You’ll forgive if this post is disjointed, won’t you?
I’m not yet fully awake. I seriously need to consider starting a coffee habit, it seems. A shame, too, having made it 26 years without one. I’m currently eating a piece of quiche. (A friend brought us some after Eva’s birth, and I haven’t been able to kick the habit since. That, and homemade tomato soup.) Maybe I’ll start a morning cup of quiche tradition, seeing that I detest coffee and all.
Eva had her first ped appointment this week- my attempt to sort of get her on the grid, for “just in case” reasons. ;OP
She’s 24.4 inches long and 14lbs 2oz! Gooooooooo breastmilk. ;OP Comically enough, I’m down 14lbs since my initial baby/fluid/extra blood volume loss at her birth. We’d better not keep up this pound for pound thing long, though, or I’ll be lugging around a 50 lb 1yo in 10 months, lol.
This morning, Eva and Noni were snuggling together on Noni’s mattress beside our bed, and naturally, I had to snap a few pics. ::mush:: Noni has decided not to “give Evie to pirates who will chew off her arms” or “put her on a floating iceberg”…now she’s simply toned the maledictory statements down to adding the following verse to The Wheels on the Bus: “the Evie on the bus goes far away, far away, far away…” I’ll take the improvement. I’m also impressed by the clever play on words. (She might gotten have my dark sense of humor…poor kiddo.) She now loves her baby sister, and all accounts of pirates stealing her are ended with Super-Nomi saving Eva and bringing her back.
We are a family of dreamers…apparently, my girls inherited my ability to remember a great deal of what they dream. Recently, Essie dreamed about our friend Brian standing at our front door, eating a hotdog. It’s become quite popular; now every morning, both girls have to repeat the hotdog dream during the morning dream-report session. So, our morning so far has gone something like: wake up with five people piled into my bed, our youngest giggling, our eldest air-trumpeting revelry in our ears, and our 2yo cheerfully recounting the hotdog dream. My husband groaning, pillow over head. Good times.
I suspect I’ve become a lawn widow. Nate now must spend considerable time mowing. I hear bigger yards do that. If you see my husband, tell him I have quiche for him. The in-a-cup part is optional.
Esther’s starting to become concerned with honesty and being trustworthy, and, of course, this makes me smile. This morning, I stumbled into the living room (in search of aforementioned camera), and noticed her playing CandyLand with herself. “Mom, look! I got all the way to Candy Castle! I won!!” (wait for it……) “**sly grin** I may have cheated a little.” (snicker)
Now. If you’ll forgive me, I’m fairly certain I’ve just been pooped on.