A day of firsts

We are again in Indiana. The boys and I flew out on Tuesday morning to be with the grandmas and grandpas while Dada flies a little further west to work for 10 days. Already we have established a sort of routine to ensure maximum relaxation for all involved. We spend each night at Meemaw and Poppop's, where everyone has a bed -- Isaac sleeps on a crib mattress on the floor in my room; Jacob sleeps in the adjacent room in the crib I slept in when I was his size. We wake up slowly in the morning and usually have some sort of entertainment, such as one grandparent reporting to work late to hang out with us, or going to pick up Meemaw for lunch. The fellers take a huge, uninterrupted afternoon nap and then we drive to Mamaw and Dadaw's to hang out with them for dinner, baths, and a movie. At bedtime, we drive back to Meemaw and Poppop's, where Uncle Chrissy and Aunt Jean await us to play with the fellers for an hour before we all turn in. Well, almost all of us.

The entire O'Neal clan has been a little sickly for a few days with a mild bug we brought here with us. Just lame stuff, like a little coughing from Isaac, Jacob snorting when he laughs, and me feeling just a tiny bit yucky. Jacob had been acting a little weird, pulling on his ears and not eating, so I was tempted to take him to my parent's family doctor yesterday. I decided against it, thinking it could just as easily be teething as an ear infection, and that I shouldn't take him to the doctor unless he had a fever.

Last night, after waking up for, no joke, the tenth time in three hours, I tested his temperature, and it was 101.5. This morning when he woke up it was 101.7. At the doctor's later on, it was 101.2. A first for Jake -- his first fever, and subsequent first sick visit to the doctor, here at 11 months. Way to go, Hale and Hardy Monkey! But for now you can just call him Jakey the Hotness, as the soles of his feet are literally hot to the touch. The doctor's appointment was mildly disappointing -- his eardrums, nose, and throat are the pictures of health. He's sick, obviously, but with some stupid virus that can only be treated with Tylenol and hopes that it passes quickly. In the meantime, he's developed a little bit of diarrhea, but it's not keeping him down. He broke his all-time step record tonight, taking 5 independent steps while trying to chase Meemaw's kitty. If he didn't look like somebody who needed sleep, you couldn't tell anything was wrong.

Perhaps because of his situation, Jakey pulled another first today. His vocabulary so far consists of Dada, Kitty, Jean, Hi (HAH! concurrent with a wave), and Isaac (AH-sik!). As we pulled into the parking lot of the doctor's office this morning, he started mewing pitifully from the backseat, for the first time ever: "Mama. Mama. Mama."

Not to be outdone, Isaac is also pulling off perhaps the most important developmental step there is. Two days in a row now, he has worn big boy underwear all day with no accidents. He insisted on wearing his underwear to the doctor's office, rejecting the offer of a diaper. He wore his underwear during his nap and woke up dry. He peed in Meemaw's potty; he peed in Mamaw's potty. He also tried to pee twice (at my insistence) at the doctor's office.

The most stunning development occurred this evening as we were winding down for bed with Aunt Jean and Uncle Chrissy. I saw Isaac doing his wild peepee dance and insisted he follow me to the potty against his protestations (because, though he will pee, he doesn't yet think it is worth leaving the party for). He peed on the potty, we did our potty cheer, and he returned to play. Not five minutes later, he started heading off to the bathroom away from us. "Mommy, I need to pee! I have to go pee on the potty, guys, I'll be right back!" I went with him, took off his britches, and plopped him up on the potty. Sure enough, he did pee again. He stopped peeing and I stood up to help him down when what should stare back at me from inside the potty but a big ol' dookie.

That's right, my precious boy went poop on the potty today, and of his own initiative, no less. After a little practice, he has also figured out how to relax enough at the potty so that, when he knows he needs to, he can start peeing right away, instead of waiting and waiting and then giving up only to go right back to the potty minutes later. So, like, a week after we started in earnest, and I stuck with it because I knew it was the right time for all of us, I think we can unofficially consider Isaac to be potty-trained. What on earth will we do with all the money we'll save not buying his diapers?

I know. Cow milky for everyone!