We went to Pennsylvania on Thursday for my real-life-best-friend Erin’s son’s first birthday party, which was lovely and very fun and such a special event to be included in. The boys got along well (or as well as a couple of one-year-olds can be expected to get along) and we got to check out the new (very old) house Erin and her husband Mitch just bought. We don’t get to see these friends nearly enough so a couple days visiting was awesome.

Unfortunately, about thirty seconds after we left to drive down there, Baby Evan’s nose started running like a faucet. He went from being miserable and snotty to happy and snotty and back several times an hour the whole trip, peaking with what may have been a fever late Thursday and sleeping 12 hours straight Friday night. But he’s 100% better today.

I’m really hoping it’s just teething. It probably is. Definitely. Maybe. But there’s also the teeniest tiniest chance it’s fifth disease. I know a friend whose kids had fifth last week so we MIGHT have been exposed, although I haven’t seen any of the kids in more than a month and the friend in at least a week. I’m not worried about Baby Evan – it’s not life threatening or even particularly unpleasant, but it can be very serious to the fetus if a pregnant woman catches it. It can cause anemia in the unborn baby, sometimes severe enough to cause death although the internet assures me that is very unlikely. Pretty unlikely. Probably. Maybe.

I really shouldn’t have Googled it.

So right now we’re just playing a waiting game to see if Baby Evan gets a rash some time in the next couple days. If he’s fine Monday and Tuesday I’ll breathe a big sigh of relief and forget all about it. If he has even the teeny tiniest of red spots, I’m calling my OB and asking for the blood test to see if I’m either already immune or already infected. Of course, every time I sniffle or get tired or think “ugh my head hurts” my brain goes OMG EMERGENCY!!!! and I consider calling the 24-hour on call line. Not that it would do any good – I really doubt routine blood work is something they would send me to the ER to do and there’s no way the office is open on a Sunday and probably closed Monday as well.

For now, I’m going to try to relax and enjoy the rest of our holiday and have fun going through the 300+ pictures from the party. Like this one:

For the record, that's Reid's brand new birthday toy my kid is using. Incorrectly.

"No don't worry Rory, she's not dead. This turtle just suffers from a condition known as Bubble Butt.*"

*Non-made up condition. Swearsies. It was caused by an accident with a boat propeller.

This weekend has been like some sort of terrible research project into the nocturnal habits of juvenile humans when exposed to large amounts of sunlight, food and fun. Code Name: tire the crap out of the baby even though it doesn’t guarantee anything.

On Saturday we met our friends Brandon and Amanda and their daughter Madison down in Essex, CT (Motto: The Best Small Town in America)(My New Proposed Motto: Where To Go If You Want To Feel Really Bad About Your Economic Status). We took the kids to a rather child-inappropriate museum on the history of the Connecticut River and let Baby Evan do his best hobo impression, running in shoeless circles for an hour before we tracked down one of the most delicious fried clam po’ boys I’ve ever had at the Black Seal Restaurant. It was so good even Baby Evan liked it, chomping down part of the giant hoagie roll it came on, an adult-sized handful of clam strips, and dozens of french fries. Did I mention he also ate half the grilled cheese we ordered for him? (Our first time ever ordering off the kid’s menu! THAT is the kind of milestone they should put in baby books.) We didn’t get home until after 3, but by thanks to some crazy magical time warp he was perfectly happy to run around in more shoeless circles yelling at the dog until bedtime, when he collapsed in a heap of exhausted cuteness and slept for TWELVE. STRAIGHT. HOURS.

On Sunday we ran last minute errands (including letting Hobo Baby Evan run up and down the aisles at Stop & Shop – you guessed it – shoeless) before Brandon and Amanda and Madison came over and we all headed out for our first boat ride of the season. The weather was perfect, the traffic on the river was incredibly light and the kids behaved (at least for the first half of the day) especially after stuffing them with Goldfish and Twizzlers. We spent four hours enjoying our horrible financial decision boat and the sun and the water, with everyone but Baby Evan jumping in (water temp: 72 degrees) for some splashy fun.  After forcing one overly tired child into an afternoon nap, we went over to Brandon and Amanda’s (can you believe they weren’t tired of us yet?! What I am going to do when they move to Virginia???) for grilled chicken pineapple quesadillas and a few rounds of the marble game.* For dinner, Baby Evan ate several pieces of bread with goat cheese dip and some plain cheese quesadillas plus a whole sippy cup of watered down lemonade. Instead of the quite, easy bedtime we were expecting when we got home, E and I had to take turns rocking/patting/nursing one INCREDIBLY ANGRY SCREAMING CHILD for two hours before he would go to sleep and stay asleep. Eventually a dose of (generic, non-recalled) baby tylenol was what did the trick and Baby Evan slept from 11 pm to 6 am this morning. Which, well, just isn’t good enough anymore. He needs at least 10 hours of sleep to keep him from turning into a monster and in my fetus-growing state I need at least 8 hours.

