Asher is 10 months old!

Or at least he was 2 days ago.  I feel like such a terrible mommy-blogger.  Not only did I miss it, but I missed him turning 9 months also.  At least I think I did, I'll have to go back and check now.  I'm pretty sure.  I didn't even wish him a Happy 10-month Day.  I didn't even realize it until after he'd gone to bed.  In my defense I was pretty sick.  Jeff calculates that I was awake for maybe an hour and a half total by 5:30 in the evening.  And yes, he knows this because my wonderful husband stayed home to take care of Asher so I could sleep.  I still feel like crap, not so tired, but definitely crappy.  I woke up last night every time I had to swallow.  Between Asher having a bit of an unsettled hour around 1 am, me clearing my throat all night long, and our pipes snap, crackling, and popping the more than they've ever done since we got here, I'm amazed Jeff got any sleep at all.  I should really go to the doctor, I have a feeling it might be strep but it's just such a pain to get there.  And I can't actually make an appointment until I register with the doctor, which I have to do in person, so that's possibly two trips I have to make, while sick, in the cold, with a 10-month old (like how I just slipped that in there?).  Ugh.  I might see if Jeff can go to work late tomorrow morning and let me try to get down to the clinic early enough that they can register me and maybe see me all at the same time.  I hate the thought of leaving it until tomorrow and going through another night like last night.  I also hate the thought of having to bundle Asher up and take him out and deal with his fussing while I'm finding my way around an entirely new medical system, all while I'm feeling sick already.  Jeff kept saying we should stop in and register and I put it off thinking, "meh, we won't really need a doctor until Asher's next visit at 12 months".  Ya, I'm an idiot.

But on a more sentimental note, I can't believe it's been 10 months already.  And on the other hand I can't believe he's not talking yet and complaining about not being able to stay up late and watch a movie cause it's not even a school night.  I know, be careful what I wish for.  I was flipping through some blogs this morning and came across this one.  Being a fellow Canadian, I read a few posts and found she does letters to both her sons every month.  I of course cried all the way through them wishing I had thought of that and why wasn't I a mom like that.  It feels like a cheesy thing to start after the fact but I suppose how things look shouldn't stop us.  I don't even know how I would get through a letter like that without bawling my face off, getting my keyboard all wet, and frying the circuitry.  And what would I say.  Well I know one thing I would say.  How amazed I was with Asher and how he reacted to a fight Jeff and I had this morning.  It was quite a doozy, not one of my proudest moments.  We ended up upstairs talking it through and even though there was some yelling and mommy was crying and the room was filled with tension at times, Asher was intent on cheering everyone up.  He went back and forth between Jeff and I, not nervous or anxious, but with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye inviting us to play.  And even when we couldn't be brought out of our sorrow and frustration, he didn't give up.  Finding himself on our bed he just rolled back and forth giggling to himself.  I am in awe of my little man, when some children would have been crying or scared, he was calm and confident that his parents loved him and loved each other.  I guess we're doing something right.  Right?