Saturday night at approximately 7:32 pm I was hit, like a speeding freight train, by a stomach bug. Yes, it was so sudden and so intense that I actually remember the very moment it humbled me into a hunched over, whiney, gurgling mess of a woman. I looked at the clock and said,
“Meh. And Uck. I’m going to bed.”
So there I slept peacefully, with a plastic grocery bag clenched in my fist, until 11 p.m., when I could no longer ignore the rumbling and bitching of a very pissed off, angry set of bowels. I prefer the illnesses that make you rest. This sickness had a personality all its own. It had every intention of keeping me very aware of my stomach all. night. long. And, to be honest with you, I don’t really give a shit about bonding with my belly at 1 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Ya know?
I spent the wee morning hours gently coaxing water down my throat. With each sip I meditated and prayed that this one little sip would stay down.
“I must drink. I will keep it down. I. will. do. it. for. Noah. (because breastmilk made of dust is not very tasty or nutritional). For Noah. I can do it.”
The sickness literally lasted 24 hours– hence it is called a 24-hour bug. Not 12 hours. Not 23 hours. Twenty-four whole, complete, and total fucking hours. Hmph.
Ok, so I am recovered now and I was thinking this morning, after weighing in 5 pounds lighter, that this is how those skinny bitches like Paris and Nicole keep their hott, sexy bones poking out (Meh! Uck!). They throw up. I was looking at my naked body in the mirror this morning (no bones poke out, let me tell ya) and I was all (imagine a valley girl accent),
“I totally, like, weigh 5 pounds less than I did yesterday! Yeah… Like, Totally! I guess I won’t need that seaweed-mocha-enema at the resort in the Bahamas after all!”
Kidding aside (not that enemas are funny), Paris Hilton and all of her skinny, debutante, socialite friends are stupid bitches because there is nothing funny about spending 24 hours throwing up just to be skinny. Someone hand that girl some meat. Throw her some fried chicken! Shit, throw me some fried chicken, I’m the one who lost 5 pounds!
Geesh.
And being that Jeremy and I share everything, and because he is my best friend, and since I love him sooooooo very much…
I introduced him to the 24 hour bug. I’m sorry, Baby!
Posted by: stepherz | 10-30-2006 | 06:10 AM
Posted in: General | Comments (7)
We currently have an adjustable rate mortgage. Gah!
No big deal, you say? Well, in April of next year our payments start rising. REALLY rising. This is painful but under control as long as we are both bringing in our normal income. If Jeremy has a few snow days off of work, OUCH! If he has a few days lapse before his next job starts, OUCH! My income is always the same regardless of sick or vacation days, so no problems there. Anyhow, I want to get out of the adjustable rate and into a fixed rate because!!! If we can lock down our payments!!! I can quit my job and be a stay at home mommy!!! So, I am trying to refinance. But this isn’t so easy for folks with so-so credit. So if it works out, it was meant for me to be a stay at home mommy. If not, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. No big deal either way… But do cross your fingers for the latter option, huh?
I can see it. Playing, cuddling, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, walks, and surrounding myself with babies with tangly, unbrushed hair and milk moustaches. I will play in the dirt and make mud pies and grow gardens. I will kiss owies, finger paint , and run in the sprinkler. I will have friends with hippie babies like mine and we will exchange oatmeal cookie recipes, and meet at the pool, and make dandelion necklaces for our babes. Austin, Noah, Bella, and Momma.
No more 401K. No more retirement plans. No more cable television. No more cute stilettos. But we shall have love, and laughter, and a fixed mortgage rate. What else could a gal want? The 401k plan isn’t nearly as awesome as watching my kids grow up and participating in every moment of that!
You turned 4 months old yesterday. You laughed for the first time yesterday too. I guess it was your birthday present to me. I could hardly keep my composure when you did it; you might have thought I was the happiest woman alive. I am though. And it’s the little things like a little nasally laugh from you that give my life such meaning. Honestly. It is amazing how uncomplicated life really is. Life is so easygoing that it only requires love and laughter to nurture it along. Your sweet giggle makes me realize how much someone up there loves me. I must have, at some point, done something very, very right.
For your 4 month birthday I didn’t take you for ice cream and I didn’t treat you to a happy meal. I took you for your dreaded eye exam. The doctors wanted to make sure that the infection at birth didn’t cause problems with your eyesight. It was the hardest thing I have ever experienced as a mother. I know I will encounter tougher times during my mommy career, but this was ultimately the most heart crushing experience so far. As the doctor dilated your little eyes and stuffed awful instruments to hold your little lids open, the flashing lights, strangers, and being held down made you scream like I’ve never heard. Your cries made my adrenaline go, and I felt like an angry momma bear. I was ready to clobber the doctor and nurse, grab you up, and run. I knew that test was for the good, but the cries you let out made me feel horrible and monstrous. I literally choked back tears. I tried so hard to comfort you with a strong and comforting voice, but I wanted to cry too. I wanted to cry because you depend on me for comfort and protection, but you must have doubted my efforts, even if just for a moment. You must have felt so insecure and afraid. I was there though, Sweetie. I always, always will be.
Your eyes were perfect. They were as healthy as healthy eyes can be, and I haven’t even made you start eating carrots yet. I am so grateful for your health, Noah. Your beginning was so rough, but look at you now! You are a rolly, polly, cuddly, and lovable little 13 pound person. You’re a beautiful little man with a sweet little giggle. We are so blessed to have you. Thank you for coming into our lives, Sweet Boy. You complete this lovable little family unit.
Happy 4th Month, Noah Nooskers!
Posted by: stepherz | 10-25-2006 | 11:10 AM
Posted in: General | Comments (5)
"She fearlessly defeats monsters hiding in closets and under beds. She bravely conquers vast worlds of laundry on weekends. And she painstakingly protects her young with her nurturing love and her mighty mommy muscles..."
