Family

Yup, I’m pregnant!

We’re thrilled.

We’re a little like “What the hell are we doing?” And a little like “Really? That was friggin’ quick!” And a lotta like “This is pretty awesome.”

Life has been busy. I won’t bore you with our completely uninteresting updates of work, more work, grad school, and more work. BUT it’s going to get less busy. I’ll be back to just one job (working from home – freelancing – which I’ve been doing since May) while raising my little girl. Um . . . hell-to-the-yay!

So life will get calmer before it gets busier (when our next bundle of joy arrives in the spring). And then will get calmer again when Rob graduates from business school in May . . . hell-to-the-FRIGGIN-yay!

And then we’ll have two kids who are 18-months apart. Um . . . yikes!

Actually, I think it will be nice to have them close in age: they will have similar interests and – eventually – will be on similar schedules.

It will be fabulous. We’re feeling really lucky.

And Tessa already loves her little sibling (size of a blueberry). She took the ultrasound and quickly crumbled it up in her fist (sibling rivalry already?) and stuffed it in her mouth (pure love, clearly).

Tessa now knows the word “no.” And Tessa doesn’t like it. She obeys it. But doesn’t like it.

She likes to play with the wires behind our electronics in the great room.

Momma: Tessa, no.

Tessa: Waaaahhhhhhh

She likes to try to climb into the cat’s liter box.

Momma: Tessa, no.

Tessa: Waaahhhhhhhh

And now she’s added in the temper tantrum that must be instinctual because how does one learn it. So the new and improved routine is:

Tessa tries to climb a glass shelving unit

Momma: Tessa, no.

Tessa: Waaaahhhhhh – collapses on floor, face to the ground, kicking and screaming.

The first time I saw it, I was like “WTH? That’s pretty damn cute.” And picked her up and kissed her.

Um . . . it’s still pretty flippin’ hysterical but no more mommy kisses. Are you kidding me? Shake it off, sister.

Rob saw it for the first time yesterday and said the same thing, “What the hell is that?” and then picked her up and kissed her.  And so it begins.

Where the hell have I been?  It’s been weeks – WEEKS! – since my last post.

I’ve been working: both a day-job and some freelancing. I’ve been with a sick child who was spewing from both ends for five days and then was in with the doctor for a red throat with lesions. I’ve been with my dad who, in the last week, had his metal leg break, went into surgery, had a semi-pleasant five-day stay at Mayo hospital and is now in recovery.  And I’ve been home trying to keep our household in order now that my husband is only home one day a week.

I am tired.

But I have big announcements coming. Big announcements that I’m very excited about.

Being a mommy will be back! Hahahahaha . . .

Every personality test I take says that I’m logical and not intuitive. I’m thinking and not feeling. I’m a man and not a woman. Which is bullshit because I think I’m a totally sensitive, intuitive WOMAN! Or, at least a chick.

Well, the other day, I was totally intuitive and even have proof. Proof in the form of vomit and diarrhea . . . but proof, nonetheless.

On Wednesday, I dropped Tessa off at daycare and it was actually okay. Okay in that she wasn’t screaming, crying, clinging to me and – otherwise – making my heart break. However, something was off. I couldn’t tell what it was and I just couldn’t shake it.

When I got to work, I jumped on IM and pinged Rob:

Me: yt?

Rob: yeah

Me: I’m worried about Tessa. Something just wasn’t right when I dropped her off. I’m freaking out that she’s not okay.

Silence

Me: yt?

Rob: yeah

Me: I’m going to call daycare

I have never called daycare just to check-in. I’ve thought about it but never have. But not able to shake this ominous feeling, I call daycare . . . and leave a voicemail.

Me: yt?

Rob: yeah

Me: I called daycare and left a voicemail. I’m really worried.

Silence

Daycare calls me back and says that everything is totally fine. That Tessa is playing with Connor and having a great time. Whew. What a relief.

Me: yt?

Rob: yeah

Me: Daycare called back and said that Tessa is fine. Thank goodness. I guess I was just being crazy.

Rob: yeah but I still love you.

Three hours later . . . daycare calls to tell me that Tessa is projectile vomiting nonstop and I need to come pick her up. This is the first time they have ever called me to pick her up. I was really freaking out then. But a part of me was like, “I knew something was off!” And I gave a big “f—k you” to those personality tests – ha, I’m intuitive!

And executive summary on Tessa: she has a stomach bug. Had diarrhea today and – after pumping pedialyte in her all day – is doing a lot better. The poor little angel. I’m really hoping that next week we can avoid pediatrician appointments . . . maybe even two weeks in a row? Now that would be awesome.