We are beginning our official Fall Break today. I plan to give at least the downstairs a thorough cleaning this week, then we should have three or four days for more amusing pastimes. Aside for the grumblings over the cleaning, which won’t actually take long with so many of us attacking the job at once, the children are glad. Except Tommy. He looked up at me during Mass yesterday and did not whisper, “Is today a school day?” He comes to school for approximately 10 minutes at a time, but he was genuinely crestfallen to hear a negative.
Poor little Tommy has been sick the past couple of days, with a cough and a fever. He threw up a couple of times, but I think that was a combination of the soda he was drinking and the strength of the coughing, not an actual stomach bug. We set up a cot in our room so I could keep an eye on him though the night, and his fever broke sometime before he woke on Sunday morning. He sat right up, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and started talking, talking, talking, and did not stop until I made him take a nap with me. Making up for lost time.
Penelope also landed herself in the emergency this past week: She fell on the stairs and hit her back, just below her shoulder blade, so hard that she couldn’t breathe. An hour later, after she’d calmed down, she still couldn’t breathe well, and it was getting late, and I have insurance, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. So off we went. By the time the ER doc saw her, I knew she was okay. She’d napped in my lap and was actually pretty chipper when she woke up. The nurse said her oxygen levels were perfect, and the doctor confirmed that her lungs were perfect and there was no sign of a broken rib. So, just deep bruising. Thanks be to God. (She’s good as new by now.)
Tomorrow, I have an ultrasound – a level 2, woohoo! I’ve been feeling the baby move for a little while now, much to my relief. The children have been asking daily if they can feel it from the outside yet, and I’ve been checking every night. Last night, just I settled into bed, I felt it kicking, and I reached down to feel it. It was pressed right against my skin; I could feel the shape of it, and then, yes! “You can feel it!” I exclaimed into the darkness, and Davey instantly reached over. I put his hand in the right spot and in just a few more seconds, the baby kicked again. Friends, I don’t care at all about anything tomorrow’s ultrasound may find wrong with my baby. I’m just so glad that it’s alive.
In other pregnancy-related news, people – women – keep asking me if I always carry this small. I do not feel small, and I have never felt small, but people – women – have always said that I don’t look big enough to be as far along as I am. I just shrug and take it as a compliment, right up there with that other, more pleasing, remark: “You don’t look old enough to have seven children!” Yes, I like that one much better. 🙂
Outside on the farm, we got 6″ of rain in less than 24 hours this weekend. The pond is full, the barn is mud, the outdoor poultry are soggy, and the temperatures promptly decided to drop into the forties. It’s been so warm, the cows haven’t begun to put on their winter fur, and my chickens are growing more slowly than I would have liked and won’t be ready to process for a few more weeks. I hope we get a warm day at the appropriate time, because poultry processing is a wet job, and nobody likes to be wet and cold. We still have plenty of grass in the fields and are only feeding a little bit of hay in the evenings when we tuck the cows in. The pig, too. She gets a little hay for bedding/snacking.
All is well. Which isn’t to say anything is going smoothly, but hardship builds character, you know? I’m naturally optimistic, anyway. There’s always a way forward; nothing is hopeless.