For Father's Day yesterday, my husband got up at 7 AM with the girls, mediated four fights and two tantrums, then took them to Toys R' Us, Target, Best Buy, Linens N' Things, and Wal-Mart. He put up with naplessness and the ensuing whining, grilled pork chops for supper, bathed the girls, and did the dishes and a load of laundry. He got up at 6 this morning, so he could get to work by 7 and be home for more child duty by 4:30, when the nanny has to leave.
I think I may have to cave and let him buy the giant widescreen TV he's lusting after, as a reward for being Father of the Year. He certainly deserves it, poor man.
I got to leave the house today and go to a doctor's appointment. It was nice to see some sunshine, although it is freakin' HOT outside today, 96 degrees with heat index. I'm already flushed all the time from the Procardia, and heat doesn't help. Procardia isn't as bad as mag sulfate, which is like the aftermath of a day at the beach on spring break -- you didn't use enough sunscreen and drank too many margaritas, and you feel sunburned and nauseated and dizzy so tired you can barely move -- but it's vaguely reminiscent of it.
The doctor's appointment itself wasn't too exciting. Baby sounds fine, and I just need to keep doing what I'm (not) doing, and come in if I have contractions. Dr. Pro did say that she will be concerned if I do begin to dilate at all, because the Lagniappe is breech, and therefore at even higher risk for things like cord prolapse If I do start dilating and he is still breech, we'll be talking about hospital bedrest, and we will make the decision to deliver sooner than we would with a vertex baby. Clearly, the thing to do is not to start dilating.
78 days to go.