Thoughts and Ponderings

• Feeling slightly guilty for eating dinner with the baby in the sling and discovering after the meal that he is covered with bits of stray rice and bread crumbs
• Feeling more than slightly guilty when a good friend expresses disbelief that the baby hasn't had a bath yet, but how dirty could he really be?
• Wondering what I should call the clothes I have been wearing... pajamas worn during the day or clothing worn to sleep in
• And a related question, how many consecutive days and nights can a person wear the same clothes... no, let me rephrase that I know how many a person CAN wear the same clothes, but how many should they? Not that I have any first hand knowledge in this area of course, just curious.
• If the baby pees on the clean diaper while you are changing him, can you still use it or do you have to get a newer diaper?
• Why is it that the same baby who sleeps soundly and contentedly in his car seat during the noise and chaos filled daytime will only sleep at night if he is attached to my boob?
• Why, even though he is attached to my boob, do I wake up several times a night convinced he is dead when I never give it a second thought during the day?
• Wondering what the world's record is for the length of time a sane person can be sick, because I think I am going to break it. I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired. I can't even stand to be around myself, not sure how my family is standing me.
• Thinking that the toy manufacturers are working in cahoots with the twist-tie manufacturers. It is like a cruel joke opening up the kids toys to find layer after layer of twist-ties holding the toys firmly into their boxes. At one point I was tempted to tell a child that the box was a part of the toy and they had to play with it like that. But I didn't. I'm sure my fingertips will heal and grow back at some point.
• Well, I am being beckoned to find my teeny tiny screwdriver and install more double A batteries in a toy that I will probably wish would disappear in another day or so.

Scenes From Christmas

Christmas Eve tree decorating... note how the ornaments are only on the bottom 4ft or so of the tree. I am not sure why we go through the pretense of wrapping the ornaments in newspaper since any fragile ornaments we had have long ago been broken.




Toasting their holiday with non alcoholic champagne.




Really, in spite of the look on my 5 yr olds face, it is non alcoholic.




The night before... our presents go around the room and are not just under the tree so that the kids can go to their own pile and cut down on the number of pre-dawn fights.



Christmas is SOOOO tiring.




The first toy tragedy. Slinky, slinky, fun for a girl or a boy... or not.



Oh look the Imaginext boxes exploded their toys all over the sunroom.






Why do parents think it is so cute to dress their babies up in costumes? Is a 19" Santa cute?




"Mom, I am SO going to get even with you in about 15 years for dressing me like this."



Hopefully the key to me *finally* feeling better.



Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas.

Please excuse me while I go back to hacking up a lung and collecting my brain matter, which has exploded from my pounding head.

He Sees You When You're Peeing...

Today I joined the ranks of overstressed parents everywhere and threatened to call Santa Claus and tell him to lighten his load and forget about stopping at this house.

Of course I live with wiseass children who are much smarter than I was at their ages. I would have been quaking in my tiny Mary-Janes at the prospect of Santa not coming to my house. But no, not my children.

My 8 yr old rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, I'm sure you know his phone number. I doubt he just gives it out to *everyone*. Just think how much he'd be bothered if it were listed in the phone book."

My 10 yr old said, "Why do you even need to call him. I thought you said he can see everything we are doing."

And I said, "Yes he can see everything you do. Santa knows who spread the entire tube of toothpaste all over the sink last night and who peed in the wastebasket. I just was going to call and remind him to put you on the right list, you know the list of children getting COAL"

My 5 yr old said, "You mean he can see us even in the bathroom?"

And then I began to stammer, because obviously I have not thought this through enough.

My 7 yr old said, "That is a little bit creepy. Why would Santa want to watch us in the bathroom?"

Never could I have envisioned this scenario before I had children.

And so now here I am wondering how the holidays got to be about threats, lies, and a peeping Tom.

These Here Are Working Boobs...

I was whining to my husband about the sorry state of my nursing bras. I think I only have four left, and those four are hanging on by a thread. The one that I am wearing right now is 10 years old.

