And Now the Rest of the Story-Eddie's Birth

It was January 6th, 2004 and I was officially 2 days overdue. Other than having spent our entire dinner at Applebee’s the night before in the bathroom, I was feeling pretty good. I had a routine doctor’s appointment to discuss exactly how long they were going to let me be overdue before they induced. My appointment was around 11am so Ed and I had a quick breakfast at home and headed over there.

At my OBGYN office, anytime you are seeing the doctor over the midwife, there is a wait. We waited nearly two hours before we saw her. She asked a lot of questions about how I was feeling before she even checked me. When she did check me, she looked up in amazement and asked if I was sure that I wasn’t having contractions. I told her that I didn’t think so, and she said “well you’re 5cm!!” She decided to do an ultrasound to see what was going on with the baby, and again there was a wild and surprised look on her face.

“This baby is at least 9 lbs.”, she said. “You need to go to the hospital!!”

She then gave me a 15 minute lecture about how my worst fear might come true; I may have to have a c-section. I felt all of the color drain from my face and I felt like I was going to throw up. When you’ve been told since you were 15 years old that you have “the perfect hips for birthing”, the thought of a C-section never comes in to play. For my entire pregnancy, I never even considered that I would have a c-section. Much like the day that I was told I was going to have a baby, I was in shock. I walked out of the doctor’s office barely hearing her call after me “Make sure you don’t eat anything in case we do the c- section! Have them call me when you get to the hospital!”

As soon as we got in the car, I lost it. I sobbed hysterically. I couldn’t breath. I made Ed call Marisa at work to tell her everything, and then I got on the phone and blubbered to her. I know that I called my parents, but I can’t remember speaking to either of them. I was sure that I was having a nervous breakdown. I had just about calmed down when we got home, but as soon as we got in the house and started getting my stuff together, I was hysterical again. I went in the bathroom to compose myself, and Ed took this wonderful picture of me:




We left the house around 3:00PM and had to run a few errands, stop at the bank, etc. It was going on 6 hours since I had eaten and Ed was hungry too. He grabbed some food and we were at the hospital by about 5:30 PM.

As soon as we were checking in, they got me hooked up to the pitocin, which immediately gave me intense contractions. It was about 2 hours before I was in tears and needed the epidural, the greatest invention I know of. Marisa and George, my parents and Ed’s mother were in and out of the room. Marisa had to work the next day, so when things weren’t happening, they left around 10PM. Very soon after that it was time to push. I can’t remember anything that happened during the pushing phase other than telling Ed that if he put one more FUCKING ice chip in my mouth, I would strangle him. I pushed until about midnight before I overheard the doctor saying she wouldn’t let me push much longer. I had a renewed strength at that point because there was no way I was going through all of this crap just to be cut open, and started pushing like a crazy person after that. The problem: Eddie was posterior or sunny side up. After another 2 hours, his head was nearly out but we needed some help. (Apparently, all of the tearing didn’t help at all) Ed describes my episiotomy with great detail. “They both had a pair of scissors in each hand! They snipped you everywhere!” They ended up using the vacuum and finally, after 4 hours of pushing, I had my baby boy!

Edmund Mason, Jr. was born at 2:13 AM January 7, 2004. He weighed 10lbs 2oz and was 23 inches long. We couldn’t believe how much he looked exactly like his daddy.






I had never been happier. Ed held him while I was being stitched up and then the neonatal doctor took him to be checked out because of his size. His blood sugar was a bit low, so they took him upstairs and gave him some sugar water in a bottle. By the time I was in my room and slept for about 30 minutes, he was ok, and ready to nurse.

Now everything that I ever read said that babies are not hungry at birth; it takes them a few days to have that kick in. Eddie was ravenous when he was born. He nursed every 2 hours like clockwork the entire time we were in the hospital. So I would nurse for an hour, sleep for an hour nurse again…and so on. I couldn’t believe what I had signed on for.

Our second night in the hospital was the worst. First of all, I was more sore, and sore in the oddest places, than I had ever been in my entire life. Then I was more exhausted than I had ever been, and in the middle of the night, my 1-day-old baby forgot how to nurse. I couldn’t get him to latch on, he was screaming, and I was crying hysterically. I called the nursery and sobbed/screamed in to the phone that someone needed to come and help me. I think they thought I hurt the baby because they were down there so fast. And there I was, half naked on the bed, trying to get him to take a boob, just defeated. And you know what? The nurses acted like I was normal; like it was no big deal. They brought in some sugar water and helped me get him going. The whole nursing thing went reasonable well after that.

