I didn't find anyone tracking these shutdowns, where your "cloud"-stored data might evaporate as the sunshine of a bad economy comes out (or some horrible metaphor like that).

I'll try to provide references for people where there's a reasonable place to migrate data, if such a place exists, too.

Ben is not a devil--he's a lobster!

We had a bunch of firsts.

First time Rex slept away from home since brought home from the hospital. This is nearly ridiculous at 18 months, but there you go. Friends and family have been nice enough to come to us. (Ben has spent several nights away from home this year.)

First time Rex flew! (Fourth time for Ben.) He didn't understand the "must stay pretty much in your seat" rule at first, but got used to it. Ben and Rex passed out for most of the return flight, JFK to SEA.

First time we all slept in one room. We've been lucky enough to have the boys together for several months, but we've never had or needed to sleep in one room. We did that in a hotel the first night, and it went just fine. Lynn and Ben slept in one bed, I slept in another, and Rex slept in a pack and play provided by the hotel. We all went to bed at about 2 a.m. Eastern!

First family vacation. Ben has traveled to visit family, but at various of their houses. This was Lynn's brother and sister and their significant others and Lynn's folks at a vacation locale. Very nice. With my folks recently moved to Port Townsend where my aunt and uncle settled full time over a year ago, we'll have more trips there in the future.

First time for either boy in Maine! Yay! Yay!

First time various of my friends and Lynn's relatives met Ben and Rex.

First rented minivan.

During the trip, Rex's elocution, vocabulary, and grammar went through the roof. We've seen this before: whenever Ben was in close contact with family for a few days, a development jump occurred. Rex started becoming a mimic on the trip, repeating things -- the best was "hot pursuit!" -- as well as pronouncing multiple syllable words like "driveway."

One of the best moments of the trip was after we'd landed in Seattle, and Ben was still passed out and Rex just recently awake. We managed our way off the plane, grabbed our gate-checked gear, and headed to baggage check. The boys were giggly and very happy. They were certainly pleased to be home.

I asked Ben while Lynn was off at a restroom whether he had missed home. He said, "Not so much because there were so many fun things to do." Which is great: I'd worried he'd been a little constrained and bored. The flip side: he'd had six other adults talking and playing with him at various times.

I love this picture of Ben because it looks like he's seriously out in the middle of a lake kayaking. What you can't quite tell from the photo is that there's a line tied to the kayak, his grandpa is a few feet away in the water, the water is about a foot deep, and he's about 5 feet from shore! He was ready to go scooting off a mile into the lake, though. (He's also wearing a life jacket.)

Preserving and canning is much much more difficult, but they might be in our future.

What a peach!

Sunday morning, it took a while for Lynn and I each to get our own extra sleep, get showered, keep the boys entertained, and we just had to get out of the house. It was about 11 that we dragged Ben out, who refuses to admit when he's tired; he just gets whiny at those times. So we weren't prepared for much, but we needed a walk. In the afternoon, Ben and I were to go to Carnation, over a bit east, for a birthday party at a farm with a small amusement park. (We had a fantastic time; the park was perfectly scaled to toddlers, and just cheesy enough to be amusing but not so cheesy as to be kitsch. And there was a hay jump: a bunch of hay that you could jump into, and a hay maze.)

The walk wasn't going so well. Lots of complaining, bad behavior. We found a house being built nearby and walked around it. And then Ben suggested he wanted to take a longer walk, which would take us by The House with the Cow Weather Vane. About five blocks from our house, there's a rambling home that's modest in size but quite tall, and the owners plunked a particolored cow on top. Ben had spotted this last year when we did holiday light walks, and was quite taken by it.

We were walking by, and one of the homeowners was walking out, and saw us staring at his home. I told him how important the weather vane was in our walks, and started chatting him up about the corn he had planted out front, that seemed to do well. He--Tom--invited us all up, and gave the boys some corn, and showed us he and his wife Judy's city chickens out back. He let Ben reach into the laying nests and pick up two eggs, still warm! They had a very productive backyard and frontyard, which is quite difficult to do in the Montlake neighborhood, as we have postage-stamp plots. They'd packed a lot in. The chicken fertilizer was making their garden go bonkers this year, they said.

Well, meeting neat neighbors, and the magic of walking into someone's backyard to find a tiny farm, more or less, broke the bad mood, cheered Lynn and I up, and make us happy all day.

Now that's what neighbors are for.

We ate the corn last night; ooooweeee, was it fresh and crisp. Ben had a bite; Rex ate a fair number of kernels after he was "all done" with a pretty super supper of his own. The eggs are in the fridge and must be eaten soon. We're plotting precisely what our comestible response to the neighbors will be.