Rob told me I should just go buy some new ones.

But buying nursing bras isn't very exciting. They are all white. They have huge wide straps, even when they aren't needed like on a 32B. Hello? there isn't much to holster up there. And they are just plain ugly.

But I really want a nice bra and I am sure I am not alone. My wishes are not extravagant, just because I am nursing a baby does not mean I want to wear undergarments like a Pentecostal grandmother.

Then Rob said I should go to Victoria's Secret and buy some nice pretty ones.

Nursing bras are the antithesis of the image Victoria's Secret wants to promote. And so I had to let him in on the "secret". That store is all about smoke and mirrors. It's about pushing and squishing, lifting and padding. That store is for show boobs, for boobs you dress up and take to a party.

But the boobs I have are not for show. They are working boobs. And after nursing for 10 years I am not sure there is enough smoke and mirrors to help them iffen they even wanted the help.

Still, you'd think that the bra manufacturers could make something attractive and functional. Is it too much to ask?

And They Say Men Are Clueless

Scene: Sitting in waiting room of gymnastics center waiting for 5yr olds class to end. I am nursing the baby and the man sitting right next to me is obviously uncomfortable and is looking everywhere around the room except at the nursing baby. I finish nursing the baby and hold him up on my shoulder.

Man: (looking at me as if he hadn't noticed I was sitting right next to him for the past 15 minutes) Wow, you had your baby. Congratulations. How old is he?

Me: He is 6 days old.

Man: So, is he sleeping through the night?

Me: What?

Man: Sleeping through the night, is he?

Me: Don't you have kids? I mean I assume you do since you are here watching little kids do gymnastics.

Man: Yeah, I have two kids.

Me: Oh.

Man: (nodding to himself) That was a really stupid question wasn't it?

Me: Ummm. Just a little.

Obladi Oblada

Life goes on. Things have returned to normal here, for better or worse.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly...

We managed to get our Christmas tree chopped down and into the house on Saturday and so far it has only fallen over twice. Rob climbed onto the icy roof to hang up our huge wreath on the front of the house and didn't fall to his death. That is how we measure success here. Not sure what that says about us other than our standards seem to have fallen pretty low.

Fa-la-la-la-la lala la-la...

I baked 5 different kinds of Christmas cookies with the children over the past week. I did feel slightly guilty for waiting until the went outside to play yesterday to make the final batch.

Okay, not really. But I did think that I should feel slightly guilty.

However, if I had to tell people to stop licking their fingers and touching the cookie dough again I may have fa-la-la-la-lad myself into a brain aneurysm. We are having fun making cookies, dammit. I figure that the oven temperature should kill any germs. And if not we will just be spreading the love to Rob's family.

Tis the season to be jolly...

My one year old suddenly spiked a fever of over 104 yesterday afternoon. Thankfully today it is down to 101 without medicine. Trying to keep her away from the baby has been a task. I decided that my first instinct to yell, 'Keep away. Don't breathe on him!' was not very nice.

And neither was spraying everyone with Lysol.

Okay, I really didn't do that. But I want to.

Fa-la-la-la-la lala la-la...

I have to figure out our Christmas menu and go to the grocery store at some point in the next couple days. I may just end up making some of the food that I made fun of at Thanksgiving. Opening up a can of corn and heating it up can count as a vegetable, right?

Don we now our gay apparel...

I probably shouldn't even worry about it since Rob's family *likes* that sort of food. Even though I know that they would probably prefer the store bought hermetically sealed Pumpkin pie, I can't help but want to make the dairy-free tofu pumpkin pie. I get some sort of perverse pleasure out of feeding them weird (to them) foods and then telling them what it is made out of after they have eaten it. And that is probably why my BIL is bringing a ham.

Fa-la-la-la-la-la la la la...

