Post-op

I had minor surgery last Wednesday (EVLT, if you must know), from which I am recovering nicely. I was instructed not to breastfeed for 24 hours after the procedure, due to the anesthetic used, and so we fed bottles to the munchkin. This was interesting mostly because we weren't sure how he would take to the bottle (he did fine), and we had no idea how much he was eating (it's a LOT).

Tim had Luke for the first feeding, while I was still in surgery. On the drive home, Tim asked me if it was normal for babies Luke's age to eat 8oz at a sitting. My eyes widened. OMG, seriously? Sure enough, he had at least 3 meals where he consumed 8oz. During what can only be described as "snacks", he ate 4oz. My only question is, shouldn't I weigh approximately 120 pounds right now? With all he's eating, I ought to be super thin. Sadly, it is not so. Also, we are out of reserve breast milk around here. I know, TMI, right?

I did take advantage of the whole "not nursing" thing, and we had pizza for dinner followed by brownie sundaes. Also, cheese for lunch. And cereal for snack. Of course, dairy stays in your system much longer than 24 hours, and Luke is finally getting over the gas caused by my binge. Sorry, baby boy. But man, cheese. Love.

Exhausting

I'm not generally a subscriber to the 'Murphy's Law' philosophy, but as of late it seems that if it's not one child, it's another. By this I mean that if it isn't Kate peeing her bed in the middle of the night, it will be Claire falling out of hers. If it isn't Luke failing to nap, it's Claire refusing to do so. Today it was the latter. I am at a point where I need an afternoon nap so as not to be 1.) a total grump in the evening hours, and 2.) to maintain some semblance of sanity and/or coherence after 4pm. In recent months, it has been Kate who has challenged the nap time routine, preferring instead to roam the house adult-free and cause untold destruction. Finally, she is starting to behave in this arena, and has passed the reins to her younger sister, who is exponentially more...dangerous...in this regard.

Today, something woke me around 3pm, probably about 30 minutes into a nap. The half-hour point is not a good point to be awakened, as anyone who has been abruptly jarred from sleep at this point will attest to. I checked Luke's room for signs of Claire. She was sitting prettily on her sofa, where she naps, but was mysteriously covered in brownish bits. Upon further investigation, I found that she had not yet slept, and that her pillow and blanket were "missing". Because she had been playing with a toy from the loft, which somehow made it to her room during nap time, I expected to find the missing items there. They were not in the loft. I went downstairs after she told me where to find them, and also found a juice cup on my desk. And one of Luke's burp cloths laid out like a table cloth on a box in the entryway. When retrieving her pillow, I stepped in what appeared to be invisible crumbs on the tile floor of the family room. It occurred to me that the last time I had felt such a sensation on my bare feet had been when Claire had 'salted' the kitchen floor. Sure enough, I looked around the family room to see a pile of salt and bread crumbs on the sofa and floor. On my way upstairs, I saw more bread crumbs on the bottom step. I'm not sure exactly what kind of party she was having while I was napping, but it involved a fresh loaf of zucchini-carrot bread whose top is now missing, and a salt shaker that I am currently unable to find.

They're home

He's home? I don't even know how many people live next door. Tim has talked to the guy we see most often there; does that count? This post is likely to be the most ambiguous one I have written yet. I have very little concrete information. Are you still reading?

Tim got home on Friday night and called the police. They sent someone from animal control. ?? The guy told Tim that two of the dogs had died (of their injuries? were put down? I'm not sure). He also said that the owner of the dogs knew someone at animal control, so we should expect to see the third dog back sometime. Sure enough, the neighbor(s) arrived home on Saturday evening, toting the remaining pit bull.

Some interesting information: animal control took no pictures of the dogs and their injuries, which I would think they would have done if for no other reason than to cover their butts. Also, both dogs that died were chipped. And no one called their owner about the situation. I can't stand the thought of pit bulls in general/next door, but if something like this had happened to my pets, I would be pissed. What's the point of a microchip if animal control isn't going to call you about things like this?

Leading the curve

Beginning of nap.

Middle of nap.

Luke is rolling over. Not consistently, but still. The first time he did this (2 weeks ago), I missed it. Grandma Cheri told me about it, and I sort of dismissed it, thinking it was a fluke. But it's happened several times since then: put him on his tummy, and there's a good chance he'll push himself over to his back. He's only 6 weeks old. Someone remind me, but isn't it a little early for this sort of thing?

