Martin’s brother is here with his girls, so there are 9.5 people in the house at this very moment. And I love it. The noise. The energy. Air mattresses and blankets everywhere. And there will be even more visitors coming thru in the weeks and months ahead.
Love having so many of my favorite people around me.
A quiet moment from earlier this morning. They were adding Elton John hits to the kids’ music playlist after L discovered his “Too Low for Zero” album.
As we are trying to get the house in order, Martin wasn’t thrilled when these two dragged their new “spaceship” into the living room in the middle of our clean-up efforts. “That needs to be out with the trash!” exclaimed Martin. “But we are RECYCLING it!” his daughter responded. “We are saving the planet!” Well, you can’t argue with that!
With Martin away for a business trip, and our nanny visiting family in the United States, I am completely on my own with the kids this week. Just on Monday morning alone, I dealt with a missing permission slip crisis, a tick discovery followed by tick removal that sounded like major surgery without anesthesia, school drop-off, and a “sprint” to my own appointments and meetings at my full-time job until I had to dash back home to get the girls to their spring music concert.
At today’s appointment, my doctor mentioned that Martin is the only dad amongst her patients who comes to nearly every appointment. Like most of my other appointments, Martin accompanied me.
He napped in a chair across from the bed where I was monitored during a non-stress test (no judging – I dozed off, too), and he watched intently during the ultrasound, asking questions as the doctor took measurements of FestBaby’s head, stomach, and heart.
That’s when the doctor made her observation.
“If it is the first child, I see the dads often in the beginning, but then it tapers off. The second child, I see the dad maybe once for the gender ultrasound, if at all. It is great you come, even when this is your fourth.”
Once again, I was spoiled in celebration of my birth, although everything was much more subdued compared to last year’s “Best Weekend Ever.”
When I woke up, the kids brought me breakfast in bed. Miss C and our nanny Wynter lovingly prepared a diabetic-friendly breakfast tray of eggs and toast, beautifully granished with flowers from our garden. There was a birthday card, too, full of messages from everyone in our house.