Oliver is 2 months old, and if I’m being honest, we’re still in survival mode over here. It doesn’t help that our house has been a cesspool of germs for the past month, and no matter what I do, our family cannot seem to shake the sickness that’s been going around.
I’ve literally been to the pediatrician so many times in the past two months, that when I showed up for Oliver’s sick appointment last week, I was certain that they were going to alert the authorities. I’ve been such a frequent flyer that when I call I’m basically like, “Hey, Brenda. It’s Colleen. Yes, again.”
I called up there frantically crying last Monday because I was walking to the car with Jack in my arms and I tripped on something in our garage and we both fell crashing to the ground. Jack smacked his head on the concrete floor, and I was certain I’d damaged his brain. Has anyone else ever unintentionally hurt their child? Oh my God, it was the worst thing ever. Truly, he cried for 10 minutes and I cried for a hour. Thank the good Lord, Jack apparently has a thick skull and is perfectly fine. The following day, a bruised hip reminded me that I’m almost 30.
In other news, my house is in a constant state of havoc, and it seems as though I’m constantly running from one mess to the next, never actually capable of cleaning up anything left in the wake of Hurricane Jack. To give you a frame of reference, a major victory last week was when I did laundry, folded it, and put it away all in the same day.
I’m also at the point where I walked downstairs wearing my “good” yoga pants and a clean “leisurewear” sweater and my sweet husband said “you look so nice.” That’s how low I’ve been setting the bar these past few weeks, folks.
The good thing, though, is that we’re all actually really happy. Sure, life is a little messy and germy at the moment, it’s pretty darn great.
As always, thanks for extending me grace and support during this period of transition!