Scarlett's check up was both informative and a bit of a let down. I got the usual "She's beautiful," and then the let-down: Some bull shit about how even though Dante didn't breathe like Darth Vader, I need to treat Scarlett just the same. I don't like it, it's not sitting well with me. She got her shots, and I held and fed her afterwards so she'd calm down, and now she's a mucous-y mess. Now she sounds like a pug. Don't get me wrong, pugs are precious animals, but I don't like my daughter sounding like her nose wasn't made for her body. But she was born at 7 lbs., 12 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long. Now she's 9 lbs 8oz., and 22 1/2 inches. She's got all her shots, so now I don't feel bad about putting her on a plane next month. Doc also suggested vitamin E oil on my burn, and while it still looks like I am a bad horror movie extra, it hurts less and looks a lot better than it did! HAHAHA!
I'm still having serious problems sleeping, but Scarlett is doing well. Now at night she'll get about 4 hours between feedings, which is awesome. She is more alert, and showing some serious SPUNK. She loves to be held, and I think if I let Dante hold her, she'd still love it. She's getting a lot better at holding her head up, and every time I look at her, I am floored by how lucky I am. If I can toot my own horn for a second, I am very proud of how well I've handled myself. Maybe my grief is why my brain drifts off and I do things like singe layers of skin off my hand with bacon grease. But I'm still swimming in some pretty rough currents, and I am super proud of me. I do let myself slip from time to time, but if I didn't, I'd just be bottling it up until I explode. Little bursts are so much better in the long run.
I had the pleasure of editing an essay for a friend on the other side of the pond, and its subject made me think about how lucky I am to have my love, and my kiddos. I really just want to stop my world from spinning long enough to scream from my proverbial soap box that I love them all so much, I am surprised my heart can beat, it's so damn full. I also really miss editing and writing. I should finally finish that series of novels stored away in my grey matter. I should strike while the occult iron is hot. I got some sick shit stored up there. LOL!
Now I get to roll cigarettes while my kids sleep. And I get to watch some Glee since I had 6 episodes on the dvr. So I shall dance in the butt-spot I created in my couch while I roll those dreaded cancer sticks. I'll kick it someday, but not until my feet are on solid ground....