I'm going to start with the fun and good stuff. Later in the post you can read about the projectile vomit and the visit to St. Joe's. Everyone is fine today, but Joe and I are wiped out!

Today was a wonderful Thanksgiving. I even had time at the end of it all to sit by myself by the fire and reflect upon how lucky I am. I have so much to be thankful for this year and I am grateful that I am among the more fortunate in the world.

But this is about Jack, right? And trust me, he is feeling very thankful today. This is his first Thanksgiving since he decided to come a little later than planned. But we forgive him because he's just so gosh darned cute.

Before dinner he got to spend some time throwing tomahawks with the men. This is a pastime I don't necessarily understand, but they seemed to enjoy themselves.
















Then we sat down for dinner, where Jack proceeded to captivate the table with his winning personality. Seriously, this is better than tv. He's his own one-man show.

















After dinner it was out to the patio for cigars and whisky, again with the men. Jack seemed content to wave the cigar holder and stare at the fire.

































He also enjoyed playing in the bird bath with my mom



















Just in case you can't tell how skinny she has gotten, here is a shot of us drinking wine and eating fancy cheeses:


























My grandfather even had some wine, if you can believe it:















Not only that, he was brave enough to try and hold Jack for a bit:































What a great holiday. My mother is a wonderful chef, and even tried to tame the meal down to fit into our diet.

So now for the fun part. Last night about 6 p.m. Jack started acting funny. Sneezing a lot, itching his eyes, and fussing around. He spit up a little, which is odd for him, and went back to having his bottle. Well, that was a mistake. I was holding him when the first bout of real projectile vomit unleashed from his midsection. I swear I could feel the pressure all the way from his poor little gut.

We got him changed, me changed, everything mopped up and went back to sitting quietly. This time Joe got to hold him while I researched on the internet and decided he either had Meningitis, Bird Flu, or possibly just a head cold. More vomiting ensued, more changing of clothes occurred. He was not a happy baby.

Joe went to the store to get some Pedilyte and a thermometer (both of ours seem to have disappeared, of course.) And when he returned I asked him to look at Jack's eyes. They seemed kind-of red. Literally, as we sat there watching him, his eyes began to swell like a bad botox-job.

Unlike the last time (if you remember, this happened to Jack in Denver), we immediately went to the hospital. It was obviously an allergic reaction and obviously required medical intervention. Boy howdy.

Luckily the vomiting had stopped, but he looked horrible. His eyes were red and puffy, he had hives all over, and he couldn't breathe through his nose. The ER staff at St. Joe's was phenomenal. I have nothing but high praise for them, given how busy their office gets after hours.

The culprit this time? Spelt bread. This was something I bought a while back as an alternative to wheat bread. It contains no wheat, but apparently spelt has some wheat-like qualities that can make you allergic to both. So now we know, Jack is allergic to spelt. Jeez. It would be nice if these little guys came with instructions.

So after a few hours in the hospital and some heavy medication, Jack came home and slept just perfectly. Only he still got up at 6:30. So he was a little edgy and tired most of the day, but after two naps he seemed to have recovered. Thus the enjoyable Thanksgiving dinner with my family, and a pleasant evening at home.