The Queen's Rambles

I’m home! But I’ve not been in the mood to blog. Imagine that.

We got home yesterday thanks to a doctor who actually listened to me. Shocking! I got up before the doctor showed up and combed my hair, put on some real pajamas and sat in the rocking chair instead of laying around in the bed. Once she arrived I begged her to let me go home so I could get some much needed real rest and heal faster. Once she examined me she agreed that I could go. I was so, so relieved. The thought of another 24 hours at the hospital, sitting around in a bed that was killing my tailbone was almost more than I could stand.

It took forever to be discharged because we had to wait for Elsa’s doctor, but we were home by 2:30 yesterday. I did discover that getting into and out of a real bed was extremely painful, but I survived and got a lot more rest. No one came in at 2 am to weigh the baby. No one wanted to draw my blood at 4 am. No alarms sounded. I didn’t have to worry about dropping the baby out the side of the hospital bed. Home is good.

We are all pretty tired, but doing well. I need to take more pictures. We’re totally falling down on that job. Poor second child is already getting the second child treatment.

Poor first child is already getting the “sleep deprived grouchy mother” treatment. I got pretty mad at him this morning when he wouldn’t listen to me and started whapping him with Elsa’s quilt. Bad, bad mommy. After school I tried to make it up to him and took him upstairs with a maze book–no grandma and no Elsa–and spent some time with just him. He seemed to really need that.

I know exactly why I exploded at the boy this morning. My neighbor came over to see if she could have a big glass of ice before she mowed the lawn. I had no problem with that, but then she kept talking and talking and talking. She and my mom got on a roll about the drug house down the street and I am just SO FREAKIN’ TIRED of hearing about it! My mom wants to talk about it constantly. Yes, I know there is a drug house down there. Yes, they need to have their kids taken away. Yes, it is a menace. But what the heck am I supposed to do about it? I’m tired of hearing about it.

Anyway, this lady wouldn’t leave and her and my mom were having a mighty fine time bitching about the people down the street and I just wanted to be left in peace. I shouldn’t have taken it out on Erik, but I did. I guess he’s over it. I’ll have to do better tomorrow.

Other than that I’ve been on a very even keel, emotionally. I remember being a total mess with Erik, but I haven’t had any crying jags yet. Thus far she’s been a much easier baby with very little screaming *knock on wood* It probably helps that she has much more relaxed parents.

I have been really shocked by her appearance. I was expecting another mini-Mike just like Erik. Instead I got a mini-sister. It’s so weird to be nursing my baby, looking down and seeing my sister’s face look up at me. I still am amazed by her dark hair. It’s not a huge amount, but it is way more than Erik ever had. Of course, it will probably fall out and her real hair will grow in, but you never know.

I don’t think she really looks like an Elsa. I wanted to re-visit the name but Mike thought I was nuts. Perhaps I should have mentioned it before he called his family and told them the name.

So there you go. My thoughts are really disjointed and I probably need to go to bed and get some sleep, if sleep is even possible. The percocet makes me really dopey, as if I needed an excuse.