My holiday spirit has been sucked dry already. The baby is having trouble with reflux and my sinus infection is coming back, despite the fact that I am still taking the antibiotics. I have a mental list of all the things I still have to accomplish before Christmas, as well as a mental guilt list of all the things I have already cast aside, like Christmas cards, visiting Santa, presents for anyone other than the children, ninety percent of the decorations... I am pretty sure I have turned into Scrooge this year.

Troll the ancient Yule tide carol...

And just what the hell do these lyrics mean?

Fa -la -la -la- la, lala la-la.

If anyone is looking for me I will be hiding the corner, scarfing down cookies, and waiting for the Spring thaw

Snowflakes

I found the patterns for making these snowflakes here. The kids enjoyed doing these since they turned out looking like snowflakes and not just rectangular pieces of paper with squares cut out of it.



I guess if we can't enjoy the snowflakes outside we can enjoy them inside ;-)

Part Two

We got off the elevator on the maternity floor and were met by a nurse who brought us to a tiny assessment room. She was nice and calm and understanding of my fear. She gave me a gown and told me to climb on the table so we could hear the baby. She turned the machine on and put the doppler to my belly. I heard nothing. She moved it over, still nothing. She moved it a third time and I became aware that I was holding my breath. And then I heard a faint woosh-woosh. She moved the doppler over again and I heard the heartbeat loud and strong.

The nurse looked over and smiled at me and we just quietly listened to the heartbeat for a few moments, and then she said, 'That's the best thing we could hear right now.'

The on-call doctor had already been called and was on her way over to the hospital. I was going to have to entrust my care with a doctor that I had never before even laid eyes on. That was a bit frightening to me. But at that point I already knew that I had no control over the situation and that I was going to have to trust that people who had more knowledge than me would have my best interests at heart.

The doctor arrived and explained placental abruption to us. I nodded and listened to everything she said but once she said that their primary concern was the welfare of the baby the rest didn't matter. She felt that my bleeding was not that bad at the moment, it had stopped gushing, and we could let my body labor for a while on it's own and see what would happen. But if I didn't progress on my own then I'd need to have pitocin.

I didn't care that I'd have to be in bed hooked up to monitors constantly or that I could only have clear liquids until the baby was born. While I wouldn't welcome a c-section, I knew I wouldn't give the slightest argument if the doctor said I needed one. And so I focused on the woosh-woosh in the background.

I moved into a real labor and delivery room. IV with saline and antibiotics in one arm, and the blood pressure cuff on the other. And we waited. At this point things were going very well. the bleeding had slowed way way down and I was having regular contractions. The mood had lightened up a bit and it was feeling like a more "normal" labor experience. They all laughed when I was asked what drugs I wanted for pain management and I answered Tylenol and Sudafed, both of which they ended up giving me along with Robitussin.

After several hours I was checked and had made virtually no progress so I was hooked up to pitocin. The contractions picked up but were still very manageable. I got up to go use the bathroom, which was quite a feat since I had to unhook all the monitors and IVs. I got to the doorway of the bathroom when I felt another strong gush. Blood again.

As I was getting back into bed the doctor came into the room and looked around at the blood. I was hooked back up to all the monitors. The baby was still doing great and my blood pressure was fine. The doctor looked at me and said, 'We need to talk about the epidural again.' I had said earlier that I didn't want one. She wanted me to get one as a precautionary measure. She said that she had seen abruptions go from being manageable with all the parties doing well, to critical in a matter of minutes. Having the epidural in would save precious minutes if that situation should arise. And so I agreed.

The contractions picked up quite a bit in their intensity and I was really needing to focus on my breathing and beginning to get annoyed by lots of little things. The anesthesiologist arrived and put the epidural in. I stressed to him that I only wanted a "little bit". He put the epidural in and I lay back on the bed, ready to be somewhat painfree.

But painfree never happened. From my pelvic bones upwards, the epidural didn't take. My knees were nice and numb though. I remember asking the doctor if I did need an emergency c-section were they going to pull the baby out of my kneecaps since that was the only area I had no feeling.