I loved staying in the hospital. We had tons of visitors, and Eddie was a hit. I had my fill of hospital food (which I love because I’m a F R E A K) and also my gourmet dinner. The nurses in the nursery loved him, and my favorite one, an older Indian woman, showed him off to all of the girl babies and thought about which one would be his girlfriend. (She kissed him on the head on her last shift before we left and whispered “I will see you back in a year or so with a baby sister” which is just way too weird) Nurses and doctors from all over the hospital came to meet me because I was the girl that pushed out the 10 lb posterior baby. In fact, on our way out to go home, our delivery room nurse introduced me to the patient she was walking out as “the girl I told you about, with the 10 lb baby.”

And home we went to start our life as a family. Having a baby was the best thing I ever did, and I had never felt more fulfilled as a person than when I became a mother. All of the misery of pregnancy and the horrendous delivery were worth it; worth it enough to do it again……and maybe even again some day.

Eddie's Birth Story- My Pregnancy

My pregnancy, at the beginning anyway, was horrendous.

First there was the constant nausea. I never once threw up, I just always felt like I was going to. I kept food on my night stand and just did the best I could. I couldn’t stand to drink or smell coffee which was a feeling so foreign that I can’t even describe it.

After the nausea came the bleeding. Incessant bleeding. Nothing was ever wrong, it just turned out that I had “a very vascular cervix” but to be safe, relations were suspended by my doctor until after the 1st trimester.

And after those two things came the worry; the ever-present worry. I had read so much about things going wrong for someone with my particular thyroid condition. I was so nervous about losing the baby, so nervous that it would be gone forever, I just counted the days until my 1st trimester was over.

The most defining moment in my pregnancy was having a cautious ultra-sound when I was 7 weeks along, during the bleeding. There was the baby, a teeny tiny bean in there with a heartbeat. A HEARTBEAT!! When I was 7 weeks…which is really only 3 weeks after my missed period-I was in complete wonder at the evidence of life in me so early on. 7 weeks.

When the 2nd trimester began, so did the cravings. I did not crave a single thing that was good for me. I was on a Twinkie binge for nearly a month (to the point where my boss was smuggling in Twinkies to work because Ed forbade me to eat them), and with the exception of having to have orange juice with my breakfast, I drank root beer, Mug Root Beer to be exact, morning, noon and night. I could not eat tomatoes in any form and thinking about baked macaroni and cheese with breadcrumbs on it made me sick. I craved favorite foods from my childhood: creamed cucumbers, peanut butter cookies, and my aunt’s deviled potato salad. Later on, it was breaded pork chops. We ate them for a week straight before Ed said anything.

I was huge and in full maternity clothes by the time I was 4 months pregnant.

At my 20 week appointment I was ecstatic to find out that we were having a boy. I sobbed in the ultrasound room and Ed was sure it was because I wanted to have a girl, but really, it just made it so much more real. A boy, and he would be Edmund Mason Jr.

Of course, we registered immediately and my mother and aunt began planning my baby shower. I had never been so excited in my life. All the clothes and toys and blankets. Who knew that there was even so much out there for babies? I felt like an idiot, let me tell you.

Here is me at 7 months:





And here is me at my baby shower, with my mother.





I had planned on working right up until my due date because I had just been promoted, but just before Thanksgiving I started having contractions. Ed and I went to the hospital, and I was in labor, 6 weeks early. I was re-hydrated and given something to stop the contractions and sent home. I worked for just about another week before I was pulled indefinitely. This was actually pretty cool because I got Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years off. I felt fine, other than the heartburn that had me sleeping upright in our recliner, and we took the time to put things together and set up Eddie’s room.

Christmas came and everyone marveled at my huge belly and we all laughed at how I balanced my dinner plate and pop can on it for the duration of our meal.

It was perfectly relaxing, and a wonderful experience to have no obligations, and just be able to enjoy the last weeks of my pregnancy at home, just getting ready for this life changing event.

Preface to Eddie's Birth

I was 24 years old, and for at least 3 years I had wanted to have a baby. When Ed and I were married in September 2002 the instinct went in to overdrive. It was all I talked about, every single day. I had stopped taking the pill the day after our wedding, and had become proficient in tracking my cycle. Ed was uncomfortable with the thought of a baby, and barely even entertained the subject.

