Sadness

On Tuesday, my family lost its matriarch - my Grandma Susie. The grief is still too raw.
I'm having a hard time putting my sadness and her greatness into words - but Frank has managed to capture it so elegantly - please read his words in place of mine for the time being.
A Funeral in Liberia
Grieving from Abroad

Verbs

Bought: a product from Babies R Us called a "piddle pad" - suppose to protect the infant carrier from explosive blow-out poops, of which we have our share.

Returned: decided that the product was cumbersome in the seat (hard to get the straps around it) and we had only had ONE incident in the first three months that required me to wash the car seat . . . perhaps it was unnecessary.

Smelled: as I was AT THE REGISTER receiving my store credit - I smelled something afoul.

Saw: immediately. The poop was everywhere. On her legs, up her back, on her belly. It was all over the place.

Stripped: all clothes had to come off in the Babies R Us bathroom - nothing could be saved.

Washed: hillbilly style. In the bathroom sink under the motion-detector faucet. It was the only way to get her clean enough to transport home.

Know: God has a great sense of humor.

Crying Over Spilt Milk

I've pumped breast milk every now and then since Lola was about 4 weeks old so that family members could give her a bottle. But it hasn't really been a necessity until this week when I (temporarily) went back to work for a short stint (it's a long story having to do with health insurance and employee status.) Now that I've actually been gone during the day, expressing milk for a bottle has become a requirement. I'm happy to do it for Sweet Lola, but it takes time, and care, and to be honest, somewhat of a hassle between transporting the pump and parts to work, finding a time (and a place) to actually pump, washing and sterilizing all the parts, and sorting the milk into storage bags for the freezer. So you can only imagine the frustration and disappointment of spilling over 6 ounces of milk onto my kitchen counter while trying to transfer today's bounty from the container to the storage bag. I'm guessing that only a mother can relate - it probably doesn't seem like all that big of a deal outside of mother-world. But trust me - it was quite traumatic. My friend Laurie once compared pumping bottles at work to living paycheck-to-paycheck. It's so true! And my check just bounced.

This morning

My wonderful mother-in-law is in town this week helping keep an eye on Lola since I had to go into work for a few days.
A few things that I did this morning (many for the first time in 3 months):
1. Flossed my teeth
2. Put moisturizer on my face
3. Used a pumice stone on my feet
4. Showered without singing "The Farmer in the Dell"
Each activity was more glorious than the next.

Oh yes, I did.

Three Thoughts

1. Lola's once-a-day enormous poop has become consistently explosive. Now, it doesn't matter how quickly I get her to the changing table, a nanosecond after I hear the rumbles the poop blows out the back of the diaper. Do all infants do this? It seems like I would have heard more about this phenomenon if it was a universal thing - so I have to imagine that it's not.

2. We almost went stir crazy today. Lola had a HUGE accomplishment last night - she slept through the night until 5:50 am!! The downside was that she was up for the day at 5:50 am - so even though I hadn't woken up in the middle of the night - I was still exhausted, and it made for a very long day. Ben was on call, it was POURING all morning, and most people we know were either out of town or spending the day with family. So we sat. In the house. All day long.

3. I literally have 6 loads of laundry to fold.

Fly Away: Update

For the record, we have killed FOUR more flies since I posted earlier today. That's disgusting. Fortunately, I think they are all gone now.