Gross. Paul's pre-deployment leave ended today.
Carly had to go back to school after her two-week spring break (we took the week before her official spring break to go to Philadelphia).
I have a doctor's appointment and Bree is going to friend school for a little while this morning.
Overall...it's just a regular day, but not.
Paul woke the girls up at 5:30 to say good morning and to remind them that he was just going to short work and he'll be back home tonight.
Carly cried and fussed over every little thing getting ready for school today and instead of her usual "Bye Mommy I love you" I got "YOU are the MEANEST MOM in the WORLD." Slam door. That was because I wasn't letting her take her bracelet to school...which is a normal rule.
My OB appt is the first of the once-a-week appointments. I'm doing a really good job not thinking about Skype and there are lots and lots of my friends who have done this before. I'm about as ready as I can be and know to look out for being home with a newborn and not her dad. If by some random chance you are a local friend and you are reading this (I DO MEAN YOU!!!!) but I don't think there are any of those...come seeeeee me. My labors last a sweet forever and I would love some (and this is very, very important because I swear if anyone in that room is acting nervous stressy they are getting kicked out) calm, funny, positive but not too perky, relaxed, ice-crunching company.
Bree, God love her, is Bree. She's told me about five hundred times that Daddy is going to short work so I shouldn't worry.
Anyway, that is our Monday.
Also I lost my phone.
Also we can't find the hardware for the crib and I had to beg and plead Paul not to start putting wood screws in everywhere. Can you imagine???? Thankfully he listened to me, even though he thinks I'm nuts (I'm not. Doing it the right way is important, hello). Our poor third child with her beat-up crib and dresser. The furniture itself is awesome and would have easily survived three children...it's not the kids though, it's the seven moves this poor crib and dresser have had to make. Seven! No wonder the legs are all crazy and the hardware got lost. My word.