Ed and I arrived home around the same time one day in April 2003…ok, it was April 16th to be exact. He told me that he had been giving it a lot of thought and that he wanted to have a baby with me. I’m not going to give you the gory details; we all know how babies are made. I knew I was ovulating at the time and I called Ed on it. (It was very weird for me, because we had been “doing it” while I was ovulating for 6 months and I was always nervous that I’d be pregnant and he’d be disappointed. In a crazy kind of way, I feel like since Ed finally wanted it, that I allowed myself to get pregnant that night.)

After a few weeks, I started having horrendous cramps that Midol wouldn’t even touch. I was sure that I was getting my period. I went to my primary doctor for a check-up and mentioned to the nurse practitioner that I was one day late for my period. She asked if I was usually regular, and I was extremely regular at the time. She thought that it wouldn’t hurt to do a pregnancy test, so I did. She told me I’d have to wait about 10 minutes for the results, but burst in to the examining room after about 3 minutes and congratulated me on being pregnant. (It turned out that the cramping was implantation)

I was in shock. I don’t think I even moved when she told me. I didn’t laugh or cry. I stood up, my legs like jelly, and walked out to my car in a complete daze. All I could think about was how I would ever make it back to work and function for the rest of the day; how would I tell Ed without anyone hearing me? For whatever reason, I didn’t have my cell phone that day, so I stopped and tried to call him from a payphone. No answer. I tried again and still no answer. I drove reluctantly back to work.

I eventually reached him from work and told him the news in whispers. He was hard to read. (I later found out that he thought I said the dr. said I might be pregnant) He had a lot of questions that I really couldn’t answer because my job at the bank at that time had me in an environment where I was surrounded by people. I didn’t go right home from work that night as I was taking classes. I bombed an important math test and was finally home about 9:00 PM.

When Ed fully understood, he was thrilled. We talked for a long time, both of us scared, and excited.

We were going to be parents.

I’ve been reading a lot of birth stories lately, and I’ve been wanting to document mine for quite some time, you know, before they’re too far gone from my memory, so that is my next project. I’m going to start with my darling Eddie and Do Caitlyn in the next few weeks as we approach her (gulp) second birthday.

A Photo Entry

Here's what happens when you let your almost-2-year-old have access to your cupboards:



Potatoes in your bed

These are the glorious cookies I made using Sarah's recipe:



This is the cutest girl in the world...



One of my new favorite photos, Eddie and Grandpa at the creek



Paris Hilton in training:



Caitlyn the monkey at the brown park:






Eddie on the ladder:



And going down the HUUUUGE twisty slide at the brown park for the 1st time




One more at the creek:




And finally, the giant coffee mug Ed bought me at Cedar Point next to my regular favorite mug for emphasis:

K E T C H U P

I remember singing a song in grade school, something along the lines of

“Ketchup is good on most anything! Hot Dogs! Hamburger! Onion Rings!”

I thought about it the other day as I made some wonderfully tender, flavorful breaded turkey cutlets for dinner. They were quite amazing, if I do say so myself. Naturally, I took offense when Ed put ketchup on them. KETCHUP! ON TURKEY!

He said to me at one point during dinner

“The ketchup tastes kind of weird….”

I didn’t even look up from my plate, but replied quite snarkily

“Perhaps it’s because you’re dipping TURKEY in it.”

I was livid, and so offended, and so……like my mother……in that moment.

But seriously, what in the hell would possess you to slather ketchup all over your perfectly good dinner? To be honest with you, I find it to be quite rude.

I blame his mother, who coats my perfect pork chops in the stuff. I know, right!! MY PORK CHOPS! They taste like heaven!

His mother who upon dishing herself a plate of my cheesy Italian goulash this past Saturday, immediately went to the fridge and squeezed ketchup all over it.

I threw her out of my house.

OK, not really, but I sure felt like it.

And what happened when I politely informed her that there was already ketchup in the goulash?

She giggled and took her seat.

Another Non-Post

1. It is 49 days until I am on vacation, and 52 days until I will be in The White Mountains of New Hampshire in a VERY well appointed hotel room for very little money ($89/night) due to it being EXACTLY one week before their peak fall foliage season begins.

2. And in 55 days we will be in Portland, Maine where I will consume lobster for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert (where available). We will spend time in another beautiful hotel for $55 a night because our good friend Melissa is the General Manger there….ooooh yeah.

