The nurse just tried to take Benny off the oxygen. He almost did OK, then his levels dipped fairly low while he was nursing & dozing off. He is on just the tiniest bit right now. They suctioned him out right before that and couldn't get nearly as much out as they did at bedtime. That's good. His chest has a "little rattle" on one side and he's got a mean (but sporadic) cough tonight. But even the relentless-coughing-fit coughs sound much better than the coughs over the last few days. I am pretty sure they will send us home today. (The ped. kind of let me decide yesterday whether to go home or stay another night.)
It has not been the most restful night for me. (Go figure, given my location.) I was flipping channels last night and landed on Supernanny when someone came in to do something to the baby, so I went to the potty. I didn't hear/watch much of it, but I had to change the channel at the first available opportunity. It hit a tiny bit too close to home with the dad who was always on the computer while mom is left to take care of the kids solo. (It's not that mine doesn't help out... he is usually pretty good about helping when I ask... sometimes with negative comments, but he still does it. It's just that he could take more initiative about helping instead of waiting to be asked. Especially at bedtime. I am completely, despairingly weary from it.) That, and possibly the too-sweet apple cobbler I stupidly ordered for dessert, made me have terrible, terrible, awful dreams about giving him the boot. Oh, and probably something my BF said to me on the phone the other day about something that happened when she was here last weekend. And then I woke up very sad because, of course, I love him, in spite of his faults (and am thankful he feels the same about me, because if we started counting, I
I am seriously looking forward to, but at the same time dreading, a trip I'm planning to take in Apr/May. Sammy's godfather is getting married in VA. Daddy has work obligations and can't make the trip at the same time with us, whether we fly or drive. I decided that driving 3 kids across the country, given that I have lots of places to stop along the way if I take a southern, circuitous route, is a lesser evil than trying to fly across the country with 3 kids + 3 car seats and only 2 arms (and at least 1 plane change). Plus if I drive, I can go see Misty & John and a bunch of other cool people up in MD after the wedding.
It was Friday yesterday, and I managed to forget and eat meat at all 3 meals. Despite realizing my mistake after both breakfast AND lunch, and thinking "Well, at least I will remember the next time." I am really not firing on all cylinders here...
Speaking of Lent, I have not once successfully gotten up earlier than the rest of the family to spend quiet time in prayer, like I hoped/intended. Of course, this probably has a lot to do with being woken up by a crying infant 10-20 times per night since Lent started. And yet here I sit, having wasted the hour since the nurse woke me up, on the computer, instead of praying. (I think I might need *you* to pray for *me*...)
I signed up for Twitter yesterday. It is not nearly as cool as Facebook. Judging from the dates of the last posts of the friends I found on it, it would seem that a lot of people agree with me on that one.
I had been thinking for the past week or so I might have a touch of PPD. I didn't feel sad, so much as apathetic. About everything. But that is not a feeling I normally have. I'm usually pretty passionate, one way or the other, about nearly everything. Plus my hubby has been asking me 20 times a day lately, "Are you doing OK?" I thought maybe he knew something I didn't. Now I'm thinking it was just illness and sleep deprivation. Oh, and the sad, sad, messy state of the house, which nobody but me seems to care or want to do anything about. (So weary. Very, very weary!) But... you might want to keep an eye on me, just in case I'm wrong about that.
I have finally figured out the advantage to having an MP3 player separate from my phone - you don't get your songs (or talks, in my case) interrupted by phone calls. Now I want an iPod.
As much as I hate hospitals, this has not been a terrible experience. He really needed to be here; the oxygen and wall suction helped him so much. The food has actually been pretty good. They give me vouchers for meals, since he is a nursing infant. The nurses & techs have all been very nice. The room is so very not cluttered. (So, so weary!) Also, I have figured out what I really hate about hospitals, is the sickly antiseptic smell. I associate it with death, since all my childhood and young adult hospital experiences involved visiting extremely sick, usually dying grandparents. And this one, thankfully, doesn't have the smell. (Perhaps 20 years later, the original ones don't either. I don't know. But I still hate them!)
I am feeling like pond scum for not getting thank-you notes out yet. And yet, how can I even get downstairs to make them when there are always dirty dishes; filthy floors; 1-3 diapers needing changed at any given moment; laundry or diapers that need washed, dried, or put away; another meal that needs cooked; a 3' stack of mail to go through; a book that needs to be read because I'm the only one who can read 100% of the words... (Although, really, Sammy is starting to read a LOT of words these days! But with reading, like most other things, he lacks self-confidence in his own abilities and wants Mama to do it for him.) I can't do it all, and I am so, so, so weary. I have to admit, I was actually glad to come to the hospital, just to have a bit of respite from the mess and responsibilities. Or maybe not so much the responsibilities, as the lack of adequate time to actually take care of all the responsibilities.
Okay, that was probably about 5000 more words than I *should* have shared. But thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
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