I can tell I'm not firing on all....eight? is it "eight"? cylinders.....is it "cylinders?" Hey, what's that expression I'm looking for that means I'm not exactly running at full mental capacity? This afternoon I was hungry, and I had a nice heaping bowl of vanilla ice cream with Keebler "Bug Bites" (glazed cinnamon graham crackers in appetizing insect shapes) broken into it--and then I suddenly realized I never had lunch. I got all distracted, I guess, and then when I was hungry I looked at the clock and thought "Snack time!" It was convenient that I didn't realize this until after the ice cream was down the hatch, wasn't it?
Whatever Paul has, they gave him an antibiotic for it, so I'm glad he stayed home, and I told him so in a grudging tone of voice. I do wish he'd found out some of the little details such as what he has and whether it's safe to be near a newborn with it, but he's got a call in to the nurse now because of what I can only assume was intense pressure from me--all I remember is all the light leaving the room and there was a voice like thunder, and then suddenly he was making the call and also hiding behind the microwave cart.
Around lunchtime, Edward's cough got worse and he was digging at both ears, and Elizabeth started coughing the way Edward was yesterday. I was reluctant to go back to the pediatrician after yesterday's "Whooping cough? Pfff. This isn't even a cold" session with Robert, but I thought, what if we get up tomorrow and he's even sicker? So I just took them both in, and they both have colds. Well, it was worth two co-pays to be able to tell the disapproving maternity nurses that what our children are hacking all over the brand-new baby is only cold germs and not plague.
Now, let's see, when will I be back again to tell you about the baby? It seems to me like it will be a million years from now, on the other side of an unfamiliar galaxy, and yet if everything goes as expected I should be back home on Sunday afternoon. I've scheduled a session of "weeping with homesickness for my quiet, immaculate, food-serviced hospital room" for right after I get home, but after that I should be free. Er, assuming I work up the nerve to ask Paul if he can watch all five kids so I can go blog. Maybe we should plan to meet up Sunday evening, after (four of) the kids are in bed.
Hey, that's a good thing to think of. As soon as I thought of Sunday evening, I started thinking of a sweet little BABY and how much fun it would be to post his beautiful-in-a-mother's-eyes-if-not-technically-in-anyone-else's photo--as opposed to what I've been thinking of most of the day, which is having a tube put into my spine, and the way they always call in these offensively burly guys to lift me from one table to another, and the way the nurse asks Personal Bathroom Questions in front of Paul. Our Sunday night arrangement is way better to think of.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...