 to go to the bathroom. It’s as if there is a hair trigger rigged to his bed and he knows when I step foot out of my room. In an instant, he is up at his post, crying.

So, as much as I love playing with Robbie during the day, I wish he’d go back to his sleep-until-6:30 ways. In fact, that was part of our prayers tonight…