Recovery

The volunteer corps that has been tending to our sink of dirty dishes and tending to Baby Girl's newfound interest in reading The Berenstein Bears and Too Much TV - which she subsequently wants to watch on the telly; this toddler knows irony - has left.  They arrived when we were still a family of three and now they depart and we are a family of four. That's madness.

I've been so so grateful for the help, but I'm glad for the reprieve, as well.  My guts are all still so painfully swollen and my appetite is pretty poor and my desire to just hermit-snuggle Little Man for hour upon silent hour is so great.  I'm happy to trade an immaculately clean home for a messy one if it means I can walk around our place with my milk-stained t-shirt and not feel self-conscious.

So far, though, we're lucking out with Little Man who really is a champion sleeper/feeder and must have some copper pipes for plumbing because dang if this kid's bowels aren't a thing of beauty.

Baby Girl has decided to love on Little Man at every opportunity while punishing her parents in ways never before demonstrated.  Girlfriend grew a set of horns and has taken to violent outbursts, hitting Mama, and declared herself oppositional in every way.  Of course we were forewarned, but like every parent on earth, we said to ourselves, "Oh...but our child will be different!"

HAH.

HAHAHHH!

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA.

wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Homecoming

We brought Little Man home from the hospital.  I got a chocolate glazed donut from Mike's en route.  I felt it was deserved. ***

Baby Girl dropped a large volume of Curious George stories on her foot in an attempt to grab Grover Goes to School.  Through tears, she choked, "I can read this one to him."

***

Baby Girl passed out in our bed and Little Man conked out while I was changing his diaper on said bed.  I looked at this fluffy plateau where both of these little sleeping monuments lay and I thought, Woah.  Both of those came out of my body.  And now they are both here.  Siblings.  Asleep.  Peaceful, one next to the other.

***

And this is about all I want to remember about the last two days.

Nana Red had to leave before Little Man was 48 hours old :( Baby Girl made me the best bouquet for a hospital patient ever...a bouquet of craft supply.

Hulmonee arrived and was whipping up dumplings in record time.  Likes.

I know this is not the end even though it kinda is

Dear Loverpants, I have a strong feeling that neither one of us will emerge from this weekend without having met Newbie 'Nother Baby.  And by strong feeling, I mean that reminders keep coming every 5-10 minutes like an alarm clock vibrating along my uterine walls.  Nay, the weekend shall not close, I suspect, without Newbie coming out some manner of hatch on my person, God-made or man-made, and that is both exhilarating and terrifying all at once and over and over again.

That said, I just want to put this out into the Universe:  If I die in childbirth, which I likely won't, but, ya know, in the event of a fatal nosebleed from all that pushing, I just want you to know that I think you are wonderful and through the prism of parenthood, I got to see your wonderfulnesses exponentialize and consider myself the most blessed wifemum ever!  Even if I harped on you not doing things immediately...you taught me to remember what really mattered was not expediently putting away the pyjamas off the bathroom floor but having lots of laughs and tea parties with Baby Girl and wanting what we have and nothing more.

Please give yourself a hug and an earlobe pinch for me everyday, and tell Baby Girl that she was the most extraordinary treasure I've ever been lent.  Also, hug her daily for me and tell her that the best days will be those when she helps others.  Also, that she will someday be a great climber, maybe of rock walls or corporate ladders or ivory towers.

Tell Newbie how much he/she was loved his/her whole womb life by me, and how I know what a great kickstarter he/she will be in this life, and I'll look forward to meeting and holding him/her in the next life.

Finally, do promise me that if I die in childbirth, your next go-round with marriage you'll find yourself a kinder wife, less given to theatrics such as in this blog post.

Love Love Love, K

P.S. I loved what you wrote here.