At this point, time and the events become very blurry; I guess pain does that. While I was going through it it seemed to last forever and I was cursing myself for not telling the anesthesiologist that I wanted the maximum amount of drugs. What was I thinking saying I only wanted a "little bit". The breathing was no longer helping and I began vocalizing, which quickly moved into yelling 'This hurts' over and over again. The two nurses I had in the room with me were great. They agreed with me that it hurt. I am not sure why that was comforting, but at the time it was very validating.

Someone turned the volume down on the monitor and I lost my focus. I had been concentrating on the woosh-woosh through every contraction. I was also screaming inside my head. How could I ever forget this pain? I must be crazy to be doing this yet again.

I felt the baby moving down and felt the urge to push. With the next contraction I pushed and felt the baby moving down and out. Someone said that they thought they baby could come out in just one contraction. That instantly became my goal. This baby was coming out NOW. At the time I honestly thought I would die if I had to live through another contraction.

One long push and the head was out. Pant... pant... pant and one more push to get the body out. Rob mentioned that there was blood coming out of his nose and mouth and they were suctioning it out. I was happy that I couldn't see it.

I heard someone say that it was a boy. They lay him on my stomach and he stopped crying and looked right at me. It took my breath away. At that moment I was keenly aware of the miracle of birth and the fragility of life.

I was in love.

The Long Version- Part One

Shortly after I wrote the post whining about how horrible I felt, I went back to bed. I lay there having contractions that were about 10 minutes apart. I tried to go back to sleep, but I was too excited thinking about meeting the baby soon. Everytime I had a contraction I *had* to check the clock.

Around 4:45 I felt a huge gush. I popped up out of bed and told Rob to get up. He had no recollection of me waking him a few hours earlier so he was completely surprised. He got up and went into our master bathroom. I was walking around our bedroom gathering up my last minute things by the light of the bathroom. I continued to feel gushing and decided I had better change my clothes before heading downstairs to call my doctor and our babysitter.

I flipped on our bedroom light and began taking off my sweatpants. It was then I realized my water hadn't broken. I was gushing bright red blood.

I yelled for Rob and he came in the bedroom and saw the blood. Our eyes met and we both froze speechless for a few seconds. Rob said, 'We're leaving now.' And he grabbed my bag.

I called our babysitter and called the doctor. As I was going to get my shoes and coat on I saw my camera and camcorder charging on their holders. I paused for a minute with my hand over them. What if I brought them and ended up having nothing to photograph. I left them there.

I went and stood next to the front door. Rob had gone upstairs to wake our oldest two sons up to wait for the sitter. They only live 5 minutes away, but the roads were very icy and Rob thought we should just go. At the last minute I went back into the kitchen, grabbed the cameras, and threw them into my bag.

We got into our car as the doctor called me on my cell phone. 'Don't come here. Get to the nearest ER.'

So we headed out on the icy roads to the small county hospital about 25 minutes away. We drove in virtual silence. There weren't any words to say.

I guess it's true what they say about their being no atheists in a foxhole. The times you feel the most powerless are the times you feel that there must be something greater than you. I silently prayed the entire time, bargaining with God.

We arrived at the hospital and walked into the ER, unsure of what they were going to tell us. The ER triage nurse seemed annoyed with me that I was at the "wrong" hospital where my obstetricians didn't practice and I had to correct her several times that I was 38 weeks pregnant and bleeding a lot, not slightly. When she called up to the maternity floor and got the information wrong once again and made a point to tell them I didn't have a doctor there, I wanted to punch her. And I thought briefly that must be the reason they have the protective plexiglass around her desk.

As she buzzed us in and we walked to the elevator, I began to silently cry.

The Short Version

It's A Boy!

Miles Emerson
born December 12 at 2:53 pm
6lbs 10oz
18.5" long

Wish I Could Say I Am Feeling Better

but this cold/virus thing is killing me, quite literally I am afraid. And ofcourse now it is the weekend so I either have to wait until Monday to go see my GP or head to the Emergency Room. I am thinking that my head exploding off my shoulders may be an actual emergency so I am justified in going there.

