Queen of Rambles

I picked Mike up from the train station at a little past 8. I am not liking this week. In fact, I am HATING this week. I should just be happy he came home at all. The other guys just grabbed a hotel room so they can be there bright and early in the morning, but Mike has a shorter commute and a less patient wife. I should have went to Oregon this week. I told Mike I was going to call the airlines and have them change my tickets so I can go tomorrow, but he didn’t believe me.

I had a ranty post all worked up in my head. I get so tired of people asking me for advice when they have absolutely no intention of following it. It’s one thing when you are looking for different options and don’t think my option is best, but it’s another when you already know what you are going to do and are just seeking validation for your plan that you already know is hare-brained.

Next day. . .

Obviously I didn’t get very far with that post. MisterE decided that crying for two hours was way more fun than listening to his mother type. MisterE the Mystery is such a fitting name. The day before he slept all day and all night. I couldn’t wake him up. Yesterday he refused to sleep and I couldn’t keep him down for more than thirty minutes at a time. He finally zonked out at 11:30. I didn’t think it would last long since he refused to eat. He acted like my nipple was made out of shards of hot glass. He didn’t eat till 4 am. Strange little boy.

This morning he’s just been as happy as a clam, though he needs to take some serious lessons from Emily Post on proper breastfeeding etiquette. It is not very polite to keep delatching yourself and looking around, but it is even less polite to forget to swallow and drip milk all over everything. I knew he was still hungry because after a few seconds of looking all around, he would latch on to any part of my flesh he could find and suck like a mad man.

I got my nasty bug-eyed mole removed yesterday. I thought she was just going to clip it off at the base, but it looks like she took a teeny-tiny melonballer and scooped out a teeny-tiny ball of my flesh.

I have lots more to say, but MisterE doesn’t want me to say it. He wants me to play Buzzing Bee with him instead, so I guess this is farewell. How dramatic. With Mike’s crazy schedule I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to post next.

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 26th, 2006 at 7:47 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.