If nothing else, at least the apartment is ready for surgery. Despite my best efforts, I still ran around the apartment in freak-out mode today, trying to accomplish every single little thing I could possibly think of. Cleaned the fridge, wiped the cabinets, trimmed the girls' nails, did lots of laundry, packed bags, laid out clothes, jotted down some notes for my mom about Abigail. The teeniest little thing would send me into a panic: "WHY THE HELL ARE THEY STARTING PRESCHOOL 15 MINUTES EARLIER? OBVIOUSLY I NEED MORE THAN 4 DAYS NOTICE. SERIOUSLY. I NEED, LIKE, A FEW WEEKS TO PREPARE." And when Abigail came home with a note in her backpack that a few students in the mainstream classes came down with hand, foot, and mouth disease, and another note about a class costume party on the 30th, I had to call Matt again. "SERIOUSLY? HAND, FOOT, AND MOUTH DISEASE? I HAVEN'T GOOGLED IT YET, BUT I WILL. AND WHEN I DO, I'M GOING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT IT." I found myself staring in disbelief at the paper, "WHAT IF DURING THE HALLOWEEN PARADE, ABIGAIL COMES INTO CONTACT WITH SOMEONE WITH HAND, FOOT, AND MOUTH DISEASE? WHY ISN'T HER CLASS BEING QUARANTINED? MAYBE I SHOULD PULL HER OUT OF PRESCHOOL."
I tried, I really did. I even went for an hour-long walk today to try to drain myself of nervous energy. I'm so nervous about being in a lot of pain after the surgery. Oh goodness, please pray for me tomorrow. Pray that I won't need a stent. And pray for Matt, who is going to be trying to pacify an exclusively breast-fed baby who will be away from mommy for a good half of the day.
Bleh. In the meantime, here are some pics I finally downloaded off my camera. Lazy morning snuggles:
Abigail never did this:
They are working on counting in preschool. Abigail loves to line up my crafting magazines and count them. "Sies, sies, two, one."
She rolls over now. Every time I put her down. And she always forgets she hates being on her tummy until she's back on it. She appears to be on the early side of her milestones, which has me excited. If she's walking by May, she can be a flower girl in Aunt Kate's wedding with Abigail.
Poor girl has my nose:
We're always enchanted when the kitty walks by.
Eleanor looks so much like my grandma. My grandma said she looks a lot like her mother, who was all Swedish. Except she has Matt's hair, who has his mother's hair, who is all Polish. So this is my Swedish baby with Polish hair.