(An aside: We switched to buying organic eggs, often with some extras like flax-fed cluckers that produce them, and we noticed at that time how thick the shells were. Whenever I have to use a commercial egg now, they seem so fragile. The yolks, too, are much darker and rich--more betacarotene in properly fed chickens--in the organic and free-range eggs. In Bill Buford's Heat, a book about his experience transmuting from a foodie who was a New Yorker editor into a cook who worked in restaurants for research and fun, he essentially concludes that pasta in Italy is better than in the U.S. largely due to the eggs.)

Lynn and I have met so many of our neighbors since having kids, because we walk around the neighborhood so much. Between gas prices and a desire for simplicity and exercise, we are trying to drive much less--and I think succeeding. The boys generally like walks, and it's a great way to meet our community.

I suggested to Lynn we print out some big Google maps of our neighborhood and start writing down the names and some details about people we meet so we can remember later!

We enjoy the before-dawn option for delivery, where orders of $25 or more are delivered free (it's a $50 threshold for attended 1-hour windows). The unattended option is either before dawn or after dinner or in multi-hour blocks during the day.

While Amazon is charging a bit more than Whole Foods on some items and about the same on others, when you factor in our lack of time, the cost of gas, wear and tear on our vehicles, and the ability to get organic products--well, it's not really a premium we're paying.

So when I checked out the Fresh page to place an order this evening, I discovered Amazon Now, a subset of their product offerings that I could order, you know, now. Books, toiletries, electronics, video games, and so on. Stuff that they must keep in their local warehouse. This is big. It's not quite Kozmo, where you could get soda and M&Ms and a DVD delivered in about an hour after you called, but t'ain't far off.

Lynn noticed a few weeks ago that whenever we ordered anything from Amazon proper, a guy in an unlabeled car and not wearing a uniform would drive by and drop it off on our porch, sometimes the same day, I believe. This was a little crazy. I was thinking, we're paying for Amazon Prime, but is there really someone assigned just to deliver our stuff?

Bespoke ecommerce.

Ben developed it Friday night, woke around 11 in some distress, and after consulting with our insurance company's excellent registered nurse hotline, Lynn took him to Children's Hospital's emergency department. They were there for hours, Ben did fine; he was given a mild steroid and sent home. That was pretty much it. He has a horrible sounding but increasingly infrequent cough, and he's had no distress.

Since croup is caused by a virus, it was likely that Rex would develop the same cold or flu, and then it might (but wasn't guaranteed) to also turn into croup. Rex slept through most of Ben's tumult on Friday night, but started to sleep poorly on Saturday, skipping naps in the day and waking or not going down at night. Through dint of hard effort, we managed to get him to sleep mostly for a few days, and then went through the ringer Monday and Tuesday night.

We've been playing musical beds. On Friday night, Lynn and Ben returned from the E.D. and slept in our downstairs guest room. Saturday night, I think Rex eventually slept in our room, Ben stayed in his. On Sunday night, if I can remember right, Ben and Lynn slept downstairs, Rex slept in his crib, and I slept in the parental bedroom. Last night, I slept downstairs, Ben in his room, Lynn and Rex in our bed. Whew. All of this typically happening at 11 or midnight or 1 am.

Happier days

The worst croup symptoms typically pass in 48 hours, everyone has told us. We took Rex in to the pediatrician again today to make sure there was no ear infection, and that nothing else was going on. Fortunately, he was otherwise fine. The doc thought last night might have been the worst of it, given that he some croup symptoms for more than a day already. If we're lucky, tonight won't be so bad and then we'll settle back into a routine.

Rex only slept an hour mid-day today, not giving Lynn or I enough time for a nap, and woke nearly inconsolable. Lynn and I worked like crazy, and she was able to get him back into bed with her where they dozed for about 90 minutes. Then back to inconsolable.

We wound up taking him for a walk in a jog stroller which cheered him up quite a lot, and spent some more time on the phone with our pediatrician, making sure the steroid or something else wasn't at work with his horrible mood. Didn't seem to be.

He was a little better later in the day, but he really feels horrible. Ben didn't feel to bad during most of this, and he's older, so he'd prefer to play than to complain, it seems.

We think Rex may also be in the middle of a bad teething bout, which led to me putting on some Orajel on his gums to soothe that part. The poor guy. We're just losing sleep (we're getting 4 or 5 hours a night in many different pieces, most of the last several nights); he's the one who feels like death warmed over.

The good news (for us at least) is that the parents are coming. My folks will likely be in Port Townsend in a matter of weeks. PT is about two hours' drive away, and I know that in a pinch we could ask for their help. Lynn's folks will likely be living about 35 to 45 minutes' north sometime soon--maybe 6 months away, but more likely a year, as they are waiting for a rental unit to open up.

The problem, of course, is that you don't want to expose your parents to the diseases in your home, but perhaps we'll get surgical masks and gloves. There may be times where we just need someone to make a meal, make sure the kids don't start playing with carving knives, and we grab a spare hour sleep.

