An Interesting Start

Well, it's a holiday... Martin Luther King, Jr day... a holiday here for schools. But, alas, Bob is down at school working. See, he's not actually hired by the school district. His position runs through the county office. Therefore, he's required to work 183 days instead of 175. This means that, if he doesn't want to work in the summer time, he has to put in those days throughout the year. So... today is one of those days. (Although he's planning on finding a summer job that he can enjoy... anyone want to me by back up coach in case he's not around?... He's considering, with my permission - can you believe that - fighting fires for the summer... he loves it)

At first I was dreading the day, but the kids are actually fairly mellow right now. We've done two loads of sheets and blankets already, a load of dishes and even had a "special" breakfast. During the making of breakfast, I was trying to keep laundry going and get the fire going. Let's just say the fire has been less than cooperative today - though I think we may have finally gotten it going.

During all the time on my feet (much later in the morning than normal for me to eat) I felt the blood drain from my face, got weak, felt clammy and immediately found a chair. That didn't seem to help (and yes, I'd been "snacking" along the way so I wasn't totally empty). As things seemed to be getting worse in the chair, instead of better, and I was going to need to roll the balls (we were having Danish Pancake Balls), I had Gabi get a piece of paper and wrote down Bob's cell number. I told her if I passed out and didn't come to right away to call Daddy immediately. I don't know that I would have been quite as concerned (I'd dealt with this kind of thing before) but last night, most of the night, I'd had bad, sharp, stabbing like pains that were not familiar to me in the area of my uterus. Position seemed to help a little, so I went to bed last night. But knowing that had happened and now I was suddenly feeling so off, I figured the oldest child ought to be prepared to deal with the emergency (call Dad and get him home to deal with it).

I mentioned I had not had any protein yet this morning, and Peter immediately hopped up and said "Mommy, you can eat a cheese stick. Cheese has protein. I'll get you one." Ran over to the fridge, grabbed a cheese stick and gave it to me. The best part (aside from my wonderfully sweet and intelligent, not yet 3 year old) was that I only got through half the cheese stick when all my symptoms went away. I finished it, of course, and things have been fine since!

I guess baby's ready for more protein! (And not going to threaten to spit it back up)