Shit's been busy, yo.
We didn't move into that other flat because the landlords turned out to be douchecanoes. Which turned out for the best since a year ago we found a much larger flat with a garden all to ourselves. Brand spanking new renovations andnot the cheap ass kind either. The landlord is awesome. It even has a lemon tree. Woot.
Peanut hit the toddler years with a vengeance. She was accepted at the municipal Asilo nido last year (state run nursery school) and all her teachers were like, "Woah, does she ever stand still?" Answer: No. This year she's at the state run pre-school.
This summer she got four stitches to her head after tripping against the stairs to our vacation flat. It took just as many people to hold her down to get them. She started vomiting later that night and we rushed back to the ER. Long story short, she had also gotten the gastro bug going around that area, and Daddy and Mommy got it too. 2 days of travel, 3 in the hospital, 1 at the beach. We're the only ones to return from a beach holiday paler than before we left. Oy vey.
Mon Amour's family never cease to amaze with their level of batshitsanity. And the less said about them, the better.
We also added another Peanut to the Nuthouse. Gwendolyn Grace joined us last February. She took much less time arriving than her big sister. Like they barely got the epidural in before I was SPROING!! FULLY DIALATED!! and ready to push. Mon Amour almost didn't make it up to the birthing room. It was a totally different experience than with Peanut the First.
I think my favorite part was when one of the nurses assisting the obstetrician glanced at my spread eagled crotch in between contractions and chirpily informed us Peanut the Second was a blondie.
That pregnancy was not as much fun as the first; since Peanut the First was getting every cold that went around her preschool, I spent the last two months of my pregnancy practically attached to a nebulizer to stop the never-ending bronchitis from turning into pneumonia. I will take swollen cankles over being unable to breathe properly any day.
Peanut the Second had a mild teeny tiny heart murmur at birth, which they discovered right as we were supposed to be sent home. 3 days of nicu fucking sucked and I don't know how those with more serious problems handle it. She's fine now and has the cutest fattest thighs you will ever want to gnam on. She is showing signs of skipping the while crawling thing and going straight to walking. Oy vey.
I will also cop to having a mild case of Postpartum depression this time around. That too sucked but my hormones finally straightened themselves out after a few months. Just when I was about to go back to the doc and say "yeah it's not getting better", it got a teensy bit better. And Mon Amour checking with me constantly helped. He's had some depressive episodes and while he couldn't understand the hormonal aspect, he was definitely my empathetic rock to lean on when I was feeling pretty shitty. Again, those who have had more extensive difficulties with PPD, I salute you brave biznitches who have made it out the other side.
Peanut the First is in love with her little sister and in fact it's been 9 months of telling her to stop kissing and hugging the baby so much. The love is reciprocal and I will find the two of them laughing it up in the crib or the play yard.
And though there are days when I want to strangle him (usually when one or both of our progeny have kept me up all night - 3 years of sleep deprivation will do that to a person ), I am still madly in love with Mon Amour. We are both greyer and lacking a bit in the sleep and sex departments (because getting both of the progeny to sleep at the same time is a feat of Herculean strength and Athenian cunning and even then the moon has to be in the right position.) but my life is infinitely richer with him next to me. I am so damn lucky.
Mwah. Love you triangled, zozz. Sei mio e io sono tua. Per sempre. Evviva!