Slave to the Mommy Trade

Day 5 of the raw milk and it seems to be working well for Lydia... I think.

She seems to sport some impressive flatulence since the introduction and her stool is a bit on the mushier side.  Think melting ice cream texture.  [Was that a bit TMI?]  These could be attributed to the extra bacteria the raw milk is introducing into her system-- or it could be signs that doom is poking around the next corner.  Hard to tell, sometimes.

The good news is her belly isn't firm and distended.  She's slept beautifully through the night for the last week. [A trend she started before the raw milk and has continued.  Boy, how I missed sleep.]   She's not crying that her belly hurts nor is she pulling Jekyll and Hyde behavior.  And, most obvious, there are no rashes of any sort.  All signs and symptoms things might not be turning south for us. 

So far, so good.  I must admit, though, I'm still afraid to exhale. 

Day 2 of Lydia's swim lessons kinda-sorta went maybe a smidgen better then day 1.  She spent the first 15 minutes refusing to go into the water.  Then the teacher told me we could try letting Kyra swim with their class for a bit and see of Lydia co-operates then.

No such luck.

The instructor then said if I don't mind Lydia crying, neither does she.  And since Lydia cries ALL. THE. TIME. I plunked the kid into the water and went to sit down.

Lydia spent the next 10 minutes screaming for me as the teacher dragged her along with the rest of the class to the other end of the pool.  Once there, she saw that they were jumping off into the deep end and she shut her pie hole and started to have fun for the last 5 minutes of class.

When it was Lydia's turn to get out and Kyra's turn to start her class, Lydia then threw a tantrum because, how dare we let Kyra swim without her.  The horror!

Yesterday, at church, one of the ladies we know by sight came up to us and asked how old Lydia was.  I responded, "two and a half."  She said next week they're going to have their 2 year old niece with them and how her parents don't attend church so they are worried as to how she'll react.

She went on to say that sometimes as they talk to father and talk about how well behaved our girls are in church and how they wondered if Jeremy was in the military and they aren't sure what we're doing with the girls but whatever it is, we're doing it right.  How that connects, I don't know.  I've seen some pretty rotten kids from military parents the same as I've seen some pretty rotten kids from civilian parents.  Either way, I'll take the compliment!

Though it got me wondering, who are they?  We've never formally introduced ourselves to any of the priests of our church.  Nor have we registered with this parish. [Yes, we've been attending for 2 years, now.  We're a bit on the slow side.]  I get that we sit front and center every Sunday, but how often are they talking about us?  And is it always such glowing reviews as this? 

 Last night the girls spent the night next door with our neighbors.  Or, as Lydia calls them, Granma and Papa.  They're an older couple.  One son.  No grandchildren.  They've adopted our children as their grandchildren and dote on them the way any grandparent would by letting them eat what they wanted (last night is was a cucumber, tomato, carrot and cantaloupe smorgasbord), stay up until 9 o'clock at night and then letting the girls play in bed until they fell asleep.

To take advantage of our child free night... Jer and I did a whole lot of nothing.  We went to Wal-Mart to pick up more stripped fabric for Kyra's dress and then came home and watched movies.  It was lovely.  And fabulous.  And I got to sleep until 9:20 this morning.

I still say Jer and I don't necessarily need date nights.  But it does help tremendously to not only have an uninterrupted night of sleep, but the the extra blessing of sleeping late, too.

This week, life. was. good.