3. My 5 year wedding anniversary is also in 55 days. Do you think that vacation is enough of a gift to each other? Or should I be considering a gift for Ed?

4. It’s going to be a beautiful, sunny weekend. We’re looking for something fun to do on Saturday. I’d like to go to the Toronto Zoo, but I don’t know if we feel like driving 1.5 hours. Ed has to work on Sunday, but the kids and I are going to Canal Fest (celebrate the Erie Canal!! WOOT!! WOOT!!) with my parents. [there’s actually a really cool craft show and festival]

5. Ed spent the day with my brother and some friends at Cedar Point yesterday. He was the only husband to bring a gift back for his wife (a huuuuuge coffee mug) . He also called me from the spot where he proposed and told me how much he missed me, and that it wasn’t the same without me. Brownie points for him.

6. He bought the kids hats too.

7. This girl at work constantly starts her sentences with “As well”. For example, “As well, we will be moving to a new format next week.” She drives me insane

8. Another girl constantly asks me, when I’m by myself, “How we doing?” I answer her with a smart-assed “We’re doing great, how are you guys” every single time and she just doesn’t get it.

I started this post earlier and hated how it sounded. Here is the revised version.

Ed and I discussed the possibility of having more children last week.

I’ve always wanted 4. My mind has pretty much been made up since I was, like, 12. Ed isn’t opposed to actually having 4 children, but rather, the idea of having 4 children; the looks and the comments and the general stigma that seems to be cast upon people, in this day in age, who have more than 2 children. You know, the “what the hell is the matter with you” stigma.

It was just a quick conversation, nothing controversial, but it really got me thinking.

It has to be biology at work because although the logistics of having a third child right now would be ridiculous, when I even think about it for a second, I have an overwhelming desire to have another baby. I’m stressed to the limit with Eddie and Caitlyn being toddlers on their own, and outside of it all, introducing a newborn would be complete insanity. Then there’s the money……I pay $352 a week for daycare. We would need to make major life changes in order to add a third right now that would come down to one of us quitting our job and losing either money or health insurance. It’s not the right time at all, but the desire sure burns.

In the end, we decided to try for # 3 once Eddie is done with daycare, and we would like to get him in to public school when he is 4 (almost 5) instead of waiting until he is 5 (almost 6). I don’t want to be pregnant on my 30th birthday either, or nursing for that matter, because I am not the “pump and dump” kind of girl.

In the end this boils down to about a year or so of waiting. And if #4 comes after that, so be it.

As much as it is “the right” thing to do, I just don’t want to wait.

Sigh.

Questions, Questions

1. I need a good eye cream. The bags and circles under my eyes are unbearable. Does anyone have any suggestions? I’d like to look so young and vibrant that people would think I was the baby sitter rather than the tired, tired mommy.

2. As far as skin goes in general, mine really sucks right now. My complexion has gone down the toilet since I had Cait, and more so since I went off the pill. While the acne is a small price to pay for the absence of migraines and severe hormonal fluctuation and actually having a sex life (I often joked that the pill didn’t work by stopping me from ovulating, it just plain turned me off to doing it..), something really needs to be done here. I tried Proactiv, no go. I’ve been using this antibacterial face bar and that’s not working either. Has anyone found the secret to a beautiful complexion? This week I’m trying the “chocolate gives you zits” theory and I’m not eating any. Which sucks. And it’s only 2:00 PM on Monday. Please, tell me what to do oh wise women of the blogosphere.

3. I also need a diet that works if you have one. I can’t stomach (haha pun absolutely intended) the feeling of being hungry. I hate not eating bread. I hate limiting myself in general. I considered for a brief second trying that new Alli supplement….that is until I read that if you should by some chance over indulge in fatty foods, an oily substance will leak out of your A-hole. I even told myself that the prospect of a greasy rectum would be enough of a deterrent to not eat any fat at all. Then I took a long hard look at myself (that means I thought about my impulsive personality for about 2 seconds) and decided that unless I was committed to ruining pants and unders because they most definitely would have grease stains, this was probably not a good idea. (BUT IT’S FDA APPROVED!!!) So anyway, if anyone has a plan that meets the criteria of being able to consume bread, never being hungry, and few limits in general, plus the absence of oily anus, I would sure love to hear about it.

