That's what she said, part II

So Ellison is definitely getting to the age where she says lots of funny things.

I was using Nick's Xbox fitness app the other day, which necessitates use of the Xbox controller. Ellison knows the Xbox (and its controller) are daddy's and that these items fall under the "no touch" category. She walks up to me with a look of consternation on her little face.

E: Mommy, no no. Gih tha daddy. [translation: Give that to daddy.]
B: Huh?
E: No, no, gih tha daddy. Thas daddy's. [translation: That's daddy's.]

Nick and I both cracked up. Also, she's really gotten into the "good boy" thing and says it whenever Nick or I do something that pleases her, such as buckle her properly into her car seat.

That's what she said

So Ellison comes up with some pretty funny things to say. Acknowledging that many of them are only funny to Nick and me, here's one I think might hold broader appeal. And remember, you have to read her line with a little toddler voice.

A little background first... she likes to mimic us talking to the dogs. She frequently tells them, "Get back," "Move," and "No, no, bad dog." The other day I fixed something she'd broken.

B: OK, sweet pea. Here it is. All better.
E: [smiling] Good boy, Mommy. Good boy.

No longer pregnant Bethie

So the last time I posted, it was about Mexican food and baby names, remember? Well, a lot has changed since then, my e-amigos. I'd just settled myself into the fact that I had 1) no idea and 2) no control over when Widget would make his debut. So just like when you swear off boys for reals and then meet the love of your life the next day (no it's true), it happened just like that.
I spent all day last Saturday cleaning and scrubbing, and we enjoyed some art at Tim's solo gallery opening that evening. Elle makes a pretty lousy third wheel, so we headed home early and hit the hay.
I woke up around midnight with some abdominal pain. I decided to pay attention to it but that if I fell asleep before it came back, it was nothing. Well, 2 hours later I finally woke Nick up. I was just so worried about being one of the crazy preggos who cries labor wolf; I wanted to make sure it was the real deal. So then Jen and Chile came over around 3:00 am (seriously, only a good friend would do that), and Nick and I took off to the hospital. He apparently didn't actually feel my pain like so many men seem say in the delivery room because had he, he would have driven a LOT faster.
So there's all the usual hospital happenings, like paperwork, peeing in a cup, paperwork, witty banter with the nurse to drop subtly that I'm a doctor so she knows I know what's going on, EPIDURAL! (props to that anesthesia resident), and some more papers to sign. Several hours later, abracadabra, alakazam... we have a baby!
Archer William Scholz is now home with us whether he likes it or not. Elle loves giving him hugs and kisses, and Gramzie is over the moon for her new grandson.. Nick and I are settling into a little sleep-deprived routine, and life in general is resetting nicely to our "new normal."

I'm too tired to be much wittier than that right now. So in lieu of jokes, I've got pictures. Razzle dazzle, 'em, right?

Battle of the sexes: when it's no battle at all

Here's a text exchange Nick and me from a couple weeks ago.

Among the many things that make us highly compatible, I would list our uncanny knack for syncing our Mexican food cravings near the top.

Still no news

Well, I guess the news is that there's still no baby. Does it make me a bad mother that I was a little grumpy with him this morning after the doctor told me there'd been no progress since last week? I mean, in the Scholz household, if you aren't 15 minutes (or 2 weeks) early, you're late.
But then again, poor kid, he's gonna be the second-born in a family of first-born chronically punctual over-achievers. So maybe I should cut him a little slack. Or maybe I should also take more stairs.

That's all. I've got a hot Monday night date with some baby shower invitations. Speaking of babies, I'm hosting (or helping host) 2 showers 2 weekends in a row this spring for 2 sets of twins due 2 days apart. Crazy, huh? Must be something in the Houston water. Or the Baptist communion juice. That's all. Over and out.

Happy birthday to me

Another year down, my friends. And today was mostly like any other day. I woke up early. I wrestled with my socks and shoes (hard to put things on your feet when you can't see said feet). I wrestled with Ellison's socks and shoes (hard to put things on her feet when she runs away). I saw clinic patients. *Special b-day treat #1: My highest-maintenance patient cancelled in the middle of clinic. Like a little surprise, just for me.
I did some errands around the office, taking as many stairs as possible trying to convince Widget to get the labor party started. I did consult rounds. *Special b-day treat #2: My fellow brought Reese's hearts (with a bow on the bag) to rounds. That will reflect positively on her evaluation. I picked Elle up from daycare. I wrestled with her again over tights and different shoes. We went to Prego for dinner with Jen and Chile (how fitting - we are both, in fact, preggo). *Special b-day treat #3: Even though we were initially told there was no room at the inn (apparently eating out the day before Valentine's Day is a thing), they rearranged some reservations and made space for us! *Special b-day treat #4: Instead of sharing chocolate cake at the end, I benevolently mandated that we all (by which I mean I) should get our own pieces. Yum.
So I just finished my notes from consult rounds. Nothing special or birthday-ish about that. But now I have a few precious minutes before bed. So I think I'll go enjoy them.

Now that's funny

I had my weekly visit with the ob today. There's a tv in the waiting room, which is always tuned to either HGTV or TLC. Today it was TLC, and "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" was on. Now that's a sight, a roomful of pregnant women watching that show. All of us thinking, "How on earth did you not know you were pregnant?!"