Happy Birthday Ella!
My big girl. My four year old. My I-was-in-labor-with-you-for-36-hours child. My child who is rarely quiet and never still. I’m feeling all nostalgic for the baby who is growing up. Or maybe I’m just weak from puking all day.
Woke up to pooping, puked in the middle of the day, napped (thank you Robyn) and now I’m back to pooping. Nice, right? 8 kids at Pizza Hut. I can hardly look at anyone eating much less stand the smell. Poor, poor Pizza Hut restroom. And, while I complain ad nauseaum (get it?) about how I never get time away from the littles, I really did want to spend today with Ella. I wanted to read her new books and get out the fingerpaints.
Oh, well, right? Maybe she won’t remember being four? Could I be so lucky?
The funny part of all this is that the whole time I’m feeling yucky, I think about that leader at Weight Watchers and how she described how to “kickstart” weight loss. I have eaten next to zero today save a little bit of applesauce so…yeah…I got you all beat, bitches. Zero points is zero points. Would be nice not to be so gurgly though. I will feel even better about this if it was a touch of food poisoning (note to self: don’t eat cool whip from the back of the fridge that hasn’t been touched since February) and not some bug that my kids are in line to get.