WHAT THE HELL, BABY EVAN? What was the one factor on Saturday that led to a good night that we somehow missed on Sunday? French fries? No afternoon nap? Less sunshine? More hobo shoelessness? Is it teething? Diaper rash? A broken leg? Demon possession? Please tell me so I can solve the problem with food/shade/medicine/holy water and start getting those wonderful 12-hour nights on a regular basis. Sandy and I thank you.

* The marble game: best card/board game ever. Requires 4-6 people and a special wooden board, unless you are REALLY addicted in which case I’ve heard you can make a board with cardboard and little hole-punch circles. Sometimes called “Social Security” in Ohio, but the rules are less stupid complicated.

Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who donated! Your generosity will help mamas and babies have healthy, full term pregnancies. Although the walk is over (and thus your chance to make me suffer personally is past), donations and volunteers are always welcome.

Our weather on Saturday was picture-perfect – low humidity, hours and hours of sunshine, warm enough for shorts, which is unusual in Connecticut in April. Unfortunately, the walk was Sunday. Not such good weather – rain, rain, and more rain, but it didn’t stop tons of people from showing up. I briefly considered leaving Baby Evan home (with E of course, not tied to a chair or something) but decided marching with my baby would be more fun. And it was, except for the fact that my stroller doesn’t have a rain shield so I hauled his chubby butt 3 miles in a backpack carrier. It was…a really good workout. And I definitely think I deserve extra credit for doing it pregnant.

Here are the pictures I took and some of my live-tweeting. I was super excited when @marchofdimes actually tweeted back!

Skeptical baby is skeptical about getting out of the car in the rain

Once I got the baby in his bubble he was warm and dry. Don't worry, it has air holes.

See? Festive!

Sarah with Baby C. She's one of my crazy hippie friends. You can tell by the baby tied to her chest.

Baby A in her Stroller Strides t-shirt. She's not in a cage, just under a bug/rain cover.

Most of our team, ready to get going! Waiting for the "official" start at 10 am was actually the most unpleasant part of the day.

"Low tide" is the nice way to say it. Although one little girl caught a whiff and accused her brother of pooping.

He says he doesn't hate babies, he's just too smart to go wander around in the rain.

Here we go! The backpack worked really well (and was the only one there) but DUDE, my kid is a CHUNK.

True story. And I tripped like 14 times.

Our fantastic Stroller Strides team!

The view from the end of Bluff Point. Nice today, FANTASTIC in good weather.

Bonus backpack feature: it has a stand so I can put him down for a few minutes. THANK GOD.

In the home stretch on the way back! I don't think walking backwards up a hill to take this picture was a wise choice, but it all worked out.

I've never been so happy to see a stupid balloon arch in my life.

And then we all went for Mexican food and lived happily ever after. Except I’m not sure I’ll be able to pick the baby up at all tomorrow. I think I’ll spend the evening researching what kind of heavy duty muscle relaxers are safe to take during pregnancy. There’s got to be some, right?

I have to say, it was a really great experience and such a good cause. I will definitely participate again next year, although I will being praying extra hard for better weather!

So yesterday I baked an apple pie and E, Baby Evan and I headed over to my friend Cheri’s house to help her build a barn. OK, not really a barn. She just needed help demoing her flood-damaged basement and hauling a literal ton of wet sheetrock, carpet and trash out to the dumpster. The pie part was real though.

Telling your husband he has to spend his Sunday on someone else’s construction project instead of relaxing and watching hockey (NOT THAT IT MATTERED ANYWAYS STUPID REDWINGS) is a pretty hard sell. But a friend was in need. Plus I promised there would be beer and sausage.

I showed up ready to work too, but there were plenty of guys to do the heavy lifting so us women-folk minded the young’uns, handled the cooking and worked on our knitting. If someone had suddenly handed out sun bonnets and prarie dresses I don’t think I would have been the least bit surprised.

Although my feminist, equality minded side wanted to yell about how I could do manual labor too and why didn’t the men chop up these carrots, the whole day was lovely. Plus I didn’t get dirty or ruin my manicure! (Kidding. I don’t have a manicure. And I’m always dirty.) There’s a reason people used to hold barn-raisings and it’s not just because barns are really heavy. Having friends and neighbors to share your work and lend a hand not only makes everything easier, it also builds a sense of community and support. With so many of us living hundreds or thousands of miles away from our family, we need those kinds of friendships. I need someone to call in case I become trapped under something heavy. I need other moms to talk about sleep schedules and poop and nipple pain with. I need somewhere to go that involves adult conversation even while I’ve got a boob hanging out of my shirt. And as lovely as the internet is, I cannot rely on a series of tubes to watch my baby while I paint my kitchen. So these friends, this wagon train, these barn-raisers, are the best thing that’s happened to me since Baby Evan.