Of course, I'm taking this new skill to mean that it's okay to put him to sleep on his tummy once in awhile. He looooves it. His naps last for hours. I know, bad mommy. But sleep! It's a wonderful thing.

On a completely different note, what would you do about our neighbor situation? My friend Jen, who lives across the street, remembers seeing them last Tuesday, as in about 10 days ago. No one has been to the house since. They left their hungry pit bulls in the backyard, at least one dog inside the house, a TV on upstairs, and...haven't returned. I know people go on vacation, but without making arrangements to feed the beasts in the yard that are likely to eat each other alive if not fed regularly? What about the dog inside the house? We heard it yapping up a storm on Sunday night when we experienced our own episode of CSI:, but Jen banged on their front door yesterday and didn't hear a dog at all. They still have the note from animal control shoved in their front door, so I don't think anyone has been back to the house. There are 2 cars parked in front of their house, and their BBQ and other small furniture are still in the backyard, so I kind of doubt they just moved out. Jen, Tim and I have tossed around the idea that someone came over and knocked 'em off...it is Las Vegas, after all. Also, I may have forgotten to mention the cars they have: we've seen two BMW 5 series M editions (is that even how you say that?) that we're guessing cost at least $80K apiece, and the "owner" of the house has an Escalade. Not that these vehicles weren't purchased with good, clean money, but I'm just sayin'. At what point do you call the police? Also, I may have to make this blog private soon if I keep talking about the people next door, so this will likely be the last post about them. [whispering] No need for a drug cartel hit over here.

What you can't see

What you can't see in these pictures is the 2 squad cars parked out of range of the camera, and the officers loading shotguns before "the raid".

This was the scene on our driveway last night after dinner. The cause for the commotion: our neighbors' pit bulls, that are left in the backyard day and night, were viciously attacking one another, likely out of hunger. We think the neighbors have been out of town for the past week. People walking along the greenbelt behind our houses saw what was going on and came to use our phone to call 911.

The events of the evening included: the animal control guy initially telling Tim they would "leave a note for the owners" to which Tim responded without positive enthusiasm, the call for back-up when the use of approximately an entire can of pepper spray did not have much effect on the dogs (although us humans were affected), two police officers standing on chairs in our backyard with shotguns aimed into the backyard next door as several other officers gingerly entered the yard to find the third dog that was hiding, 5 police cars and one animal control truck parked in front of our driveway, and all dogs ultimately being removed from the backyard.

It wasn't the Mother's Day ending we were expecting, but we are hoping it will reduce the dog problems next door.

The pro

Luke had his 1 month well-baby check today. He is officially 10 pounds 4 ounces (50-75%), and 22 1/4 inches (75-90%) tall.

I dropped Kate off at school and then Luke and I went to the pediatrician. I, being the veteran mom that I am, opted to carry Luke inside in his car seat, and carry only my diaper bag-sized purse in with me, forgoing the actual diaper bag itself. I had one of his diapers and a bunch of wipes in my purse and figured I was good. Critical error numero uno.

I had to change Luke into a new nappy to weigh him, using up my spare. Then, while we were waiting for the doctor to come to our room, Luke messed his nice clean diaper. I decided I didn't want the kind doctor to open up Luke's diaper to such a mess, so I decided to *clean it up a little* with some of my handy wipes. Critical error number two. While I was attempting to remove baby poo from said diaper, Luke felt the need to relieve himself. He peed all over the paper-covered table and himself. I, of course, was out of wipes by this time, so I had to use some of the paper towels provided for such occurrences. Luckily for me, the doctor didn't arrive until after I had cleaned up my mess, and he graciously offered me one of the office's diapers.

I will be bringing my diaper bag to all future appointments.

Look who's one month old!

Someone please slow time down. My baby boy is already one month old. And he weighs approximately 11 pounds. Gah.

A tea party

The girls had a tea party today. Upstairs, in the master bathroom toilet. I'm still gagging. Where do they come up with these things? This shenanigan took place while I was downstairs feeding Luke, and Cheri was cleaning the kitchen. I am so in trouble come Friday when I am left alone with the children. And I'm frightened. Very frightened. Someone hold me.