I had felt like I was on the upswing and feeling better, despite my festive holiday eyes. But the past two days have been worse again. I think I probably have a sinus infection since the entire right side of my face is throbbing and congested. I also have what seems to be thrush. Who the hell knew adults could get it, but it is painful. I haven't been able to eat eat much over the past two days because of it.

And the coughing, dear God, the coughing. For all the coughing I have been doing I should give birth and immediately have abs of steel.

I think I am falling apart piece by piece. I feel like a 90 yr old woman sitting on the couch clutching her box of tissues, coughing up green phlegm, and bemoaning the fact that I didn't fully appreciate bladder control while I had it.

And yes, the time stamp is correct. I am up at 3:30am. I had to get out of bed to take more Sudafed and Robitussin. (both okayed by the dr btw, so no one send me hate email about it or I'll cough on you). As someone who generally doesn't even like to take Tylenol while pregnant this past week has been tough.

When I went to go pee, since I have to get up and do that 5 times a night also, I noticed blood in my underwear. I have never had "bloody show" before so I was not sure what to think. I woke up Rob to ask him and he told me we didn't need any melodrama and to go back to sleep. He loves to sleep and would probably say the exact same thing if I told him the house were on fire.

So I thought I'd sit up for an hour and see if I went into labor and thus would be distracted from my illness, or bleed to death and really be distracted from my illness. But neither one has happened and so I think I will go back to bed and try to get some sleep.

I am thinking that December 12th would be a very nice birthday though.

Holiday Spirit

Some people decorate the outside of their houses with lights and garland.

Some people wear those cute holiday sweaters and jingle bell earrings.

Some people bake obscene amounts of cookies and invite other people to their homes to drink eggnog and sing Chritmas carols.

But I decided this year to be different. Why be like everyone else? I will show my holiday spirit in my own unique way.

I decided to get pink eye. The bright red of my eyeballs offsets my green eyes quite nicely and festively. As I look around the room I imagine them spreading holiday cheer to everyone who looks my way.

Hey? Where are you all going? Come back here. I have holiday cheer to spread damn it.

Holiday Survey

from Zelie

1. Egg nog - yum or yuck?

I used to *love* homemade eggnog until I realized a few years ago that I have a dairy allergy. Last year I bought the SoyNog. It was good, but definitely not the same.

2. Stay up until midnight on New Years?

Most likely. Not that we do anything to celebrate, being the boring parents that we now are.

3. Prefer white or colored lights?

Must have white.

4. Favorite holiday song.

My all time favorite from when I was a small child is The Little Drummer Boy. I like lots of other holiday songs equally, but right now I really like the song Dominic the Donkey, a song that is about as reverent as Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. But my kids all love when it comes on the radio and I love it when they are all hee-hawing along to the song. I hope that I am not the only person who has heard this song. And I must say I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I even listen to it when it comes on the radio. But I suppose all pretense of good taste goes out the window once you have children, once you have worn a macaroni necklace out in public proudly, it is all over ;-)

Whoa, way to get sidetracked there.


5. What is your tackiest holiday decoration?
I don't think I have any that would be considered tacky, at least not to anyone with children. I'll admit that the playmobile nativity set is not the height of decorating fashion and does become slightly odd when other toys from around the house gather round the manger. It is a bit disconcerting to see GI Joe tower over the baby Jesus and Woody doll lassoing all the sheep.

6. Do your kids have too much and you wonder just WHY you are getting more?? lol

Of course

7. If you celebrate Christmas, when does your tree go up and come down?

Usually our tree goes up in mid-December and we put the lights on it then. We don't decorate it until Christmas Eve. And it stays up until Epiphany.

8. Christmas again - open presents on Christmas eve, morning, or other?

Christmas morning. Can't open them before Santa arrives ;-)

9. Favorite holiday tradition?

Hmmm, this one is tough. I like our tradition of going to the tree farm and chopping our tree down ourselves and then watching the children decorate it on Christmas Eve with the requisite egg nog and holiday music.
But I also like our tradition of reading every night for Advent by the light of the candles in our Advent wreath.

