I have been in hospital every day for the last 50 days. The father figure decided to shake things up and go ahead and have his surgery in a different hospital than D'Garebear. In a different state. Well, it wasn't really the father figure's decision but I'm holding him responsible anyway. I'm also not really winning any awards for my sympathetic care giving abilities. The father figure was anxious about getting a spinal as a aide to pain relief after surgery. I rolled my eyes at his nerves, having received three myself, while bringing his children into the world. The last one was just weeks ago. Not to mention, his as administered after he received a sedative, not something they give laboring women. Nor did he have to endure contractions while being jabbed in his spine.I don't really score keep, but I forgot my breast pump at home so my discomfort level will rival his before the day is done.

Two different hospitals in two different states. If that doesn't sum up 2019 for me, I'm not sure what would.

D'Garebear is continuing to grow and is remarkably healthy. He's also mastered the all important skill, guilting mom. I visit him consistently, every day. Well except for the days that his father has surgery in another hospital. I keep myself on a very consistent schedule, for his sake. And D'Garebear is putting that consistency to his use. He is awake when I arrive most days, staring pitifully at the open door, waiting for me to arrive. And it does pang my mother's heart to see him waiting. Of course he promptly falls asleep for the next three hours while I am there. He consistently wakes up right as I am getting ready to leave, again staring at me with wide open eyes. To top it off, he decided to forget how to breathe as I was trying to leave the other day. All sorts of alarms and monitors went off and he stayed looking serene and slightly judgmental. When I explained to him that I still had to pick up X-Man from school, oxygen or no, he decided to resume breathing. But he got me to apologize several times.

D'Garebear seems ready for the real world.

Cinco was uninterested in losing her position as youngest and tyrant of the family. It's pretty clear that she won't be surrendering the tyrant position to D'Garebear, but she has reconciled herself to his existence. She's moved past resenting him to assuming she knows how best to care for him. She corrects me as I hold him, pushes my hands away because "I know what he wants" and critiques my diaper changing techniques. She's also appointed herself his personal shopper/stylist. I'm enjoying watching her come into her own as older sister, but I do have to admit that I worry for D'Garebear. He's in for a micromanaged life. Cinco is nothing if not imperious when it comes to what she thinks she knows.

Cinco was convinced she not only knew how to change diapers, she could do it better than I did. This was before D'Garebear gave a master class in how to void your entire body weight worth of poop while your mother changes your diaper. Or diapers as it were. She decided quickly there were somethings she was meant to supervise rather than do.


So life continues. I'll shuttle between hospitals while hissing threats at the other children to refrain from getting any fancy ideas for attention themselves. Although, once you've knocked the deductible out of the park for the year, is there any reason to just not throw anything else in the mix?

Geeze, I'm really tempting fate with that one.