on strep throat.

When Peter was four weeks old, Matt had strep throat. When Peter was nine weeks old, Matt had strep throat again. Ambrose got it, too. So did I. So, we all took antibiotics. I hate antibiotics. Courtesy of the aforementioned medication, Peter developed thrush. No sooner had I killed the thrush did I wake up today with a terrible sore throat and a headache. I have strep throat. Again. I was contemplating going without antibiotics and letting my body duke this thing out itself. This would just mean that I would probably spend a week or so being very sick (and since strep usually involves throwing up for me, I mean very sick). It would not be the end of the world, but I have a really hard time fathoming how I would take care of my two little kids being that sick. Also, I would then be running the risk of coming down with something more serious--scarlet fever or rheumatoid fever. Rare, but not rare enough to not matter. It was really a hard decision. I guess I'm just going to slaughter my body with another round of antibiotics. I have no idea where we keep getting it, and I really hope this is the end. It's moments like these when I realize that my body is not my own, really, at all.

things that i'm loving this summer.

1. Mojitos. Hubby and I crafted the perfect refreshing cocktail, and we plan to drink them all summer. 2. My clothesline. I know, it sounds dopey. But, this is the first house we've lived in with a yard, and I'm taking full advantage of the ancient clothesline hooks that someone set up here a long time ago. There's something really relaxing about line drying clothes, plus it's a nice excuse to take the boys outside. Not to mention that it's an awesome money-saver. By decreasing the use of our dryer alone, I managed to shave more than $30 off our gas bill. 3. This fantastic purse I found on my latest thrift store excursion. 4. This heap of mei tai pieces that has been sitting in my sewing corner since Peter was born. Kristin wrote an awesome tutorial on how to make a Scandinavian mei tai, but the last one I made I gave away. This one will have padded shoulder and waist straps and a sleep hood. Not to mention the gorgeous Amy Butler fabric. I desperately want to wear it, but each time I get an opportunity to work on it, I think of something more pressing that needs to get done, or someone wakes up from their nap. I'm making it a goal to spend a few minutes on it each day. 5. Having a fat baby. I love, love, love fat babies. In fact, the whole time I was pregnant I prayed that my baby would a) be another boy, b) have brown eyes and c) that he would be a fat baby. Would I have loved him if he'd come out completely different? Of course. Coincidence? I think not. 6. The way Ambrose has started walking around the house, arms raised in question, asking, "Ipod? Ipod?" As though he gets to have it, even if he does know where it is.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Okay, so maybe it's not that bad. I feel pretty competent at changing diapers, nursing babies, tidying toys, giving baths and naps, and putting babies to bed. But, there are days when I just can't shake this feeling of being a little girl with her dolls. Only now, the dolls are getting bigger, louder, and are requiring more and more decisive action and discipline on my part. And that's when I feel like an amateur, which I pretty much am. Last Thursday, I spent most of my day wearing a pair of strappy black heels around the house. Mind you, I have no taste for shoes. I don't like wearing them, I certainly don't like shopping for them, and even less do I like buying them. These shoes are the nicest pair I own, only for special occasions. Most of the time I wear a pair of black flip flops that go with everything in the summer, and in the winter it's boots or a pair of mock-Birkenstock's. I'd prefer to go without completely. So anyway, back to last Thursday. I had a ton of laundry to do. We all went through a round of strep throat a few days before, and I was neurotically washing all of our bedding, plus catching up on the laundry that had accumulated while I was sick. I was getting a little frustrated at how little I was getting accomplished compared to how much I was working. The morning had been a series of spills, diaper changes, nursings, and other toddler and infant-type interruptions. So when I noticed Ambrose starting to rifle through the shoes in my closet, I thought, "Good, that should keep him occupied for awhile." Instead, however, he emerged from the closet carrying the aforementioned heels, one in each hand, shouting, "Mama! Thew!" (translate: thew=shoe). "Yeah, great. You found some shoes." I replied, unenthusiastically. He proceeded to sit down at my feet and began trying to take my flip-flops off. "Thew. Mama. Thew." I was a little humored that he was so intent on me wearing these shoes, so I put them on. He giggled, and said, "Niiiiiiiiiiiiii!" (translate: nice). He then ran off to check out the semi truck that was driving down our street. I slipped the shoes off as soon as he left the room. When he returned a few moments later, he shrugged his shoulders saying, "Thew? Thew? Mama thew?". And then he dug those darn things out of the closet again. And I wore them. Funny thing was, he didn't forget about them. He routinely kept checking to make sure I was wearing the correct shoes, and each time he would giggle and say, "Niiiii!" It was just so cute. It made my day, and I'm not at all sure why. Now I just hope he outgrows the lisp and the shoe fascination before he gets too much older. :-) So, I know why you're here. Here are the pictures you've been waiting for. (Oh! This was so cute! Matt told Ambrose to go read a book to Peter...and he did. Make Way for Ducklings...he just stood there quacking and pointing at pictures of ducks.)