Arrrghhh!

That's my angry pirate noise...

Whatta week! Actually, it's only Friday. So, what I really mean is "what a few days". The first two days home from the hospital were quite nice... but things have gone downhill from there.

(*cue that Daniel Powter song "Bad Day", but substitute 'days' for day and 'mega-crappy, uber-poopy, super-duper extra bad' for bad).

Alice, aka Granny, aka best-mom-ever left on tuesday, with the knowledge she was coming back later this week when Chris leaves for work. I was sad to see her go (an understatement) but knew that we'd get through the week okay without her.

Well, since then, we've had a mega-storm that caused Marilyn, aka Nanna, to fall and break her wrist in two places. She's awaiting surgery and in major pain, poor thing. Needless to say, she's even more incapacitated than I am with my incision. We've missed her greatly around here and wish her a very speedy recovery.

I spent yesterday afternoon in a walk-in clinic to deal with the fact that my c-section incision was starting to get red and angry. They finally removed the staples, (yes, they're actually staples!) and we'll hope that it doesn't turn into a major infection. Had to take Sam with me, which is about the saddest place to take a 7 day old baby ever.

And then, today the wee angel, Hannah has fallen ill, so we lost her help this morning after having done a happy dance about her imminent arrival. Sooo sad.

Chris is trying to get this story done while looking after all of us. I'm trying to figure out parenting two little ones with a major surgery a week behind me and doctor's orders not to lift anything heavier than Sam for a month. Charley is so not down with that rule.

On top of all this, there's another major storm coming tonight and tomorrow and nowhere to put the snow (since the banks beside our sidewalk are over 8 feet high already).

Chris is trying to decide if going on assignment is going to be more or less restful than being here. I say, it's in Florida in the sun, so that's better than here.

The boys are being soo good though, even though Sammy manages to pee all over himself, his clothes, his blankets and me about 700 times a day. He's wearing all the old, stained hand-me-downs from boys before, and I think "how the 2nd born suffers compared to the first!". They don't get any new clothes (except from you, lovely Cheryl!) or any new anything because everything is already here, worn but serviceable. Oh well, he doesn't seem to mind!

Okay, that's about enough pissin' and moanin' for one post, as they say.

No new photos. Haven't had the time/opportunity. I'll do my best to get some new shots up in the next day or so. (Hopefully, by the time Granny Al arrives again on Sunday, the soundtrack will have changed to "I'm walking on sunshine" and I'll be soooo much more chipper).

Thanks for reading a rant from a delirious new/old mom. Smooches to all.