Thanks to everyone for all the good thoughts and karma. I really appreciate it.
Bucket's feeling lots better. I still am giving her some Children's ibuprofen every so often (or Tylenol), when she needs it. The glue is still in place. (YAY!!)
I'm still a bit bushed, but I'm feeling lots better. Not nearly as drained as I was last night.
Bucket did wake up once last night, crying. so I got out of bed, padded into her room (where Bruise sat up to see what was going on, then rolled over and fell back asleep. Bless him. I couldn't have dealt very well with two awake children.)
When I got into their room, she was crying, "I water, I water, I water."
So I got her a sippy cup. She drank it (not all of it) and went back to sleep.
As did I.
After I looked at the clock and saw that it wasn't what time I thought it was. I was thinking it felt like 3 A.M.-ish.
It was 1.
I woke up while Michael was getting ready ... and did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen a bit. Since the water got turned off today (they should be nearly done now. They're doing some work. 7:30 A.M. - 10 A.M. ... Let me check and see if it's back on.)
(Yup, it's back on. The dishwasher can finish the load I started. Yay! ... the kitchen smells much better.)
So, last night, the missionaries called to remind us/confirm that we're feeding them dinner tonight.
Elder H is very funny.
He asked how I was. I said that I was better now than I was earlier. So he asked what happened. And I said, "Do you want the long or the short version?"
We chatted about Bucket and Michael reminded me to ask if the elders would prefer pancakes or waffles.
"Oh, Sister [My last name]! You have my heart!" was Elder H's fervent reply. "I love breakfast for dinner!!"
"Well, it's Michael, really, that your heart belongs to. But as long as it's in my keeping, I'll try to keep it safe." I joked.
And I also warned him that the house might not be all that clean. And that it might not smell so nice (Oh, I need to clean out the kitty box. Ew.), and if that was the case, PLEASE just pat my head and say, "Oh, Sister [My last name]. We're just glad that you feed us." And that I would feel oh-so-much better.
And, bless his good sense of humor, he laughed.
Well, now to change the cat box and to do some hardcore vacuuming and to put the kids' clean clothes in their dresser. Michael'll be home around 1. (I love Fridays ... even if the rest of the week, I don't see him for about half the day. Sometimes even less than that if we have meetings.) He'll help make the waffles and hash browns. I think I'll be in charge of the sausage gravy. And if the elders want eggs, we can do that, too.
And maybe we'll all get a nap. That'd be nice. Really nice.
Other good news: It looks like Bucket won't have TOO much of a scar. She's precious, regardless. And she's sweet and smart and clever enough that I'm not worried about a scar hampering her changes of attracting her future sweethearts.
Hey, Bruise already has a couple scars ... Chicks dig scars. Especially scars on boys that are sweeter than aspertame, but without the nasty aftertaste. ^_^ And he's certainly clever, too. I think he'll be a Mr. Fix-It before long. ^_^ Always a nice thing.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Back in the saddle ... mostly
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1 comment:
Poor little Bucket! Don't worry too much about a scar. I slid across a linoleum floor in our kitchen when I was five and sliced my face wide open on one of those old fashioned metal child locks on an open cabinet door I went past. My mom didn't take me in for stitches or anything and all I have today is a dimple on one cheek when I smile. Besides, with eyes like hers, the boys will be too busy gazing into them to notice a tiny little scar on her lip!
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