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I just left a message with the pediatrician and accidentally left my best friend’s phone number instead of my own.

No, I’m not distracted or anything.

Once again I’m stealing from Shauna.
Today I’m thankful for:

• Hats. Of all types.
• Finally finding good pizza.
• Post-pizza-pile-ups.
• Naps.

Why do children who were put to bed two hours late insist on waking an hour early?

Tim took the baby out and brought home a little boy.

It might be premature, but I like to think I’m leaving the exhaustion and misery of the first trimester behind. I find myself longing for naptime a little less each day. In my experience there are none so introspective as a pregnant woman and when you add a blogger into the mix, you create a monster.

I recently stumbled upon an amazing blog written by an American midwife in Malawi. Be forewarned many of the stories are heartbreaking.

I am so truly grateful to live where and when I do. I feel truly blessed.

I can’t tell everyone how happy I am to hear that all of the results came back clear.

No celiac, no colitis, no Crohn’s. All of his digestive enzymes seem normal, he’s absorbing fats and proteins as he should. There’s no underlying infection.

So, it boils down to we have no idea why he is the way he is, but it’s not affecting his absorption of nutrients, so we’ll monitor him.

It is so nice to know I’m not poisoning him with every meal.

Most mothers lament over their inability to get their children to eat vegetables. That does not seem to be a problem in our house. My boys are eating machines, if they can catch it they’ll eat it, with rare exception. Yesterday I was distracted, probably trying to de-fur the house as our basset hounds think it’s time for the great Spring shedding.

I heard my oldest scream, “No Marky No! No snatching!”

I arrived in the kitchen just in time to hear an ear splitting shriek from the sixteen month old as his brother bit him hard enough to draw blood. My husband unwittingly arrived home from work and was assigned the task of disciplining the three year old, while I comforted Mark.

What were they fighting over you ask?

Broccoli.

We made it through clear liquid diet and other pre-procedure fun on Wednesday just fine. I think I was more upset by the whole thing than Aidan. I was worried it would devolve into some horrendous experience that he’d tell other adults in a three year old’s convoluted way and I would have to explain, while the neurotic part of me would flip out waiting for them to call DSS and report all the horrible “going ons” at our house.

Joan was kind enough to stop by and say hello. Aidan mugged, squeaked, stomped around and pretended to be shy.

Eventually they got around to performing the endoscopy/colonoscopy and I was sent back to the room to wait. They underestimated the length of the procedure and left me to panic alone as an additional 15 or 20 minutes crawled by. Thankfully, I could see the head anesthesiologist wandering the halls, which I knew he would not be doing if there were a problem. Finally the doctor came by to tell me everything went fine. He said the colonoscopy looked pretty good and he got everything he needed. He also said that there were some abnormalities in his esophagus, but that it was probably damage from reflux.

So here I am with mixed emotions, mostly relief. I told three separate pediatricians that my infant screamed and held himself rigid for hours a day. “Oh, it’s just colic.” I’m a little angry, I was at the end of my rope with him as a baby and it turns out there were options if any of the three had considered he might have reflux. I know it’s in the past, but I was terrified he was autistic, now I know he was in pain.

We should have results from all of the testing at his follow-up.

My husband’s ex-wife and I get along fairly well. That’s not to say I call her up for a weekly chat or we go have our nails done. If I have a concern about my stepdaughter I do feel comfortable enough to call her and have a civil discussion. I’m very lucky in this regard.

I wonder though how my stepdaughter feels at the moment, both her mother and I are expecting. Between her mother and I she already has three much younger brothers. The ex-wife is due sometime in March with a “surprise” and we’ll have the same in August. I have a feeling that poor Mikala is going to be surrounded by boys.

How will she feel if it’s a sister and she has to share a room for the first time in her life? She just turned twelve and time is flying, college is no longer a distant concept. Will she feel as though we’re just waiting for her to leave?

This will be the first time she’ll be staying with the respective families as the babies arrive. She’ll be in Minnesota for school and here for the summer, for each of the previous siblings she’s been with the opposite parent. Will her being present be a help or hindrance? She’s at an age where she could be of great help, but I’m always very leery of asking. I worry she’d fall into the Cinderella mindset at times and others I chastise myself for not giving her enough credit.

I must say stepparenting has never been dull. There are always so many other points of view and ramifications to consider. I’ve heard it said that a new sibling is perhaps one of the best forms of birth control available. We can only hope she see these new babies as sources of future adulation. All of her brothers already think she walks on water.