What a Week I'm Having

Of course I don't feel like life with two sons is "real" yet. I mean, I've had non-stop help for all of Ollie's month of life. I am starting to freak out at the thought of being alone. I mean, what if Rhett is acting up while Oliver is crying? What if I need to run to the grocery store? Seriously. I am not ready for all that.

Otherwise life has been pretty dang good. Sure, I'm ready for the end of a routine-less existence, but that's life with an infant, right? Until then, my thoughts have been as random as my movements, desires, and moods. Here are some of the things I've been thinking and experiencing.

Chuck loves putting our babies in funny positions. Could Bruno be a more patient dog? No. Could Ollie be cuter? No.


Moms are awesome. I mean, who would think to wash not only my shower curtain liners but also the bath mat in my bathroom?! That bath mat is now so luxurious that I am determined to wash it again--and at a point in time less than three years from now.

My dad is worse than a teenage girl when it comes to telephone use. It's pretty dang funny. What can he possibly have to say?!

Speaking of my dad, my house is freezing (ask me later if you don't know why). But the good thing about a freezing house is that sweatshirts can be worn! Soup in the summer isn't out of the question! Remember when I asked about what temperature you'd keep your thermostat if money were no issue? Well I know now: I'd keep it higher than 70, maybe 72. Emily, 65, really?!

While most of my body is feeling pretty dang good after giving birth, I'm still having problems with my wrists and hands. I think the carpal tunnel is getting better, even though I can't wear my wedding rings yet and still need the braces at night. However, I developed a case of tendinitis (yes, that's really how it's spelled even though I have tendons and not tendins) of the wrist. This tendinitis really hurts. And I mean really. I can barely feed Oliver, or lift him out of the bassinet. It's pretty depressing.

Oliver is being blessed on Sunday. It's pretty exciting.

Before Oliver was born, I wisely thought we might want cookies but that I might not feel up to making them once he was out. So I made two batches of dough (yum 1 and yum 2), rolled them into balls, and froze them for later; I got ten cookie-sheets-worth. Do you know how many bags are left? Less than two. Do you know how many actually made it to the oven? Exactly two. Frozen dough is awesome.

Rhett said something awesome the other day. After finding his car smashed by a tree (okay, maybe I exaggerate), my dad said, "Well, I need a Coke." Rhett, from the kitchen table yells, "No, you don't need a Coke, No Google, you just want a Coke." Do you think he's heard that before? I love kids. Well, I love my kids.

I really and truly pined to experience a natural disaster. Not one in which people were hurt, but a real one nonetheless. But I wish that no longer: not as a mom and not as a homeowner. Too scary and too much at risk. I mean, sure the earthquake experience is kinda fun now, but certainly not when it was happening. And the hurricane at first just seemed like a regular rain storm, not too unusual for Maryland (hence the picture of Rhett of playing in the rain). But at Oliver's 1:00 a.m. feeding, that wind no longer seemed so innocent. And at 6:00 a.m. when I found the tree on my dad's car, not innocent at all. In fact, quite guilty. Amazingly, the 6" of rainwater in our window well caused no damaged and my dad's car suffered only small dents on the top. It could have been so much worse!