Entries Tagged 'family life' ↓

It’s a sickness

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Never in my life have I squealed over tiny pink things. Suddenly my house is overflowing with pink and I’m happy?

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My aunt sent these and I can’t wait to put them on her.   I’m beginning to believe that the shot they gave me after delivering Ellie was not in fact pitocin but some curious infusion of girl germs.

Welcome Home Baby

e4.jpge3.jpge2.jpge1.jpgElizabeth was born Wed at 5:29pm.  8lbs 5oz of dark haired wonder.  She’s 20″ long and sweet as pie.

She looks just like her aunt Laura.

Last hurrah

Tim and I were able to go on a date last night, thanks to some friends who generously offered to watch the boys.

I thought 1408 might be good when the ticket seller mentioned seeing it three times.  We missed the first few minutes due to the website incorrectly posting the showtime and I apologize to the four other viewers for coming in late.  We were fast and attempted to be quiet, but the seat I chose in the dark was broken and dumped me unceremoniously toward the floor.  It is hard enough to be graceful with limbs the length of mine.  Throw in being nine month pregnant and forget it.

Other than floundering around trying to stand up and not make a scene the movie was excellent.  I had heard that John Cusack had done a fantastic job and I was not disappointed.  The movie while not lifted word for word from the story was impressively adapted for the screen.   It has been a long while since I have seen a thriller that didn’t rely entirely on gore or “cat in the closet” scares.

We finished off the evening with sushi (hush, I don’t indulge often) and a ride home through last night’s impressive lightning show.

Thank you to our friends for allowing us this last escape before baby.

We’re ready now.

Tale of Typhoid Tim

Once there was a husband who complained of a wicked sore throat.  He moaned and groaned, sweating and pale.

“Go to the doctor!”

“It’s just a cold.”

One by one we’re succumbing to spiking fevers and glassy eyes.   Expensive trips to Urgent Care, throat swabs, shots, and antibiotics.

I’m the last one standing.  A few more sleepless nights and nothing will save me.  I swear, if I go into labor with strep throat, there will be Hell to pay.

Hospital visit

I don’t exactly like touring the labor and delivery ward at 32 weeks.  I had been hoping the midwife would pat me on the head and send me home with a lecture to rest.   Instead I was sent to Trident for some testing, fluids (they pushed them so hard my fingers are swollen), and some medication to stop contractions.

In your teens, did you ever drink as much coffee as you could, just to see what it felt like? That’s what these shots do, but they stop contractions and I’ll take that over a preemie.

I’m under orders to rest and not pick up my toddler if I can help it.  Friends and ladies from church are taking these orders quite seriously and pitching in to make sure I can live up to the resting part while Tim is at work.   I’m very, very grateful.

5 more weeks to cook and I will happily welcome the arrival, now let’s just make it there.

Nesting?

Not me… oh no, it’s Tim.

He’s building shelves and caulking the shower.   I would like to think it has nothing to do with Blizzard taking down the realms of World of Warcraft for a patch.

Random

I’m very sad that Brittney resigned from NiT, although I can understand why it would wear on her.

I’ll be 30 weeks pregnant tomorrow.  Strange to think that there will soon be another person in our house.

Some have said I look 18 in this picture.  I don’t see it, but I will certainly take looking young over being young.

My stepdaughter will be here in a little over a week.  This will be fun, hormonal step-mom plus pre-teen hormones.  How long before someone cries?  Maybe we should set up a pool.

It’s hot.  No, really hot.

Something ate my dove’s eggs.  For the past couple weeks I’ve had a dove nesting on my back porch.  This morning I went to check on her and everything was gone.  Such is nature, I guess.

Aidan is reading, but won’t let us in on what he knows.  If we ask him to demonstrate he clams up and acts weird.  Randomly though, he’ll shout out words either from the page I’m looking at, a sign, or he’ll spell something. He’s also in this interesting stage of figuring out what every word starts with.  His writing and drawing is improving in leaps and bounds.  He’s gone from not wanting to do anything to writing letters and numbers.  His goal seems to be learning to write our phone number.  Thankfully it’ll be a long, long time before he visits any public restrooms alone.  He’ll be four in September.

Mark, well, Mark is well on his way to being two.  He’s perfected the tantrum but balances it out with episodes of pure sweetness and light.  Occasionally he belts out a perfectly articulated sentence and then won’t say another word for a day or so.

It’s a strange house in which we live.

Vent: The new mom shower myth

I am so sick of the new moms “can’t get a shower” whining.

Take the baby in the shower with you, if you think the rugmonkey can’t survive a 3 minute bootcamp style shower.

I became a master at showering one handed with my colicky son.  My husband worked 12-14 hour days and you do what you need to.  I could shampoo and condition without getting it in his eyes.  Drying off was the tricky part, but sometimes a couple extra towels were used as a makeshift pallet so I could throw on something clean. No, it’s not the same as a good scrub down and shave, but at least I wasn’t scaring the neighbors.

Small town Saturday night

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Margo and I rounded up the families and headed for The Depot in Moncks Corner.  They held their second annual Spring Fling Bluegrass Shindig.  We only managed to stay for the opening band, but the kids enjoyed the musical accompaniment to their usual shenanigans.   (pushing, shoving, bickering, chasing, and just generally having a good time)

Yes, we hung out at the very back of the crowd, to avoid torturing the audience, although I’m sure we still managed to annoy a few folks.

Shut-in

I have got to change something before I lose what little is left of my mind.  I’ve left the house exactly twice in the last two weeks without children in tow.  Prior to that was Margo and I’s quick trip to Strawberry Chapel.  Yes, that’s it.  I haven’t even been able to escape to the grocery store alone and well, that’s just sad.

I need some time out and alone before I end up on the news.  A couple hours away from Mr. I’m Cutting Four Teeth Just as I Decide to Establish My Independent Nature would probably do a world of good.  When I’m worn out from the boys’ antics my tendency is to close rank and not leave the house with them, so aside from errands for absolute necessities, none of us have left the house in the past week.

I’m looking forward to Sunday evening, but I think something else needs to open up, fast.

I’m also out of books, so we’re reaching critical mass here folks, critical mass.

Ignore any news blurbs about crazy women in Moncks Corner, it simply wasn’t me.