No news today about my friend that went to the ER. Apparently they sent her home around 8pm last night, still with no diagnosis. The kids were just about to get into bed, so the dad decided it would be best to keep D over here last night.
Thank God Kurt was home. I would have pulled my hair out in frustration if he weren’t here to help. It’s not that they’re bad kids; not at all. It’s just that D isn’t mine; I haven’t had nearly three years of having two children to cope with, so I’m somewhat at a loss as to how to deal with more than one toddler.
Kurt was a sweetie and got both of them into bed, Grace in her toddler bed and D on her travel cot. I think they must have passed out within five minutes of getting horizontal; they were that tired. It was then that I had a bit of a breakdown. I just couldn’t quit crying. I was exhausted, I was tired, I was hot, I was cranky. It was awful.
D woke up at 6:45 this morning, well before I would normally be up, but Kurt was already getting ready for work. He got him up and dressed, and even managed to get Grace taken care of so I could sleep in a bit. D’s dad picked him up at 7:30 while I was in the shower so D could go to daycare.
Once I took Grace to school, I had the house entirely to myself. No children, no husbands, nothing. I put the radio on just to have some background noise, but it was so quiet in the house.
It was just what I needed. I mean, I am glad to do my friend a favor, and I really wish we knew what was going on with her. But two kids in the heat and when I’m already emotional and pregnant, it’s all so hard to deal with. Apparently D was supposed to take a 2-3 hour nap, and then go to bed for good at 6pm, neither of which I realized. Instead of giving him a nap, we let him play outside in the sun. He ended up falling asleep in his dinner, which completely surprised me because Grace has never fallen over from sheer exhaustion. She just keeps going and going and going and going… sort of like the Energizer bunny.
They called Kurt while he was at work this afternoon to see if we could take D in again today, but he didn’t get the message for another hour. By that time, they’d found someone else to watch him. It worked out well because I had a doctor’s appointment of my own to get to.
My OB is so funny. She examines me at each appointment, and each time she measures my uterus, she says, “You’re growing!” almost like it’s a surprise. So I say, “I should hope so!” which always makes her giggle. We had an incredibly truncated visit today because right as I was all gooped up so the doctor could find the baby’s heartbeat, the nurse pounded on the door and frantically informed the doctor that another patient of hers was already at the birthing center, five centimeters dilated, and that she’d better beat feet down there. As soon as she checked the baby’s heartbeat, the doctor flew out of the examining room, printed up my order to have a glucose test to check for gestational diabetes, and she was outta there.
We did have a few moments to talk as she was printing up my order. She was kvetching a bit about how Newport Hospital wants to have an OB on the “far” end of the island, so every time someone wants to have a baby, she has to go “all the way” to Newport. I had to giggle, since I go from Newport to the far end of the island every time I have a doctor’s appointment, and I think nothing of it! The island on which we live is only about fifteen miles long (by Kurt’s estimation using Google Maps), yet to native islanders, the far end could be in another state for all they care. If it can’t be got in Newport, they don’t need it. The doctor was telling us that her sister, who lives in Newport, won’t even come to visit her unless she needs something else up there so she has a reason to drive “all that way.”
The mind is boggled. This island is smaller than the distance I had to travel back in Washington just to get to the commissary, and I routinely drove thirty to forty-five minutes to get to where I needed to go. Kurt commuted twenty-five miles to work, not including the five miles across the Puget Sound that the ferry carried him. So now fifteen miles is nothing. Another friend of mine needed to head to Westerly a couple of times, and that’s an hour’s drive away, right on the border with Connecticut. Yet we thought nothing of heading down there twice in one week.
Here’s a geography lesson for you. I’ve been referring to this island as Aquidneck Island the entire time I’ve been living here. Apparently that is only its local name. The island on which I live is officially named Rhode Island, and the state itself is officially the State of Rhode Island and the Providence Plantations, the latter referring to the mainland. Now you know why the state is usually called Rhode Island when it’s really not an island at all. It’s just sort of a nickname.
It gets confusing when you want to look online to find out official information on Aquidneck Island since it’s officially Rhode Island, but if you look up Rhode Island you get information on the entire state. There have been movements to rename the island Aquidneck to lessen the confusion, but they haven’t been successful as yet.
Hey, I never said my blog wasn’t educational!
PS — Have you heard about the Great Javelina Hunt?? It’s a conference held in beautiful Tombstone, Arizona, for any and all bloggers who want to get to know each other and learn something about blogging to boot. There will be programs and discussions, not to mention lots of fun and laughter. If you are interested, please visit the official Javelina Hunt page to sign up. All bloggers are welcome!! I myself am dying to go, but this pregnancy simply won’t allow it. Please go and tell me all about it!