**On a side note, I was quite proud of myself for only having a salad for lunch, with grilled chicken as opposed to crispy chicken. That is until I discovered that the dressing alone had 200 calories in it. Why can’t everything just be easy?!?!?! (ok, I just checked and the salad itself was 90 calories and the chicken was 120, so a 440 calorie lunch…not too bad I guess. All I had for breakfast was reduced sugar oatmeal and black coffee—90 calories)


4. I need to know why my button and zipper on these capris is on the wrong side. Like, the button is on the left. I posed this question to my co-workers. Someone thought that maybe they were actually MAN-pris, or capris for men, but I assured her they were women’s. Then I was asked if maybe I bought them in Canada…apparently Canada has some backward zipper policy that I am unaware of. In any case, I didn’t cross the border to get some capris. I bought them right here, at JC Penny in the “misses” section.

5. Why oh why oh why do men insist on showing their feet off in their “mandals”. I hate feet in general, but man feet are the worst. I beg all men to please keep their feet sheathed in their socks.

Girls on Motorcycles

I remember taking a sociology class in college where it was stated that children are not predisposed to act a certain way based on their gender, but actually are molded to act like boys and girls by their parents pushing stereotypical gender based toys/clothes/shows (etc.) at them. Even back then, before having kids, I disagreed. I argued that a person is set up to be who they are regardless of gender and regardless of being given trucks or dolls to play with.

As a child, I had dolls and your basic girly toys, but I found them to be quite boring. Friends would often get upset with me because I would be all about setting up the Barbie house and furniture and arranging it just right, but I had no actual interest in playing Barbie’s. I hated dressing them up and making them talk or go out or whatever. How freaking lame, right? I didn’t want to play in a toy kitchen or use a fake vacuum (are you insane?). I liked playing make believe; I would pretend that I was camping with my stuffed animals, or that I was in a singing competition. Even at a young age I would just hang out and listen to music. I would have much rather played by myself than with a group of kids any day, and I was lucky to have a brother who was the same as me; content to chill or be by himself.

And guess what? I turned out ok! I’m not some kind of psychopath loner; I’m actually a good mom!

I admit that I put Caitlyn in dresses quite a bit, and dress her in pink and purple 98% of the time. I’ve bought her dolls and put her hair in pig tails. I’ve set her up to be the biggest princess there ever was. Despite what I have done, Caitlyn prefers to be dirty. She prefers Diego over Dora. She loves to dig and steal her brother’s trucks. She is loud and extremely outspoken (even at age 2). Regardless of what I dress her in, she always grabs her baseball cap and puts it on backwards. She also sets her stuffed animals around our table and feeds them and brings them milk. She wraps her babies in her blanket and lies them down and runs their backs. She pretends to cook in her little kitchen. I know that I’m doing something right with her because she feels free to be an individual and do her own thing, but she also has the desire to mimic me, and be a little mommy.

It’s hard to put Eddie’s personality in print. While he does all the things a typical boy is “supposed” to do (which include being dirty, loud, and maniacal at times) he is a truly sensitive soul. He’s 3 ½ now and still wants to curl up on my lap and twirl my hair. He likes to sit and have a conversation with you, and talk about his feelings. He carries a pink Dora backpack to school every day and doesn’t care. He sings and dances and loves to watch anything with music on TV. When they play dress up at school, the first thing he goes for is a denim skirt. And you know what? He plays trucks, pretends he is a monster, wrestles and loves to watch NASCAR with his dad. He likes nothing better than watching bulldozers do work.

I went outside last night to see what he and Grandpa were up to and he ran up to me and gave me a huge hug and a great big smile.

“I want to be just like you, Mommy” he says

“Me? How come?” (I think he’s about to tell me that I’m great)

“I want to wear dresses and be a girl.”

“You do?”

“Oh yeah, I want to wear dresses”

“Well, you’re already a boy and boys don’t really wear dresses.”

“Ok Mommy.”

He thinks for a minute.

“Well, can girls ride motorcycles?”

Ugh. Yesterday.

I felt like such a bad Mom.

I swear to you I yelled all day at those kids. Screamed. Me. At them.

It was a bad, bad day.

At bed time, after numerous “time outs” Eddie and I were having a talk; I was sitting in his bed and we discussed why he should listen to me when I tell him to do something once. (like not to jump over the back of the love seat, roll on to the cushions and then on to the floor) I made a mistake and told him that he was acting like “bad Anthony”, a boy from his class. I had to apologize and tell him that it wasn’t a nice thing to say, not because Anthony isn’t bad (because he is hell on wheels) but because Anthony has a bad life with no daddy around and a Mommy who works a whole lot. I told him he was a good boy and that we’d had a hard day.

