Boring Update

Had a wonderful day today, including 2 hours to myself to work on filing paperwork, calling stupid insurance and billing people (no, we do not owe you $700, thankyouverymuch), and general organization-related things that usually get passed on so I can have a nap instead. Thanks very much to my amazing new mother's helper for playing with James for those two hours. And then thanks also to my wonderful friend Elise, mother of said mother's helper and three other girls, who then came over, had lunch with us, helped do my dishes, and then played with us outside for like 3 hours! Hooray for sunshine.

Now I am enjoying a few moments at the library by myself. Excellent. Except I missed my nap. I am le tired.

Still sad about Gromit, but just giving it up to whatever happens. Thanks everyone for the kind words and lol Megan about calm and gentle feelings and their likely receptacles.

Hobo Mama, I think I'm going with my goat. Touring a birth facility? Birth registry? Meh. And I do in fact mean for that to sound like my goat bleating. She does that a lot. Hungry lactating mama! Meanwhile, crap! I forgot about all those ever-so-important things to do. My midwife actually just told me that "the only thing yoyu have to worry about right now is what you're going to do about birth control after the baby's born." I just laughed and laughed.

Oh, side note, ultrasound the other day was fun. James hates the doctor appointments but liked the U/S because he gets to see the baby "on the hospital's TV." And Baby Brother is something like 5 pounds right now! Wow, time flies. That's why I gotta run. Wait, I can't run. I meant waddle.

Fin.

Thoughts

We've taken to calling the baby goat B. J., short for Baby Jesus, until we can think of something that goes a little better with Clover.

I have so much to do before Baby Brother arrives. Slightly panicky but oh well.

I feel like a bad dog mommy. I've never posted a picture of Gromit up here, I think, and we have several but almost none loaded onto the computer. So I'll add one and just say that was at Thanksgiving, and now he's six months old and he weighs about 80 pounds. And he would be a really good dog, except he's not right now and we don't know what to do about that because we've tried everything and we only have a few more weeks until Baby Brother's birth and we can't risk aggressive dogness around our new little precious. But seriously. Don't suggest that we didn't try everything. That would be hurtful and also a lie. Just pray for him or something so we can figure out what's wrong.

Everything besides the dog problem (which, btw, came up just about 2 weeks after his neuter, and if you know anything about THAT then yeah, let me know) has been blasted out of my brain. I HATE feeling like a dog failure. I HATE the idea of giving away my son's "sweet little poochie-poochie-poo."

But he's not sweet and he's not little and yeah. I guess by putting this up here I'm inviting criticism in a way but seriously. It's just because we've tried everything and I'm so frustrated and strung-out about this dog problem. Which really did seem to come out of nowhere. Except for the neuter.

Is he mad at us for rendering him infertile or what?