To be more accurate, I have plenty of time to read blogs at 3 in the morning, but I can't post or comment very well. I don't seem to be one of those moms who can type and feed a baby at the same time. It's all I can do to maneuver the mouse around Facebook while not dropping the baby on his head.
But then I saw that Margaret got her little man's birth story up and Nicholas is only 3 days older than Septimus. Also, Grace is hosting a birth story link up and has posted approximately 37 other times since having baby Theo like 12 minutes minutes ago. Clearly they have grown a third arm strictly for baby holding. That's the only explanation.
Septimus' story is 75% finished, but I can't seem to find the time to bring it on home. While trying to find some motivation, I scrolled through my archives to read the other kids' birth stories. Guess what? If you don't count the post where I wrote birth story haiku, the only birth story on this whole blog is Baby's.
I felt sure that I had posted longer versions of at least Mopsy's and possibly Bun's, but apparently that only happened in my rich interior life. I do, however, have a draft of Mopsy's birth story that is 75% finished. Sound familiar?
But for today, I am doing some quick takes. Because that makes total sense.
Jen is back to hosting Quick Takes this week, despite her serious medical emergency and prescription bills that rival the national debt. And I complain about not being able to pee with the door closed.
I did have to pee with 4 - FOUR- other people crammed into the powder room with me, with 3 of them crying fortissimo and one completely naked (not me!).
But still, lungs riddled with dangerous clots definitely trumps peeing with an audience so throw some prayers her way if you can.
Speaking of prayers, it seems like every time I check the blogs these days there are mamas in crisis, either in labor or with their sweet little ones. And so many of my friends on Facebook have begged for prayers for their pregnancies, children, and marriages.
All the happy families I know are encountering difficulties, and I find myself mentally girding myself for some kind of terrible trial, even though I don't want to contemplate it at all. It's scary.
St. Michael, the Archangel, defend us.
On a completely frivolous note, we finally got back to the Abbey!
You don't watch? Seriously? Oh, then just skip this.
How are things around the house, you ask?
|Baby gets her "Braveheart" on.|
|Septimus gets bumped by Darth.|
Let's just say the inmates are running the asylum.
Actually, it's not as bad as all that. Septimus is a pretty calm baby for the most part, just doing what new babies do. He loves sleeping in the day and hanging out wide awake at 3. In the AM. I think that's why most people tell me, "you look good . . . you know, for having 7 kids and everything."
Thanks? I think?
The kids are doing very well with Septimus so far, even Baby. She's kind of a bruiser so I thought she might be too rough with the little guy, but she is more of a gentle giant. She calls him "my baby" and kisses him all the time.
I know all the sibling rivalry will come in due time, but Mopsy used to sit on Baby, so I already consider this a step up.
SIX and SEVEN
There is no six or seven . . . It's chow time and I can hear the smallest native getting very restless.
Have a great weekend, my friends -- and get some sleep for me!