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May. 11th, 2007 03:51 pmSomehow I think I've developed a post-partum allergy to Tombstone pizza. The two times I've had it in the past four weeks, I've felt horribly ill right after (and Jason hasn't), and I've had other pizza (once), other things with mozzarella cheese, and other things with Italian-spiced tomato sauce, and not felt sick, and haven't felt sick this way any other time these four weeks either. Well, I'm rounding, I felt a bit nauseous EXACTLY four weeks ago, but that's because I was in early labor. Anyway, speaking of other people with digestion problems, Sammy got through his last round of gas bubbles on my knee and has fallen asleep again. wish I knew what the culprit was in his case. Don't think it's dairy, because I have had lots of dairy all the time since the beginning and he didn't have a problem then. Gyros? The cucumber sauce maybe? I got a gyros kit the other day and have had that for dinner twice this week. Mom W said she couldn't eat any leafy vegetables when feeding bethany (you think that would've been with JASON). I thought it might be the oatmeal I had for breakfast the other day, judging by when he was fussy, but I didn't have oatmeal today. Ugh, I hope whatever's causing MY current discomfort doesn't make it into the milk-- then there will be NOTHING anyone can do!
Possibly I overworked myself this morning. I finally dragged my butt (and Sammy's-- and a quilt for the ground) to the backyard to work on the vegetable bed. Weeding is probably one of those things you're not supposed to do before six weeks, but oh well, it's Mothers Day weekend and the tomatoes HAVE, just HAVE to go in. Says me. I mean to pick some up tomorrow! But perhaps a cross between physical exertion in improperly premature ways and Tombstone pizza is what is making me feel sick. I seem to recall wondering if I'd been doing too much when I felt sick the last time, too. I forget what I'd been doing that day though.
Sunday is Sammy's baptism. I have successfully gotten my siblings to be godparents. Don't know who I'll get for the next kid, because I'm out of siblings, and my two closest --only--practicing Catholic friends live in faraway states like Georgia and North Dakota. Perhaps one or the other will live closer by the time the next kid comes along. Dang Catholicism. The priest even said when we went in for the baptism prep meeting that the whole point of godparents was to officially ensure that the kid had someone else who would take care of them should the parents die in a plague or so forth, back in the middle ages, so you'd think they'd be more open about who can be godparents. Eh, we'll worry about that when the next kid comes along. At least three years.
He makes such funny faces when he sleeps. Well, he makes funny faces when he's awake too. He looks more like Jason all the time, which is funny because I always heard that babies look the most like their fathers at birth, as a kind of natural paternity test, and then gradually look more like their mothers (like my cousin Zoe, when she was born, it was like "WHOA, look, it's a Blankenship!" but since then she looks a lot more like her mom. Though she still looks like a Blankenship. Just not as shockingly). Actually, it's the top half of Sammy's face that looks like Jason, and the bottom half-- well, the mouth and chin-- is mine. This is a good combination, apparently. It makes him look far cuter than either of us did as babies.
Anyway, I'll go before he wakes up and I end up doing something else for a couple hours and forgetting to post this. Have a nice day.
Possibly I overworked myself this morning. I finally dragged my butt (and Sammy's-- and a quilt for the ground) to the backyard to work on the vegetable bed. Weeding is probably one of those things you're not supposed to do before six weeks, but oh well, it's Mothers Day weekend and the tomatoes HAVE, just HAVE to go in. Says me. I mean to pick some up tomorrow! But perhaps a cross between physical exertion in improperly premature ways and Tombstone pizza is what is making me feel sick. I seem to recall wondering if I'd been doing too much when I felt sick the last time, too. I forget what I'd been doing that day though.
Sunday is Sammy's baptism. I have successfully gotten my siblings to be godparents. Don't know who I'll get for the next kid, because I'm out of siblings, and my two closest --only--practicing Catholic friends live in faraway states like Georgia and North Dakota. Perhaps one or the other will live closer by the time the next kid comes along. Dang Catholicism. The priest even said when we went in for the baptism prep meeting that the whole point of godparents was to officially ensure that the kid had someone else who would take care of them should the parents die in a plague or so forth, back in the middle ages, so you'd think they'd be more open about who can be godparents. Eh, we'll worry about that when the next kid comes along. At least three years.
He makes such funny faces when he sleeps. Well, he makes funny faces when he's awake too. He looks more like Jason all the time, which is funny because I always heard that babies look the most like their fathers at birth, as a kind of natural paternity test, and then gradually look more like their mothers (like my cousin Zoe, when she was born, it was like "WHOA, look, it's a Blankenship!" but since then she looks a lot more like her mom. Though she still looks like a Blankenship. Just not as shockingly). Actually, it's the top half of Sammy's face that looks like Jason, and the bottom half-- well, the mouth and chin-- is mine. This is a good combination, apparently. It makes him look far cuter than either of us did as babies.
Anyway, I'll go before he wakes up and I end up doing something else for a couple hours and forgetting to post this. Have a nice day.
