1. Three Thought Thursday comes to you live from The Woodlands, TX this week. Technically we're supposed to be travelling home today. But of course, we're not. You might remember this incident from last year. The one where we travelled to Houston for Kolbe's Shriner's check-up, got stuck here because of a snow storm in Dallas and went through a bout with the stomach bug with Rudy while here.
Funny how history loves to repeat itself.
We're here for Kolbe's Shriner's check-up. No snow storm in Dallas, but it looks like we're staying an extra day. 'Cause guess who decided to barf all over the kitchen table last night? You got it. Rudy. He's had horrible gas ever since we arrived and some not-so-savory diapers as well, so we really weren't surprised when the ginger ale and banana decided to reappear. Ugh! Maybe I need to call Shriners back and demand that we not come to a check-up in January next year. We're cursed!
2. Beyond taking care of a sickly little one, I've been somewhat ailing throughout this trip as well. I'm not sure if I cracked a rib, bruised as rib, pulled some major muscle or what. Yes, leave it to me to wound myself on an airplane of all places. As our plane to Houston was taking off (you know, the full speed pressing-you-back-in-the-seat phase of the flight), the lady across the aisle from me who was holding her baby glanced over and said, "Oh no! She just dropped her paci under your seat! We have to have that!" The mama in me jumped at her sense of urgency and quickly leaned over the metal arm rest to reach for the paci. I could see it under the seat...just inches from my reach. With the speed of the plane fighting against me, I decided to go for it and stretch just a tiny bit farther to see if I could get it. Until I heard a pop in my ribs that were pressed against the metal arm rest. I shot up instantly while the man behind me finally made the effort to lean forward and easily grab the paci for the distressed mom. Immediately I knew something wasn't right. And it hasn't been ever since. I haven't gone to a doctor or anything, because really, even if I did have a cracked rib, there's nothing they can do about it. And it wouldn't exactly be easy to take x-rays being pregnant. It has gotten worse and worse as the days have progressed, to the point where even little movements hurt, which leads me to believe it might be more muscular. Dealing with it has really taken it out of me. I'll probably go to the doctor once we're back in Lubbock, especially since that bone density test a while back showed my less than stellar bone strength. But again, ugh! Why does it always have to be something!?!
3. Time for another listen into the ever-so-entertaining musings of our Kolbe (whose Shriner's appointment went fabulous, by the way):
It's so funny how conversational Kolbe is becoming. Mark and I went to dinner the other night and returned back to my parents' house to find Kolbe on the couch with my mom.
Me: What have you been doing, Kolb?
Kolbe: Oh nothing. Just hanging out.
Me: Really. Just hanging out, huh.
Kolbe: Yeah. You know, just doing stuff. Sittin' round.
Or the way he perceives things:
(One day Mark bathed Kolbe in our bathroom and apparently made the mistake of just using our shampoo instead of the baby stuff. Of course, it "burned" his eyes...)
Me: (grabbing the baby wash) Come on Kolb, let's wash up.
Kolb: Is that one hot?
Me: The soap?
Kolb: Yeah, is it hot?
Me: No, it's just soap. It's not hot.
Kolb: But will it burn?
Or the fact that he's well aware of "rules" and tries to create some of his own:
Kolb: Look, Yah-wuh. (Laura)
Me: Uh, excuse me? You call me "Mama." Only Pinkie and Pa can call me that here.
Kolb: How 'bout I call you "Mama" when your hair is down like this and I call you "Yah-wuh" when your hair is in a ponytail.
As always, sheesh!
No comments:
Post a Comment