28 weeks along with what I'm sure, will be the sweetest boy I've ever met.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
This past week has been nuts. Nuts, I tell ya.
Jason and I have both been meeting ourselves coming and going over the past couple of weeks. Come Saturday, he will have worked 21 days straight. No breaks. No rest. Not one day off. And when he gets home from a stressful and busy day, he helps me endlessly with the girls.
I have been busy with work and the girls and keeping up with what feels like all of our crazy schedules.
Stella has been sick with a cough, a fever and she developed a nasty rash all over her legs and arms. This was due to a switch in laundry detergent that I'm convincing myself someone else forced me to buy at gunpoint. Needless to say, the girl has not been getting a lot of sleep, which translates into none of us getting a lot of sleep.
Free and clear for the rest of our lives.
Friday the girls were in our friends' wedding...it was so beautiful, the bride was gorgeous and the girls did a great job.
Chloe was the epitome of a flower a girl. She was 100% committed and played the part perfectly. She kept saying, "I can't wait to go get married!!!!" Her daddy wasn't so happy about that comment. I pointed out that I was okay with it because at least she wasn't telling people she was going to marry her sister. This has been her ongoing dialogue for the past couple of weeks. Weird.
Stella was her normal spit-fire, full-of-life self and did a really, really great job. She ripped the bow out of her head right before she walked, no ran, down the aisle, but she sure was cute. The manner in which she ran down the aisle reminded me of the time last week she streaked through the Y in nothing but a diaper and pair of sandals. Quite possibly the most embarrassing and funniest moment of my life.
Then we move to Saturday. Thought Stella was on the up and up with being sick and right before Jason and I went to bed I said, "I think we'll actually get a really good night's sleep tonight."
Kiss of death. Don't ever say those words.
Stella was coughing up a storm and Chloe started running a fever.
To add injury to insult, Chloe cut her eyeball on her dad's leg hair when he was picking the feverish kid up out of bed in the middle of the night.
Let me repeat. She cut her eye on his leg hair. I am just so thankful it wasn't mine.
An early morning call to the doctor's office turned into a run to the ER. The girl has a corneal abrasion. From her dad's leg hair. (I don't think I can say it enough, it's so weird.)
So there you have it. We've been busy. We've been sick. We've had our corneas abrased (not an actual word). But we just keep plugging along. That's all you can do, right? Keep moving forward. Enjoy the moment. Continue working hard.
Case and point. After I took Chloe to the ER, we stopped to get some ice cream. She can't open her right eye at all and pretty much keeps it covered with a rag. But the girl adapted and pressed on.
And albeit, she ate that ice cream with her eyes closed.
Even at the cost of her clean face and the teddy bear the nurse gave her at the ER. It was precious.
If there's ever anything I can teach her, don't ever give up, girl. Especially when it comes to the important things, like ice cream.
Oh, and did I tell you that somewhere along the way I entered my third trimester? Flying by. And all I have to show for a belly shot is this ridiculous picture from Halloween.
As I've promised my girls, I will promise the boy too. Therapy is paid for, expressly by me.
I should probably post some Halloween pictures, come to think of it. That will be first on my list when things return somewhat to normal.
Did I tell you that Chloe has a corneal abrasion from her dad's leg hair? I don't think I can say it enough.
Jason's gonna kill me.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Jason recently downloaded all of his iPhone pictures to the computer and I had so much fun looking through them. They go way back.
Chloe and I in Chicago.
Chloe and Jason in Cleveland.
The eve of giving birth to Stella. I looked petrified.
Sweet, newborn Stella.
Baby sisters in Cleveland.
Being married to a doctor means having to stomach some really nasty pictures of....well, you name it...tumors, wounds, surgeries, etc. It's been documented on the iPhone. And after a really sweet picture of your child, you pass by really gross pictures of feet and wounds.
You have to learn to live with it.
But even after passing through all of those disturbing pictures, I was stopped in my tracks by the most disturbing picture of all.
It's a picture of the chaos we lived after Stella was born and Chloe was under a year old.
Where's the baby? Where's the baby?
Oh, Stella's just on the couch, nearly falling off head first.
Goodness. I don't know how they survived.
I don't know how I survived.
I don't know how I survived.
Baby boy, consider yourself warned.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Stella has sat patiently through Chloe's dance classes for months now. The plan was to start her in the summer after she turns three, but there was an opening in Chloe's class and the teacher asked me if I'd like to go ahead and have her start.
"Sure." I said, hoping and praying that my 2-1/2 year old would do well in the class.
So today was her first day. And she did so great! I was a little nervous that she would be nervous or scared, but when the teacher told them to line up, her sister grabbed her hand and away they went.
The next three pictures break my heart because they are so sweet.
Sister helping sister.
Nervous (or probably embarrassed) looks at mom.
And then 110% participation. I mean, look at her face. She is ready to go.
The rest of the class went great and I am just so happy and excited
that I get 45-minutes to myself that she finally gets to join in.
Here are a few more pics from before class. Enjoy!
We're proud of you, Stella!