Baby Abigail--praise God--has finally started to kick her infant reflux. I was all proud of myself for figuring out the right dosage of her meds, when I remembered that her happier behavior didn't correspond to the last doctor visit, but her last Nun visit. Abigail Clare got blessed with a St. Clare relic and prayed over by the Poor Clares of Washington D.C. Thank you St Clare! Thank you Sisters!
I feel like I'm coming out of the fog of childbirth, and everything around me is a mess. My husband is neglected. My older children are clingy. My budget is upside down. My house is messy. My dog needs a haircut. My parish is infighting.
I just want to lay down and sleep for a thousand years.
Tomorrow, my Tess turns two.
She's beautiful.
Strong.
Alive.
I don't have much money, but I do have lots of love and time. I think the kids and I are going to give her "a special day"--doing all the things she wants to do more off but usually just shortchanged being one of the little ones in our family.
