Some how, miraculously, my body (with the help of this fine medication), did it's job.

And today, I've stopped bleeding. Is it possible? It's been 19 days. I was fairly certain it would never end.

Now I can go back to worrying about important things, like the 72 loads of laundry in my basement. Or the dirty dishes from last week. Oh, and the bills that were due yesterday.

(*Really there's about 11 loads of laundry, dishes from Sunday, and the bills aren't due until today. I'm not THAT much of a slacker ;)

Perhaps I'll even do some school work today with my kids. Right now they are running around the house (narrowly avoiding the dust bunnies and dirty laundry), still in their jammies (yes, it's after 12), yelling "Friends forever never transform!" and blowing a train whistle.

That's educational right?

Where The Girls Live

Tonight at bed time, my son began to giggle. I asked him what was so funny and he replied that he was thinking about "all the girls that he'll be kissing!"

Apparently, after further questioning, I found that these girls live in "Girl Town" and they like him.

Oh My.

And in other news, my hCG level is steadily dropping. Finally. There was some concern that it was staying too level and that I wasn't going to be able to complete the miscarriage at home.

I have absolutely no desire to have a D&C. (Not that anyone wants to!!) But I've been out of commission long enough!

Oh, and my house has been over run by Girl Scout cookies. Pictures will follow soon.

The One Where You Think My House is Full of Pervs

We had quite the windstorm last night. Of course, being in this area, that meant we lost power.

My oldest slept right through it, which is not at all unusual. But my son woke up screaming like he was being attacked by a bunch of mutant, ninja 3-legged tigers.

When I finally stumbled my bubble butt down the hall to his room, he is MIA. Somehow in the 4 hours it took me to get to him, he had decided to stealthy maneuver his way into our room, into our bed.

At this point, it is a lost cause. Removal of this little being from our bed into his own is like trying to remove parasitic worm sacs from a grown man's brain (anyone see Gray's anatomy tonight?).

I got ready for bed in the near darkness and cuddled up with him. My husband came in and cuddled up on the other side.

My husband mentioned that our son could cuddle up with him instead of me, but he refused. And here is the conversation that took place when we prodded as to why he'd rather cuddle with me.

Me: Is it because mommy is softer?

Son: Noooooo. (insert precious giggle here)

Me: Is it because I'm warmer than Daddy?

Son: Noooooo. (insert even bigger giggle here)

Husband: Well, then what is it?

Son: She's sexy!

Insert my husband and I laughing our asses off here.

So yes, one day he's talking about his boy parts and the next he's apparently suffering from an Oedipus Complex.

And now that my very low readership has dropped by half, I bid you a good night!

I Made That

Often, my son freaks out if we happen to see him change or going potty (strange since bath time doesn't bother him and he doesn't seem to mind walking in on us while we are in the bathroom!)

I finally explained (in a very mature and civil manner, to be sure. Not!) that I made his 'stuff' and therefore, I have every right to see it.

Because he is very literal, this seemed to work.

Until tonight when he said to my husband "You can't be in the bathroom with me! I don't want you to see me!"

My husband responded that it was OK for daddy to see him, since he is daddy and was helping him get ready for bed. (We've had the "not-ok touching" talk with both children, but this was more of a "get over it dude! I'm just getting your tooth brush out" sort of thing.)

My son responds "But you didn't make my p3n1s!"