Adventures in TTC

Midnight, after a long day working for the hubs and a long day of taking care of a toddler for me. D has finally gone to sleep, snoring away in his crib. It's time to get it on. And not because we want to. Since we have finally decide to TTC (try to conceive) for a second.
Don't get me wrong, we really want a second. I really want the chance to have a full term pregnancy. I want a little bitty screaming, eating, pooping machine. Ok not really, but I want another baby dang-it!
Ok so back to midnight. Hubs back hurts, I'm exhausted.  There is no mood, whatsoever, other than "let's get this over with".  I will be the first to admit there was a 50% chance I would fall asleep while DTD. But I didn't! So yay me.
I proceed to say good night, to tired to do more than put on the basics, ie underwear. Hubs pulls out his MacBook and does....whatever he does on that thing. And I begin to think. Now at this point I'm in that "so tired you slur like you're drunk" mode. I proclaim that it's unfair that men choose the sex. The woman should have a say too. But then what happens if you get two y's instead of an xx or xy? I lay and ponder this thought, and begin to cackle uncontrollably.

Maybe we should wait a little while more. I could really use some more sleep

Awesome body love song

I'm just going to leave this here. I ran into this song yesterday and it is great. Body love all around!

This is one of those religious post

 Disclaimer: This is not going to be a usual thing. I won't try to make you all read about my beliefs. You do your thing and I'm going to do mine. If we believe the same thing then cool! If not, well I still like you as a person. Unless your a jerkface/twatwaffle. In that case we aren't friends.

I just have to share an amazing story with you because I know it will bring you joy!

A few nights ago a woman in one of my mom groups posted about her trying to conceive for over a year and that her period was supposed to start that day but it didn't. She said she didn't want to test because she didn't want to be disappointed. I sat in bed for almost an hour with an overwhelming feeling that I needed to send her kind words and encouragement and to let her know that God hadn't forgotten about her. As soon as I did I felt so at peace and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning she messaged me back saying she had cried reading it because she had been laying awake praying for guidance and just telling God she didn't know what to do. This morning she sent me a message with a picture of a test and I told her that I honestly thought it looked positive but that she should retest just to make sure. Well she just sent me a picture and she is indeed pregnant!

I feel so amazing right now, and so amazed in the ways God works. Ok, on with your nightly activities.

A plague has hit

My poor kid. If he knew what the Bubonic plague was he would swear he had it.

We spent a majority of the night bouncing between being held and sitting on the floor. The final act was a real mommy tear jerker though. Blood curdling screams paired with limp noodled back arching. He wouldn't even let me pick him up. I was heart broken that I couldn't help my baby. So after 45 minutes I woke up Hubby and we speed dressed (we could have won an award for that shit) and threw a blanket over D to take him out to the car. We grabbed the diaper bag, grabbed Dragon (because we can't go ANYWHERE without Dragon) and started to walk out the door. And don'tcha know? He had finally worn himself out and stopped crying.
We decided to give him a bottle and, now this is where you clutch your pearls sanctimommies, put him to bed and made plans to call the doctor in the morning. This was at 5am.

So the day rolls by and we find ourselves sauntering into the doctors office. The official title holders, the "Been there, done that" champs. The people who secretly live in the office after hours. Yep, we're that family. Hello's are said and pleasantries are exchanged. Paperwork is initialed, signed, and dated with the wrong date because well shit, what day is it again? The receptionist all agree that no, he doesn't look sick. But does he ever? He babbles and smiles and is given a sucker. The usual "oh these people again" routine. We sit in well waiting because there's no one else, and after giving the snot bucket in sick waiting the 5th degree I decide not to battle that demon. And yes you can clutch your pearls there as well. We chase around a runaway baby/toddler and are surprised to actually be called back early. That NEVER happens. Like ever. We tinkle our damn panties when we go in AT our appointment time.

So now the nurse is taking his stats and he flirts. The doctor comes in and checks him out and he screams. Right ear "good, beautiful", left ear "eeehh, not the worst I've seen but", throat "and he's got tonsillitis."
Excuse me, WHAT?!?!?
My poor boy. My sweet, poor boy. No wonder he was so miserable last night. I start thinking that maybe we should have taken him to the ER. A prescription is sent in. I verify that this is, in fact, the one that turns his poop an almost blood red color. Something we learned the hard way the first time he took it. I congratulate him on a new illness to add to the list. Hubby thinks I'm serious. I'm not serious. And we head off to Target, where I guilt myself into buying him not just puffs, but animal crackers, mac'n cheese, and Teddy Grahams. Other than feeling like he could cause a massive epidemic, like Contagion massive, he is seriously winning today.

But seriously, am I the only one who feels like if a kid is sick they should at least ACT sick while at the doctors? Instead of making their parents look insane? "I swear doc, he really WAS sick!"

Unofficial First Post

Can I do that? Well I'm going to because I'M AN AUNT! Well ok, not technically. But my best friend is and since she's practically my sister I'M AN AUNT! Holy shit this is FANTASTIC!