Norah and Jacob are both sick today, with some sort of stomach bug. No fever, nothing major, just the occasional vomit all over my living room. I actually sent Jake to school this morning, since he said he felt fine, but then he threw up in the cafeteria and so was sent home. Evidently the nurse asked him why he threw up, and he told her, "because my mouth felt like it". I guess you can't argue with that! And poor Norah has just been puking all morning. My kids really haven't thrown up that many times in life, being relatively healthy, and I of course have Herbert the Hoover on my side for upholstery and carpet cleanup, so I'm just taking it in stride and waiting for the worst to be over so I can bust him out and steam clean my living room. In the meantime, it smells like puke and Yankee Candles in there so I'm hiding in the office :)
Ho hum, what to write about today... I have all these thoughts that I'd like to pursue, but I tend to think of them when I am not near the computer. Mostly while I'm driving, really. And then I get home, ready to jot down whatever deep thought or complaint or funny anecdote I came up with in the car, and I'm usually confronted by at least seventeen other things/disasters the minute I walk in the door and forget all about it.
Wyatt is making spectacular advances these days. Just a few weeks ago, he was starting to roll back and forth, but not really getting anywhere. Now, he's turbo rolling all over the place, scooting around on his tummy, and even getting up on his hands and knees. Plus, yesterday I found two little teeth on the bottom. True to Beattie kid form, they appear to be crooked. It's like he's growing up, even after I told him not to! Every time I have to go through his clothes, change diaper sizes, put away some piece of baby junk that he's no longer using, I get these twinges. I can't bear to think of putting these away for the last time. I try not to think of it that way, since it just makes me depressed. But isn't four kids enough? I am pretty sure it's enough. I can't think about it. Depressing.
I've reached day 11 of my one-serving-per-meal weight management plan. So far, I have gone from 144 to 141.5. It's not really encouraging, since without doing anything special at all my weight tends to fluctuate between 139-145. My friend Vikki told me I should absolutely not be complaining about 144, because it's not fat. While I am not morbidly obese or anything, I do have a smaller frame and anything over about 130 brings on a rather muffin-top-ish effect. At 144 I'm shaped like your grandma and this morning couldn't get my leg into a pair of size 10 pants. Besides, if I can be 39 weeks pregnant with an 8 pound baby and weigh 162, then a mere twenty pounds lighter is not terribly impressive to me.
I hear whining... is Nonah going to puke again? Pardon me momentarily...(15 minutes elapses)
Yep, that was a puke. She consistently manages to throw up everywhere except the bowl in front of her, which is inconvenient at best.
I guess I should go clean up the house, so that when I do get around to hauling out the carpet cleaner, everything is picked up and put away. Also, there is a growing pile of puke towels waiting for the washer (which is currently full of puke towels). Oh, joy. To think, I went to college and everything.
Oh, speaking of which, I may have a new opportunity to do some freelance editing. I no longer work for Heritage, which was such a great opportunity and gave me some amazing writing experience (but fell by the wayside after Wyatt was born and I just never regained the time/initiative). But this is just for one person on an as-needed basis, with the possibility of being recommended to others in her field. And it's editing, not writing, which means it would take less time. I'm looking forward to seeing what might come of it. It's such an easy job for me, but the hard part is always getting my foot in the door and so I feel like I shouldn't pass up any opportunity that comes my way.
Ok, I really am going to return to reality and the general wreckage that is my house. I like to reward myself, so if I can get it all cleaned up then I will watch Robin Hood, which is a BBC series I found on Netflix that is quite entertaining. And if I can't... enh, I'll probably still watch it, who am I kidding?
1 comments:
Done at 4, huh? I'll admit that I'm surprised, but that does sound like a good number.
If you bought Grandma pants, I bet your Grandma shape would be more like a sz. 4. Those junior dept. flares are sized so tiny. At least that's what I tell myself. :)
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