Maria decided to make up for months of health by getting some wacky combination of pink eye, stomach flu, and now an upper-but-rapidly-becoming-lower respiratory infection. The good news is that this week's trip to the doctor marked the first time said doctor was able to do a thorough check up on her without her screaming. (This fear of doctors has always perplexed me about Maria. She's clearly a hypochondriac, talks about her "terrible cough" that is almost never that bad, and asks for a band aid an hour on a usual weekday, but doesn't like going to the doctor? Come on!)
Anyway, part of what made it a success is that Maria brought her own doctor kit. Here she is giving Pete the Cat a check up in the office parking lot.
She napped off and on today, but took time to play in her new house, lovingly, and perhaps at one point, drunkenly constructed by her father over the course of many, many more hours than anyone ever imagined it would take.
Alas, this new house of hers does not have a toilet, which is a shame because she TOTALLY uses one now. Her transition from diaper kid to potty kid was abrupt, happened during the chaos of the move, and probably involved lots of other things that aren't supposed to happen according to the baby books.
The Move! Ah yes, just like that*, we're moved. Kurt loves the new place. We love the new place. It felt like home faster than possibly any other house I've ever moved into before. Below is the picture Kurt's teacher emailed me the other day. Happiest Boy Ever.