Let's start off with something not-so-fun, to keep it real around here. I was driving to pick up dinner for a cousin's new baby, which due to a nasty head cold had been relegated to Papa Murphy's instead of cooking something homemade. (I didn't wanna back out, and I did NOT want to pass this nastiness on to a tiny baby & their family!)
So there I was, minding my own business, listening to NPR on the radio with the windows down when suddenly A BEE FLEW IN THE WINDOW AND STUNG ME ON THE LEG OUT OF NOWHERE. Of course I screamed a little bit, then panicked because I was a) driving on a busy road, b) unable to see anything because it was that terrible time of the day where you drive directly west and you're pretty much blind, and c) I couldn't tell if the damn thing had left the car or not!
I pull over at the next available parking lot, jump out of my car and try to find the bee. No luck. I don't see anything for awhile, while vigorously shaking myself up and down to get it off clothes and moving the seats back and forth to see if got stuck under there. As I finally give up and start climbing back in the car, I see it behind me - but I'm pretty sure it flies off in the other direction, so I think I'm safe.
Fast forward to me having dropped off the pizza. I get back in the car and start driving up the block after saying goodbye to the family, and WHO DO I SEE BUT THE STUPID BEE STUCK ON MY SHIRT! So I yank on the emergency brake in the middle of the road and hop out (probably yelling at the top of my lungs, I have no idea) and try to get it off me. I see a car coming the other direction so I get back in, see the bee behind me and somehow either managed to squish it by closing the car door or it flies off unharmed.
It was an overall traumatic experience, especially since the last time I was stung by a bee was like as a 6 year old when 4 got stuck under my shirt, and I've been terrified of them ever since. I had to call David on the way home and ask him to meet me in the driveway to find the stupid thing just in case it had still survived.
Whew. Onto less traumatic topics!
As I mentioned, Kate got all of us sick, and has been sick herself, since this last weekend. Sounds like there's something viral going around (according to my OB, anyway) and let me tell you, it is not fun being this sick while wrangling a toddler and without the ability to take those really good drugs cause you're pregnant.
Kate has been her happy-go-lucky self, full of an insane amount of energy for how much snot and coughing has been coming from her corner. As evidenced by this photo, I've been trying to let her and Murph work off their energy together which sometimes works out well but usually ends in tears or yelling on someone's part. (And no, it's not always Kate...sometimes Murph gets her tail pulled or stepped on and quickly retreats to another room so as not to be more tortured by the little one.)
Speaking of my OB, I want to know a few things about this new doctor's office I'm going to, and how moms of more than just a toddler manage.
First of all, I've gone to maybe 6 or 7 appointments there now, and this week was only the second time I've ever seen another kid in the office. Am I the only one who brings their kiddo to this office? Or am I just the only one who has more than one?? Is this like, some office for just first-time-pregnancies? I'm not sure how it happens but it's strange in comparison to the doc I went to Lincoln, where Kate was always surrounded by kids in the waiting room, no matter what time of day it was. (To be fair, that was a family practice doc who delivered also, but still.)
Secondly, I literally cannot imagine bringing Kate AND a baby, or later on two toddlers, anywhere like a doctor's office by myself. Target or grocery shopping, sure - there's a big cart to hopefully contain them in, and you're not constantly surrounded by hazardous waste trash bins or trying to get them not to climb on you while the doctor is trying to do some procedure. How do you moms of multiples do it? Do you just make appointments for when someone else can watch the kids? That's my only idea right now and the thought of anything else stresses me out.
If you're a space nerd like me, you might enjoy Wait But Why's most recent post. (Large language warning, in the nickname of the rocket amongst other places, if that sort of thing bothers you.) It's all about Elon Musk's recently unveiled plan to colonize Mars, with the big rocket he is building.
I mean, I know I'm one of only some people who find stuff like this fascinating, but it's totally worth the read if you're like me. (Don't tell David, but I'm saving up for my ticket already. :))
I'm itching to paint some rooms, mostly Kate's room and the nursery before the baby gets here.
These Pinterest images are inspiring me:
|source: The Boo and the Boy|
|source: The Boo and the Boy|
I am sure David is reading this saying to himself, "there's no way we're painting any rooms, Hannah, don't get your hopes up" so...we'll see if it actually happens.
We had big plans to start the garage organizing this weekend, because David's set of garage cabinets are supposed to ship today (fingers crossed) and we have a lot of cleaning and prep to do before we can install them. The previous owners of the house stored some old cars in here, which means we have a very spacious 4 car garage but there is a lot of gross oil buildup and stuff in spots.
We had originally hoped to maybe epoxy the floor, but after reading some reviews of the DIY kind, got a little discouraged because apparently it doesn't hold up very well over time. I'm still pushing for it, because I think it'd be a worthwhile investment, so we'll see what happens.
If we don't do that, I have hopes to work on the nursery and the baby quilt and try to rest up so this darned cold can go away.
I totally had a topic for take #7 when I started writing, but brain fog/the sneezing attack I just had (7 in a row, mind you) wiped it from my memory. Sorry. You'll have to survive with just 6!
Head over to Kelly's for some great parenting advice and to check out the rest of the quick-takers.