Everything's Back to Normal

My kid is so funny. I mean, really.
She wore her bathing suit all day Saturday.
Today, she wore her ballerina outfit all morning and then put this dress on (backwards).
She calls granola bars vanilla bars.
She won't go to bed unless she has 352 stuffed animals surrounding her.
She arranged her princess figurines in a perfect line on her play table. She said they were waiting in line for food.
She's started making up her own songs. She sings about mommy's belly and her shoes.
She tells me what she's going to do, for example, have a picnic with strawberries and blueberries, and that I should take a picture of her. "That would be a good idea", she says.
She'd run around naked all day if we'd let her.
Oh, and she loves to take showers by herself (Don't worry. I stay in the bathroom with her.)
And at night, she likes to trick me to come into her room by saying, "Mommy! I have to tell you something." When I go in to find out what she is dying to tell me, it's usually something like, "Ursula has 8 legs, Mom."(The evil octopus from Little Mermaid) or "Tomorrow, for a snack I want some jelly beans."
Yes, I've been giving in. Movies, candy, naked house parties. She'll only be a toddler once. And, she'll only be an only for 2 more months.

However, some people never grow up:

Finally, Something Good.

So, after the hardest month of my life (okay, I'm exaggerating), I finally have something positive to blog about.
Tonight, we had our hospital tour.
It was just what I needed.
This pregnancy has literally kicked my ass. It's been unpleasant, to say the least (some of you know all the disgusting details- not blog material- and can vouch for me). It's been extremely hard to be excited about another baby when it's giving you such a hard time in the womb!

Arriving at the hospital, seeing the convenience of the layout and visiting the labor and delivery room really started me thinking positively about this little peanut. It's real. It's happening again and it will most likely be completely different than the first.

The night was made even more special by the fact that all of the doctors in our practice were present and gave us a little personal background before the guided tour. I was happy that Tim was able to see and "meet" them all.

Holding hands, walking down the hallways and looking into the rooms still frightened me a little, but it was a good feeling, not a bad one. I'm ready. And of course, visiting those teeny tiny newborns in the nursery always makes me well up inside. It hit me. Our lives are going to change again, very soon. Having Audrey, seeing her for the first time and immediately being overcome with a love I cannot describe in words, was the best day of my life. I'm looking forward to feeling that heart-exploding magic again.

Tonight, I'm optimistic. Covered in varicose veins, wetting my pants every time I cough, recovering from pneumonia and chasing a moody toddler around, but optimistic.



P.S. I forgot to mention that when we got home Audrey asked, "Did you take the baby out, Mama?"

Nope. She's still in there.

Enough Already!

So, I realize that I've been complaining a lot lately.
I just don't feel good.
I was out 3 days last week with the flu and am out today with, what I think, is bronchitis.
Friday, and I can't even enjoy it.

I've put a call into the nurse in hopes that I can take something. I'm really hoping for some antibiotics. The over the counter decongestant isn't working. (It could be that I yakked it up shortly after taking it...)
I really want to sleep and rest, but I CANNOT STOP COUGHING. I'd even settle for staying in the steamy shower all day, but that's not possible (not to mention what the water bill would be!) This illness has turned me into a cranky, short-tempered, unlikable being.

Last night, in the middle of a coughing fit, Tim says to me, "I wish you'd go ahead and have this baby already. I want my old wife back."

Kill me now.

Somewhere, nearby, there's a squirrel without a tail.

So, this week has been complete and utter Hell.
Hell, I say.
I had the flu for three days. I've literally been up to my ears in work, struggling to meet deadlines. Pregnant. Tired.
Thursday afternoon, Tim comes home with Audrey and she's burning up. Yup, the flu.
Neither Tim or I could afford to take another day off work, so we drove out to my mom's to drop Audrey off. I'd pick her up after work on Friday.
And that's what I did.
Not only was she still feverish, she also had pinkeye. Great.

Traffic was a bitch. We sat in the car for 2 hours on the way home. Rain sure does screw everything up. Anyway, we pull into the driveway and I'm so glad to be home.
Tim was standing outside and told us that we couldn't go in the house.
What? Why not?
Apparently, when Tim arrived home there'd been a squirrel in the house and Lincoln, the dog, had attacked it. There was blood everywhere.

Ok. I wasn't about to stand out in the rain and wait for animal control to come. I was exhausted. Audrey was sick. I'd been in the car for way too long......
Tim's yelling at me, "Angela, don't go in there!" as I disappear into the house with a broom. It was a wreck. Blood was everywhere. EVERYWHERE!
I found the little shit in the corner of the dining room, right next to his unattached tail and a puddle of blood. We went back and forth a couple times, but not 2 minutes later he shuffled out the back door.
"How'd you do that?" asked Tim.
I was so irritable by that point that I didn't bother to answer. I just wanted to get the house cleaned, sanitized and back in order so that I could bathe Audrey, give her some medicine and get to bed.
"Don't go in the bathroom." Tim ordered.
"Why not?"
"Lincoln's in there. He's all bloody."

So, I started with the mop.
Tim wiped up the dining room and disposed of the squirrel parts.
He moved on to the bathroom to get Lincoln all taken care of. I hear that bath water running and then stopping. About five minutes after that I hear, "Shit." "SHIT." "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Angela! Get me a towel!"
I open the door to throw him a towel. It appeared as if someone had been murdered in there. Blood on everything. Lincoln is covered in blood again (after his bath) and it's squirting out his nose.
Needless to say, Tim wrapped him up asked for the credit card and was out the door.

I cleaned up massive amounts of blood while Audrey perched herself on the couch and was ordered not to get up.

Luckily, Lincoln was fine. The squirrel got him in the nose and he sneezed opening the previous wound. The vet only charged us $40. That was a relief.

I went to bed after giving Audrey eye drops (which is always a blast). I lay there thinking about how much I hate squirrels.

I hate squirrels.

Sidenote: Did not even find out about the tornado until this afternoon. Totally oblivious.

I fucking hate squirrels.