10. What do YOU want for Christmas?

A healthy little baby in my arms :-)

What? I Can't Hear You...

this is what my 4 yr old has been saying to me all day long.

Last week we had a day with no electricity, well today we have a day with no voice. The no voice being mine.

I can barely speak over a whisper. I had hoped that my talking so softly would have the same effect on the children and they would spend the day talking in hushed tones. It would be a quiet, peaceful, reverant day. Yeah, don't know why I thought that.

Instead I am realizing just how often I raise my voice at my children, not neccessarily in anger, but just to be heard over the din. I am finding it incredibly frustrating today to have to physically get in their faces and whisper to them for them to pay any attention to me.

I guess waving my arms around like a mad woman doesn't make anyone take notice. I even threw my shoe across the room in their general area to get their attention at one point; they just threw it back at me.

Not to mention the fact that my 4 yr old is pretending he can't understand a thing I am saying even when I do get his attention.

Argh... I need my voice back.

Dilation, Effacement, Inductions... Oh My

Today I had my ob appointment and first internal with the Group B Strep test... oh fun!

The baby is at -2 and I am 2cm and 50% effaced. This scares me slightly. In all my other pregnancies I have never even been 1cm before going into labor, either naturally or induction, and not one of them took longer than 30 minutes from 3cm to baby in my arms. We live 1.5 hours from the hospital and Rob's office is one hour away from our house.

I may just end up giving birth like my friend Karen under a tree, though mine would have to be of the indoor variety this time of year, and luckily I do have the Christmas tree ;-) Or at least I will have the Christmas tree this weekend. Karen did offer to come build me a nice cozy igloo to birth in, but there just isn't quite enough snow yet for that. Aw shucks ;-)

And the new hospital policy is no elective inductions before 39+ weeks, I suppose in this climate of malpractice insurance mayhem it is to be expected. I know lots (most?) people don't like to be induced, but I have found my induced labors to be much easier and more manageable. But given that I haven't ever made it that far in a pregnancy, it seems as though an induction isn't going to happen this time. As I was typing this the nurse just called to ask me if I was interested in scheduling an induction for December 28th. I laughed and told her I have never even made it to my due date before and I certainly had no plans of going overdue this time.

Oh well, I am going to try not to worry about things over which I have no control.

I'm not ready to have this baby yet, still have a few small projects to finish around the house, curtains to sew, and a Christmas tree to chop down and decorate. Oh and a nasty cold to get over.



Here is a photo taken today by my 7 yr old. This past weekend when I was out shopping I had a couple of children staring at my stomach in disbelief. Proportionally to my body my belly is huge and sticks straight out, from the back you can't even tell I am pregnant. Sounds like another boy, huh?

In Which I Accept My BMY Award *

The tooth fairy has forgotten to come and take my sons tooth for four nights now.

This isn't the first time she has forgotten. Last summer she was apparently on vacation on Block Island, we heard the rumor from some friends who were also vacationing there ;-), and my son ended up waiting over a week for her to come and take his tooth. She did leave him quite a bit of money and a sparkly note, but still...

I had thought my 10 yr old didn't believe in the tooth fairy anymore, but I guess when there is money involved it is very easy to hide those nagging doubts.

Today my son told me that he *knows* there really is a tooth fairy now. And just how does he know this for certain? Because I, his mother, would never forget and disappoint him so.

Oh just twist the knife a little deeper into my heart.



(*Bad Mother of the Year)

Cough...Cough...Sniffle

I seem to have caught the cold the rest of the family has had.

Can't. Stop. Coughing.

Someone pass the Depends. Ugh.

Being Lucky

With each of my pregnancies I have become more and more paranoid of something going wrong. I can't seem to get over the feeling that at some point my good luck has to run out.

