Damn it. It IS getting better.

This too shall something-something

Big win of the week: Baby E. is no longer crying during the majority of his diaper changes. He has calmed down considerably, and seems to have finally realized what a fascinating world surrounds him, showing a particular preference for sunlight and reflective thingies. Also, he naps! He sleeps for six-plus hours at night! He’s still unbelievably gassy, and fusses a great deal. But he’s improving! I hope that this means I too am improving. I have cried much less myself. I have also only had to have two to three pep talks with myself about being a mom and what that means. So, improvements are abounding here in the land of New Parentia.

When Corgis Attack

In other news, A. and I and Baby E. and our dog were set upon by a pair of domesticated-yet-incredibly-territorial corgis last weekend. Our pup got bit and bruised, as did A.:

IMG_1475
Looks heart-shaped, doesn’t it? I told him that it wasn’t a bad thing–dogs only bite heart-shaped when they like you. Like boys picking on you on the playground. Right? RIGHT.

 

IMG_1479
The cone of shame is such a misnomer here. Cone of pain, perhaps?

 

Luckily they are both okay overall. Pup is leaving her stitches alone, so she no longer needs the cone, thank goodness. In the heat of the moment, I was no help — I had Baby E. strapped to my chest in a wrap, his little legs and feet dangling like low-hanging fruit for needle-sharp corgi teeth, so after a few ineffective/missed kicks, I ran back to the dogs’ owner’s residence and got him to come get them. In a happy outcome, the guy offered with absolutely no prompting to pay for our vet bill. I know that should be a given — but there are plenty of idiots around our neighborhood who let their dogs run free and hand-wave our concerns with “Don’t worry, Mack/Roscoe/Fluffy is friendly!” while our pup goes into an aggressive foaming frenzy at the end of her leash, and Mack/Roscoe/Fluffy circles us and barks and barks and barks. If we kicked their dog in the ribs, we’d probably hear from their lawyer.

An Old Lady Am I

I am, I am. Last night I went to the grocery store for treats and came home with a bucket (Yes, a BIG BUCKET) of chocolate-vanilla ice cream, a bag of spice drops, and some dishwashing tablets. A. made fun of me for the rest of the night. Whatever, I enjoyed my many-colored gummy spices. The manufacturers really know how to capture the chemical aftertaste of clove.

 

 

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