He looked me in the eyes, serious as anything.

“I know I’m good mommy. I try to teach Anthony how to be good. And I am really sick of you hollering all the time.”

Me too.

I didn’t sleep and cried most of the night.

My biggest fear is fucking my kids up.

Or that they’ll hate me when they are grown and look back.

I’m at a loss as to what to do; how to balance it all.

Both kids were sweet as pie this morning, but for me, it has been a very depressing day.

I was laughing to myself (as I often do) the other day because Caitlyn has this adorable shirt that says "everyone loves a blue eyed girl" and her eyes are so not blue anymore. Isn't it weird? They are the most lovely shade of hazel that I have ever seen, grey and green with flecks of golden-brown. I was commenting to Ed yesterday that even when she wears blue, her eyes don't reflect it anymore. Then I downloaded this picture: (**edited to say [was I smoking crack? He eyes don't look blue at all.) Go ahead, enlarge the pictures. Hazel indeed.]



And this one too:




Where they look SO blue. You will also notice my newly laid kitchen floor, but please try not to notice the pieces of cat food strewn about.


We went to a wedding for Ed's cousin Karen yesterday and while I didn't take any pictures of the bride and groom, I did get 2 new pictures of my adorable niece Samantha who is nearly 3 months old. She has 2 idiots for parents, but she sure is a cute pumpkin.






We had a really nice day at the park (where the wedding was) and will probably book Cait's birthday party there as well. It was a really nice site.

I actually came up here to check my bank account to be sure that I can grocery shop, so I'm going to do that. I hear the kids waking up from their naps.....

8 Things You Previously Didn't Know About Me

Ok, so The Flying Mum has tagged me for this 8 things meme. How ever did she know that I wanted to share 8 more things in addition to my 100? The rules are below, but I am not tagging anyone because for one, she tagged all those that I would have tagged, and two, I think the entire blogosphere has done this one now. But for the sake of rules, here they are, lifted from The Flying Mum who stole them from Beck.

A. Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves.

B. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed.

C. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

1. My most favorite food in all the world is Salmon. I could eat it every day in any fashion.

2. I am so excited about my vacation in September that I can hardly sleep at night. First off, I am off of work for 11 days in a row, but also, I just love New England. I have been reliving New Hampshire through our honeymoon pictures. My "new" profile pic is 5 years old, from our honeymoon.

3. Speaking of vacation, I would like to lose 20 lbs. before we go. (I would like to lose about 80 lbs. overall)

4. When I went to Ed's prom in 1995, my dress was a size 3.

5. I love to be in a swimming pool, but I am a horrible swimmer.

7. I never thought I would become so attached to this blog.

8. As much as I hate it that I need to wear glasses now, I think I look kind of cool with them on. Also, I left them downstairs, and I can barely see what I'm typing.

The 4th

It was rainy and horrible here on the 4th, so thank God we had the sense to check the weather and find fireworks on the 3rd. We picked a good show (despite being kind of in the ghetto) and we were pleased that Eddie wasn't terrified this year. Caitlyn, though not hysterical, was not thrilled with all of the noise.





We spent the 4th setting up our fish tank and getting the fish accustomed to their new home. We got 7 fish, 2 for Caitlyn and 5 for Eddie. Caitlyn named hers One and Two and Eddie named 3 of his Santa, Grandpa and Daddy. That left the 2 black molly fish to be named, so we called them Sheeba, after our dead dog, and Molly for obvious reasons.

I was off of work yesterday and I took the kids to daycare and came home and slept until after noon. I can't eve remember the last time I slept so late. After lunch, I did some laundry and cleaned up a bit. I'm off again today, and Ed and I are going to The Cheesecake Factory for lunch after a while. I always get the same meal when we go, Herb Crusted Salmon with Asparagus and Smashed Potatoes, then I change up the cheesecake I order. Last time I got lemon raspberry which was to die for. The time before that, Tira Misu (I have no idea how to spell that). I'll keep you updated as to what I get today.