I had mentioned this to a friend at one point early in my pregnancy, wondering why some people seem to be luckier than others. And she answered that she didn't think anyone was anymore lucky than anybody else, and it would all even out in the end. That my bad luck would come eventually too.

Well, that wasn't very comforting. This idea has plagued me for months.

Why do I get to have all these easy pregnancies and healthy children when my old neighbor has a stillborn with her first pregnancy. I feel like with each baby I am pushing my luck. With my first few pregnancies I was naively unaware of everything that could go wrong. You got pregnant, nine months later had a healthy baby and that was that. Now, probably thanks in large part to the internet, I realize that it isn't always the case. I am painfully aware of the fragility of life.

I don't think that God rewards or punishes people like some great cosmic Santa Claus. It would be much easier that way, wouldn't it? And perhaps that is what is most disturbing to me, that bad things do happen to good people, and inversely some truly awful people lead easy happy lives.

From the beginning of this surprise pregnancy I have felt somewhat emotionally divested from the baby. I know that probably makes me sound horrible. I haven't bought anything for the baby, haven't made anything for him/her, haven 't brought down the baby stuff from the attic, haven't perused baby name books...

Rob said to me last night that he can't believe we are going to have a new baby soon. Truth be told neither can I. And that scares me, because usually when you can't picture something in your head it means that it really isn't going to happen.

But today I decided that I had to be proactive. I have to be the one with the vision and the ability to imagine this little baby and to be positive. I refuse to allow myself one more negative thought.

And so I am bringing the infant car seat inside and washing it and adjusting the straps to that impossibly small size... the size that you can't believe a tiny person could ever fit in.

It's a big step.

And if I am feeling really crazy I may just get out the baby clothing, blankets, tiny hats and socks and wash them too.

A Day With No Electricity

Nope, not in labor. Which is a good thing considering all the stuff I still want to get done LOL. All the stuff around the house probably is some sort of nesting. I have this overwhelming urge to clean everything and finish all the undone projects that have been hanging around too long. And Rob gets dragged along whether he wants to be or not. If there is one thing he has learned over the years of our marriage is how not to incur the wrath of a pregnant woman.

And on that note, I think I owe Rob an apology. He said my last post hurt his feelings by portraying him as being insensitive. I contend that it merely portrayed him as a man, and , well, need I say more ;-)

And then today we lost power for awhile. I think that they must have turned it off to repair all the downed wires from a really strong windstorm we had last night. Of course that meant I couldn't use the internet, vacuum, do laundry, or finish sewing the curtains I began yesterday. I did help the kids reorganize the toys in their playroom. Which meant that they then wanted to play with them. My suggestion of sitting down quietly with a piece of paper and a pencil and making a drawing of their toys neatly put away was not met with the sort of enthusiasm I had hoped.

I never wrote about all the things I am thankful for, mainly because I am thankful for everything and can't imagine trying to list it all. But, I can say unequivocally that electricity would be near the top of the list.

Overall Crummy Feeling

I woke up this morning feeling like crap. Painful contractions that were completely irregular. Stomach ache. Nausea. Way too many trips to the bathroom. Yes I know, too much information. It seems to have subsided somewhat now, but I am left with a general overall feeling of malaise.

And in further evidence of why I need a wife, Rob told me that he was supposed to go into the city today for work. I didn't say anything since he had already decided he wasn't going to go, though his reasons had nothing to do with a very pregnant wife. But I did look at him in complete disbelief. It takes a good two hours to get to the city and that is if the trains are running with you. My last sponateous labor only lasted about 2.5 hours. You do the math.

In good news, the children are all feeling better and we did not need to take a trip to the doctor's office yesterday. My 4 and 8 yr olds both woke up in the morning feeling fine. And for that I was immensely grateful.

Well, I am feeling well enough to go and make breakfast for everyone, not that feeling unwell would get me off the hook. I had told them all to go and eat apples, but my 5 yr old just informed me that was only a pre-breakfast snack and they are waiting for their "real" breakfast.