Just Another Day

All the cute little noises that newborns make. She snorts, snuffles, meeps, and does all sorts of auditory gymnastics. She makes me feel all melty, for sure. And I have to say that Mr. P is a truly devoted big brother, who insisted that we not give her her first bath (the real one in the tub vs. sponge, that is) until he got home from school. It is a lovely and wonderful thing to see how much he cares about her, even as she is this sort of blobby thing that can barely move her own head. Did I mention that Mr. P has switched classrooms? It seems they felt he was a bit unchallenged in his former class, and he was moved into a 1-2 combo class where they seem to do a lot more independent work, as well as move faster along in the curriculum, as they are all high achievers. So, we will see if Mr. P can step up to the plate, or if he will resent having to actually work rather than coast. Also, there is an issue on the playground with a 3rd grader, one who has pushed Mr. P and other kids,...

Just a quick update for y'all. Our daughter was born healthy (7lbs 6 oz) and beautiful at 9:33 am on Thursday Nov. 5, a day that will live in the annals of Caesarian section history. I say that because the anesthesiologist himself told me that I set some sort of world record for vomiting during the entire procedure. Fun times. If you want to know the name we picked out, email me and I'll tell you. Think, uh, designer clothing label. Or a famous actress. But, it truly is the beginning of fun times. She is such a joy, such a good, good baby. Which I really think I deserved because I endured such hell with Mr. P. So, I am not too sleep deprived, Mr. P is a fantastic big brother, and all is good in my world right now. Thanks, Universe, for listening.

And I'm thinking I'm supposed to be happy about it. We got exactly the price we wanted and exactly the terms we wanted. Because if we hadn't we wouldn't have accepted the offer because you know, we've got a bit much going on over what with the imminent birth of Ms. P, which is short for Ms. Princess. Anyhoo. I'm actually pretty stressed out because it means we will have to find somewhere else to live by January 10. Ouch. Whether that is something we buy or rent remains to be seen. But just the thought of trying to look for a house with a newborn seems daunting. And I've already had lots of daunting things to overcome lately, and I'm just tired of overcoming things, you know? I just want to have everything handed to me on a silver platter, with absolutely no effort on my part. Universe, are you listening?

All right, so I didn't get checked in to the hospital the other day, so give a big sigh of relief with me. But, I escaped from the hospital in order to have THIS happen to me: Our house is up for sale. We have, like 99% of people who have their house on sale, a lock box on our gate. Lately, asswipe realtors have been showing up at our door without calling first, which is specified in the listing that all realtors have access to. Some beeyotch showed up without warning and wanted to show my home in 10 minutes. I kept having a bad feeling about something. I didn't know what, but it was definitely realtor related. So I was taking a shower, like 99% of all people. I had brought the phone in the bathroom with me, because I was paranoid about missing a call from what I will now term "goddamn realtors." I open the bathroom door when I am done, only to hear a male voice calling out, "Hellooo!" I screech and go "Oh my god, who ARE you?" Male voice, "...

Well, last night my defective gallbladder started to act up again, and I tried to ignore it as best as I could. Because the last thing I want to do is go back to the damn hospital. But. Then I did some resarch, and all of it said in big or italicized letters " You need to get medical attention " or " ignore the pain at your own peril " and that type of crap. So I'm about to leave to labor and delivery where they will take samples of various bodily fluids and poke me and prod me like a cow. Fantastic. Let's hope I'm back home by later this afternoon, shall we?

My family and I were lucky enough to be invited guests to Mickey's Trick-or-Treat Party being held on select nights this October at California Adventure. We visited on October 2, and luckily, it wasn't too crowded and the weather was just right. My son, dressed in his "most intimidating knight costume we were able to find on the internet" was of course, extremely excited to be there. When we entered the park, we were handed some trick-or-treat bags and right away, Disney gets you into the ahem, spirit of things. The giant sun wheel above the fountain had cool light projections on it, and it presided over a fun, DJ'd dance party. Also entertaining were the whirling projections being cast on the ground, which all the kids were either sort of freaked out by, or jumping on. There wasn't really a whole lot of in-between. Treat stations were set up all over the park, and the lines for some were quite long, but the staff tried their best to keep the times down. ...

I just looked at the last post I wrote, and shook my head sadly. I've never gone that long without a post here, and I really can't explain what took me so long to come back. Could it be I have other blog obligations? Could it be that I was literally sick for two months? Or that a (hitherto unknown to me) gallstone attack put me in the hospital for four days, and almost triggered preterm labor at 30 weeks? Could it be that I have a busy 1st grader and am tired and exhausted in my last trimester? Could it be that I am just damn lazy? Probably a combination of all five, my friends. The less said about the hospital stay, the better. I've never been in the hospital for that long, and I never want to be in there for that long again. I learned two things: 1)Taking a shower with an IV hooked up to you is a pain in the ass. 2) Even if your nurse is a crazy right-wing nut, DON'T DISAGREE WITH HER AND PISS HER OFF. Of course I wasn't stupid enough to piss her off, but a per...