My first Children's Place order arrived yesterday, and the crabby shirt is all I wanted and more. One of the tanks I got for Eddie (I ordered him all XS-4 rather than 4T with the hope that he could wear them next year too) was super huge, but the other 2 will be perfect. The crinkle skirts for Caitlyn are supercute but to keep them crinkled, you have to twist them up, tie them in a not and rubber band them after you wash them...which is probably too much maintenance for me. I'm still waiting on my second order which includes some shorts and a hat for Eddie, then 2 more shirts ad shorts plus sunglasses for Cait. I'm getting nervous because the website doesn't show that it's shipped yet.

I need to end this because I left my glasses downstairs and I can't see anything. I'm thinking of getting a new cell phone today, but we'll see how that goes. I'm eligible for a free one, but don't want to sign a contract. I don't know.

Muffins

I was totally going to make Sarah'scookies tonight, but when I came home to 5 over-ripe bananas, I decided on muffins instead.

Yes, banana muffins it was.




They were good, too.

Rock City

Last night was such a gorgeous night; cool and clear with a perfect breeze. It reminded me so much of the mountain air when we were in New Hampshire for our honeymoon, that I was taken aback for a few minutes. My fondest memory of our time there was swimming in our resort’s glorious heated outdoor pool in the moonlight and the crisp mountain air. It was September and while during the day it was about 70 degrees, the evenings were in the upper 40s. The entire trip was amazing, but when I start thinking about it, the nights are the first thing to come to mind.

We’ll have been married for 5 years this coming September, and as it happens, we’ll be going back to The White Mountains of New Hampshire. I’m so excited about it that I can hardly contain myself. While our original plan was to go to Maine to visit our friend Melissa, we’ve slowly been migrating toward taking the kids to do the things we enjoyed when we were there. We may go to Maine for a day, but the deals in NH that time of year, 1 week before their peak fall foliage season begins are phenomenal. I don’t know how I’ll make it through the next 2 months because I seriously just want to go right now.

We happened to have an amazing time on Saturday. The rock formations were just gorgeous and it was a beautiful (if not a little bit cool) sunny day. The path was just a tiny bit treacherous, with some deep crevices and a few cliffs, but we kept a good hold of the kids, and they were just beside themselves with all of the rocks and caves…..and they had to sit on every bench we came across.








We ate our picnic lunch and went through the store before leaving, and then stopped in Ellicottville where they had a teeny tiny craft show on the way home. We ended up being home by about 3:30 and grilled some pork and were all in bed early which was so needed after the long day we had.








The day’s only downside was coming home to find that we had received a letter from our insurance company stating that they would not be covering Ed’s tonsillectomy because it was not deemed to be medically necessary. You know, like he just got up one day and said “I’d sure like t have my tonsils out. What the hell. This is the same insurance company who denied his going to an ambulatory care center when his tonsils had swelled so large that he couldn’t breathe. You know, it probably wasn’t important, and he probably didn’t need to have them out. All that I know is that this really sucks. We have to go through an appeal process and if they don’t pay it….I don’t know what we’ll do.

Anyhoo….

Ed got up early yesterday to go to work, and at about 5:30AM Eddie came to let me know that he’d peed in his bed. I changed him and he crawled in bed with me, and we slept in until 8:30!! It was great to sleep in, but ended up being just about the only great thing of the day. The kids were maniacs. I don’t know what got in to them. They were just absolutely crazy, I took them for haircuts, we went to the grocery store, and I don’t even know…they were just very high maintenance. And my saint of a husband, upon coming home and seeing me frazzled, sent me to Starbucks to catch a few minutes by myself. Wonderful man. (The catch was that I had to stop and by a thermometer for our fridge, which was still acting up but I didn’t really care. Incidentally, our freezer was at 28 degrees, not nearly cold enough, and the fridge was at 55 degrees…..so we ended up putting what we could in a cooler and the rest in the fridge in the garage and completely defrosting the whole thing. As of this morning it was working great, fridge at 40 degrees and freezer at -10 degrees. Oh, and by the way [#2] you know how I was paranoid about the downstairs freezer…..it ended up being open when I went down there yesterday. Can you even believe it!! All of my freaking out wasn’t for nothing!!)

Ed’s dad ended up taking the kids out for a while last night too, so I was able to straighten up and cook dinner in peace. I normally make my own garlic bread, but I happened to buy Pepperidge Farm’s roasted garlic premium garlic bread and let me tell you it was TO.DIE.FOR. Yummy Yummy.

This has become an extraordinarily long entry, so I’ll end here. Work is super busy and even though I haven’t officially taken a lunch break there is much to be done.

~Sigh~