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Mar 09

Sick kids

I haven’t blogged in a bit, but I’ve been pretty busy. Saturday was an okay day – I went out for a while by myself, leaving Marc home alone with all four children. Which, in retrospect, was a terrible idea, because while I had a lovely afternoon, bopping to the library and hanging out in the nice, warm sunshine reading – they were home here destroying the house, grounding play doh into the rug, throwing toys around with reckless abandon and in general, just having an absolute free for all. Marc’s great with the kids, and they always have fun with him, but he’s not good at instilling any self control or discipline. As long as they’re not bleeding, he’s sure whatever they’re doing is fine. They’ll be happy and fed and content, but whenever I leave him alone with them, I pay for it with hours of cleaning and yelling and fighting when I get home. Bitter, much? Yeah, maybe just a tad…

So Saturday night sucked. Really bad.

Sunday wasn’t much better, because Sam came down with a major fever and chest cold. Just burning up and so sick. He’s getting better, but is definitely still sick. Then Jess got up this morning and started puking. She only threw up that one time, but is also developing hives – so it’s a virus. I’ve got one kid, feverish and with a bad cough and the other one puking. I’m also having braxton hicks contractions off and on, my hips are killing me and I’m so tired from two straight nights of being up with sick kids, in addition to getting up to pee every couple of hours.

Guess this isn’t a very happy blog post.

In other news… I’m getting a lot done around the house, in terms of getting ready for the baby. I’ve got the portacrib/bassinette all set up, her clothes all sort of organized (if you define organized very loosely) and am trying to decide between a regular stroller, a jogging stroller and a double jogging stroller. Spring is sort of here, it’s been considerably warmer, and I’m clinging to that – because in the spring, that’s when my baby comes.

I keep thinking that everything will be so much better when the baby comes. And part of it is that I want the baby for her sake, but a big part of it is that I won’t be pregnant any more. I won’t be sore and tired and itchy and irritable. I won’t be nauseated off and on, I’ll be me again. I’ll be able to walk for a long time, take the kids out and about, be able to stay up past Jessie’s bedtime. I’ll be able to be the mother that I’m supposed to be, instead of this crabby, moaning, achy one that they’ve had to put up for the past seven months. I like to be active, I like to have them outside, I like to be sunshiney delighted, baking with them, and painting and working on fun projects. I’m a really good mom, when I’m not pregnant. Most of this pregnancy has been devoted to just me trying to survive it, and the closer I get to the end of it, the more I look forward to being me again.

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