I'm tired of being sick. Now my throat is hurting again and I'm running a low-grade fever. Eric is fighting a double ear infection, and hasn't been able to use his apnea mask for weeks and weeks, which means that neither of us has been able to get much sleep. (Sam doesn't seem bothered at all by the loud snoring once he's gone down for the night.)

Maybe we're not getting enough vitamins or something.

Anyway, I don't think I've talked about Sam's birthday plans. Next Friday, the one before his birthday, we'll be meeting his usual playgroup at the park and bringing cupcakes (if anybody has a great recipe for chocolate cupcakes, I'm all ears!), hats, bubbles, and balloons. Eric has taken the day off so that he can be there, too. After that, we're meeting my brother back here at the apartment and carpooling to Pittsburgh to spend the weekend with our parents. I'll be bringing cakes - one for all of us and one for just Sam; a local grocery store gave us a coupon for a free little "First Birthday" cake. Sam should get a big kick out of messing around in the icing, and I'll take plenty of pictures.

It's hard to believe that today was his original due date. One year ago, I was relishing the horrified looks on library patrons' faces when I was able to tell them that the baby was due "today!" He was showing no signs of budging. I miss the feel of his firm pushes and shoves against the inner wall of my uterus; I can still close my eyes and see the little, slow-moving bulges moving across the surface of my abdomen like a shark's fin. I loved almost every minute of that pregnancy.

And now he's a "big boy." Today at the library, he kept trying to escape, laughing maniacally as he scampered between my legs and made his way toward adult reference at the speed of greased lightning. Every day, he surprises me with a new skill or a new side of his rapidly developing personality.

He's going to be a whole year old. It sounds so trite, but I have to say it: where did the time go?

Well, I thought I had more to say, but I'm just sitting here, staring at the screen and wobbling dizzily around in my seat. I want to go up and go to sleep, I think. Sam's been sleeping pretty well lately, so I stand a reasonable chance of getting some quality rest...until, of course, Eric follows suit. It's not his fault, I know, but good grief, can that man snore!

It starts with a light, regular snore that is actually pretty innocuous in and of itself. If that were all it was, I could actually live with it. The snoring gets louder and louder, though, and the timbre changes; it moves back and forth, from his nose to his throat, gurgling and whistling as though he were trying to breathe under water. Increasing always in volume, it finally reaches a fever pitch - and then stops, as his breathing is interrupted by the sleep apnea.

          A few seconds pass, during which time I find my own breathing also interrupted by the suspense. The room seems deafeningly silent, and then...

And we start all over again. The whole process takes about thirty seconds, more or less, and it goes on all night long. Oh, do I miss that apnea mask. I can't wait until these ear infections heal so he can use it again.