20 June 2008

is it friday yet???

So it's been a bit of a long week. Not bad, really. Just kinda packed in spite of staying home most of the time. Crazy is a good word for it. I believe I'll expound for a while:


Father's Day was nice. My mom is of a school of thought that gives space to people...we're a close, close family, and I think allowing space is one reason why that is. Anyhow, she was all about just letting my hubby and I hang with our kids for Father's Day and then getting together another time (we're really good at celebrating things on the wrong day in our family). But, my husband loves--I mean LOVES--my family and really wanted them to come, so when I saw his crushed expression, I told him to call and talk to them. They came. (They LOVE him back...indeed, they swear they keep me because I married him...huh...) So w grilled out, chilled out and hung out. Just a nice visit on a lovely day. Until 10pm. Right before my parents (and brother) left, things got interesting.

To backtrack a little, this last paycheck was what I'd called really tight. And I'm doing the post-partum hair-shedding thing like crazy. My mind has been made up for over a month that a good short haircut would at limit the quantity of hair falling from my head. Friday was to be the big day since my husband had a day off. But, alas, the check didn't allow for it and my spirits were crushed...until it occurred to me that my mom cut my hair about, say, 20 years ago and it wasn't that awful. (Really, 8th grade was 20 years ago...ouch!) Besides, she's known to trim my dad's hair on desperate occasions and it never seems bad. So, I roped her in at 10pm. Outside. Under a spot light. Chin-length became barely-below-the-ear-lobes-length. But really, that wasn't the end of the world. Just less hair to shed; I'm pretty flexible.

I did trim it up some after a good hair washing and seeing what was slightly off. She handled the length, I did the fine-tune trimming. And on Tuesday someone said they liked it. I'd frankly been very nervous since it seemed a bit sharp on my features, but hey, I look like I'm 18 again, so it's kinda funny. I'll post a picture once I get them pictures transferred to my computer (I'm such a total slacker...).


Tuesday night, I managed to get to bed around 1am or a few minutes after. Oh, I guess that's really Wednesday way-early morning. Baby J woke me around 2:45am and again around 5am. We've had some long (actually, short seems a better decription!) nights recently, can you tell? However, the clincher came at 6am. Little B came running down the hall calling out, "I'm going to throw up I'm going to throw up!!!" I wanted to crawl back into bed and STAY there. I was in for a long day (definitely not seeing it as short!). I did doze while he hung around the commode as my husband got ready for work, overseeing any major needs that might arise.

But, before 7, I was facing reality and had Little B set up on the couch with a pot for puke. It seems every time he got up, he threw up. Not much each time (face it, puking is a TMI topic), and his tummy seemed mostly empty (thank goodness!) but still, I was dreading it. Somewhere in the last few years, I lost my ability to cope with vomit. I am such a chicken.

I decided this was a pj day and I didn't get dressed except to apply deodorant and make sure I had on presentable pj's since the little boy across the street was bringing over a coke to help settle Little B's tummy (we drink Dr. Pepper and that is not the same for an upset stomach). Thankfully, he felt better by afternoon and was running around and even had a huge dinner (he was starving since he'd only been allowed small amounts of food all day). By the time his energy picked up, I made HIM get dressed (something about the fact his pj's are underpants and an undershirt during warm weather...).

Miss C played in her (recently rearranged) room very quietly and happily most of the day. She'd wander out for some "tee" as she calls T.V. since sick days allow it to be on much more than usual. But then she'd vanish to her room and play some more. Me? I read almost an entire book around the puking, the dishes, one load of laundry and nursing a baby who was more content than usual. I wonder what it says that the day was so tame while Little B was sick? Hmm... Of course, by the end of the day, he was a busy boy since he felt well and I was busy with dinner prep, but still.

Then my husband came home. . .

(...to be continued...)

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