I now understand fully why you aren't supposed to move away from your parents!

Don't pity us too much. We're generally well, just worried about the kids and sleep deprived. Most people in the world are worse off than us. We can afford to worry; I was able to shift some freelance responsibilities and stay home today, and may do the same tomorrow if needed.

We'll get through this, but it's about the toughest experience in my parenting life. Even the horrible stomach flu last fall left us all week and sleepy, so we were sleeping, just not well.

Update: Rex is over the worst. He was awake from about 10.30 to 11.30 pm last night, but I think more out of habit. His croup-y cough was gone, he didn't have an "attack," and he got back to sleep after only a bit of wailing, and slept til 6, waking happy. Ben and Lynn still retreated to sleep in the basement, but we might be back to normal tonight.

The scariest part yesterday of Rex's unhappiness is that he wouldn't play -- he hardly played at all yesterday, and that was scarier than most of the other behavior.

The key to keeping the kids happy is to get out of the house, and Lynn and I took the boys individually and collectively to dozens of playgrounds and parks. The weekend before last, Lynn took Ben down to Hood River to visit her brother and his girlfriend, while I had Rex for about 2 1/2 days. We had fun, although it got a bit unrelenting towards the end!

On Monday, I actually took the day off, Ben was in childcare, and Rex was with Lynn for some time back with mommy. I saw Hellboy II; I liked it! On Tuesday, Lynn and I did a day date with Ben at school and Rex with a babysitter. We went to the Seattle Art Museum, had lunch, and saw Bottleshock with Alan Rickman. (A bit of a mish-mosh of a film, but still very enjoyable.)

Wednesday, my body said, whoa, and I collapsed a bit. I had a bug or something, and had to stay in bed late and then slept three hours in the middle of the day. The next day, I was able to give Lynn some relief, though, and she got out of the house on her own. I felt myself quite quickly. It might have been exhaustion, too, because I felt better so fast.

On Friday, we went to Bainbridge Island, visiting Fay Bainbridge Park briefly (twice) and Bloedel Reserve, a foundation-run former estate with quite lovely grounds, plantings, ponds, and buildings. It's marvelous and low key. Rex had his first ferry trip.

Saturday, we had friends over in the evening; Sunday, the Evergreen Fair; and yesterday, we split up a bit so Lynn and I could have some individual sanity before we resumed our normal schedule today.

Lynn and I have been married six years as of yesterday--the event is important, but not the precise date, so we had a very hectic day, and we'll celebrate soon.

Ben and I take the bus to his childcare most mornings these days. I load my bike on the bus, get on with Ben, and we take a short ride there, then I bike to work. It's a nice multi-modal combination that saves me driving around for 15 minutes near my office (some days) to find a parking space or breaking down and spending $7 to park for a day. That plus the saved gas and wear and tear outweighs the $1.75 for the bus for me (he rides free).

Rex and Lynn often walk down to the stop, which is about 200 feet from our front door. The other morning, Lynn was off and our weekly babysitter Taryn walked down with us, holding Rex. Ben was playing with the bell, and Rex said, distinctly, "Ding!" He now likes to say it in all circumstances. I think it's his third complete word: "Down" was first, then "train," a couple days ago, and now "ding!"

This morning, I needed to re-record my regular weekly KUOW-FM technology segment because of a double technology failure at the station. It's pretty rare that either their main systems or the backup (an in-studio mini-disc) fail, and sure enough, it happened. So I biked up to the U District, a couple blocks from Ben's child care, and then after recording was on my way down 45th towards my office.

As I'm passing through Wallingford, I see a bunch of kids with a few adults at a bus stop; some kind of summer program. The kids are making the universal sign to truckers of "pull your horn!" But the truckers, knowing urban law, aren't; they can get cited, and traffic was ugly, so they might not have been in any mood to honk.

I rang my little bell as I passed, and the pre-teens were pretty delighted. They cheered, said, "way to go, cycler!", and such like. I said, "The bell's the best I got!" I didn't expect such a positive response. It made my day.

Then I got to the office. A transformer in the building had blown. No power. I'd just sent back a couple of cell data modems to a carrier yesterday. ETA for repair was 5 to 20 hours. I called my friend Nancy, and cycle a few miles north where she works out of her house for a technology news service, taking an old laptop with me. I got a few things done, but the laptop was missing critical software I needed. By the time I had gotten it mostly in shape, the building manager texted that the power was back on. A bird had hit the transformer, and the utility was able to fix it quickly; they thought it was an underground cable at first.

So, lunch with Nancy, then a cycle that was mostly downhill at speeds fast enough that I was employing the brake liberally. A few hours of real work, and now, another bike ride home!