Our son ate an apple for breakfast. One whole (peeled, cored, chopped, sauteed, spiced, pureed, mixed with whole milk) apple. I have to admit, it smelled pretty apple-butter-cinnamon-tastic; I had a hard time not just spreading it on my toast.

Woot.

Also, we got our onesies from Alisha today! Yay! We'll post pics as we can.

We arrive in L.A. on June 5th, and leave on September 4th. Whee!


(Still not sure about Spokane dates...)

I had my surgery last night. It was an uncomplicated laparoscopic cholecystectomy, which went quickly and smoothly. I quizzed the anaesthesiologists of what their drugs and dosages were for induction and volatile maintenace of anaesthesia... they cracked up the whole time and told me I was rougher on them than med students. I recovered well and came home this afternoon.

Whee! The wonders of modern medicine; you can come home <24 hours after having an organ removed.

Between this and the c-section, I now have 5 scars on my belly. AJ, does this beat you or are we tied?

I was supposed to get this post up last night but in the midst of everything it didn't make it. Late Saturday night Jeni started feeling the same sort of pain coming on as when she had her first gallstone attack last week. She called the NHS and they wanted her to come in right away. So she went out and got on a bus to the hospital at 11:30 the night before Easter. They gave her some pain meds and kept her overnight. She was given two options: to wait in the hospital to see a surgeon and likely have her gall bladder removed in the next day or two, or to go home and set up an outpatient procedure sometime in the next several months. Since she had another attack just a week after the first one, even on the restricted diet meant to prevent attacks, she really only had one choice.

So Jeni spent Easter in the hospital waiting for a surgeon. A surgeon who never showed up. A surgeon who she's still waiting for today. In the meantime, after Saturday night's attack subsided Jeni hasn't needed any pain medication or fluids or anything. She's just sitting in the hospital, waiting. This week she was scheduled to work on the school's sheep farm to help out with lambing. That's obviously been canceled.

I'm at home with Hosea, Jeni's in the hospital waiting. well keep you updated as stuff (hopefully) happens.

Man, we are so danged blessed by our friends! Everyone has gotten Hosea some preposterously cute clothes, but a few are particularly special. For example:

--The results of the surprise baby shower that Bianca, Miranda, Claire, and Shelley threw us last summer (that we couldn't attend, boo, but they threw in our absence, yay) were a collection of hand-painted or written onesies declaring such truths as "Cute as a bug", "Over the moon", "Presby baby", and the like, with some truly gorgeous pictures. He still wears the 6-9 month ones, though we *really* have to stretch to get them on.

--The adorable and oh-so-classic "Frankenfish" onesie that Kayla found at the Davis Farmer's Market, which have gotten us more comments/admiration/expressions of envy than should be legal.

--The black electric guitar shirt and trousers that Nana got him, which truly unleash his inner rock band front man.

Now, we haven't received them yet, but I have a sneaking suspicion that these are going to be added to the mix. Oh, the cuteness. Yay, Alisha!

I learned a few new things yesterday:
--There are stomachaches and there are stomachaches.
--NHS 24, the after-hours health care hotline, is pretty good at telling you you're fine, but they are also pretty good at telling you you need to be seen by a doctor RIGHT NOW.
-- Aaron and Jo, a couple from church, are exceptionally good people who will drive you to the hospital, offer to stay with you there, go home, and pick you up later to take you back home, all in the midle of the night.
--The ER here is just as lame and depressing as the ER in the States.
--When you tell the nurse you're a vet student and she says, "Well what do you think your symptoms sound like? Vet students are usually good at diagnosing acute illness", she actually expects an answer.
--I was partway right. I did have pancreatitis (which I guessed) but I also have cholecystitis due to gallstones (which is not a common differential in dogs).
--If they are going to give you morphine, they really wish you would stay in the hospital.
-- If you tell them you're a mother of an infant, they will let you go home with strict and dire warnings to come back straight away if something gets worse.
--Opioids are goooood at pain relief. They do, however, make me feel like I'm sitting in a thick intoxicating mist all the time.
--Did I mention I have an exam tomorrow?

This morning Matt was playing in the praise band, so Hosea and I were chillin' without him in the pew. Hosea was a touch fussy (see below's post) so I had him facing me, standing on my legs as I bounced him up and down.

Our minister was talking about the first Palm Sunday during the "welcome" blurb. He said something like "You can just picture it-- Jesus riding into Jerusalem as the children waved palm branches and the adults threw down their cloaks, everyone shouting 'Hosanna! Hosanna!"

At this point, Hosea jumped, swiveled around, and stared curiously at the minister. His expression very clearly said "You rang?"

Nobody even glanced at him. Or me, though I was shaking trying to keep from laughing out loud.

Man, our kid's gonna be disappointed when he learns people didn't shout "Hosea!" on Palm Sunday.

Welcome to the world, number 401!

**Caution: Introspection ahead. Skip to bottom for a cute picture of our child**

Man, it feels like forever since I actually wrote anything of substance. I've been thinking about giving up on this bloggin' thing; I feel like I am crushingly shallow when I write anything (which is not even all that often). In the mean time, here's a post:
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"How are you?"

It's a phrase I, like all of you, hear a lot in my daily life. I hear it at least 1/2 dozen times a day from my vet school kindred, I hear it 2 or three times from Matthew, and I hear it about 20 times in a space of an hour and a half every Sunday morning. The baristas at the coffee shops I visit; the cashier at Tesco; the bank teller; the person sitting next to me on the bus; heck, even the guy selling "The Big Issue" on the sidewalk or the girl trying to get me to donate to Marie Curie. It seems strange sometimes that even the shallowest of interactions is often centered around such an in-depth question.

Oh, I know it's not that in-depth to the questioner. They usually want to hear "Fine" or "Pretty good" or the like. If it's a friend, they may want to hear "Well, the baby kept us up last night, but at least I made all my notecards for Endocrinology!" (I didn't yet, by the way.) Matt probably expects an answer that describes how my day up to that point has affected me, or something. But to me, at least, I sometimes stop and wonder: How am I doing?

And it's not an easy question to answer, because I really don't have the time for self-reflection. Except when I'm procrastinating from finishing these dang notecards, that is. I am, generally speaking, one hundred percent consumed with the daily business of living. Get up at 5 and feed Hosea. Wake up at 7ish to get dressed, eat breakfast, check email, make lunch, walk out the door by 8:10. Walk or run to the bus. Chat with my seatmate du jour on the way to the Bush. Go to lectures and practicals, staying more or less awake and trying to ration my food so I don't get too hungry. Go back into town by a variety of methods (shuttle bus, city bus, hitching a ride, teleportation, etc). Feed Hosea, then study for awhile, then feed him again. Play with him, eat dinner, put him to bed, hang out with Matt, fall exhaustedly asleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. It may not sound too intense, but it is for me-- I feel like my nose is about 2cm above water. Introspection is far down on my list of priorities, just below showering and just above cleaning our bathroom (Kayla, come back!).

But how am I? I think I'm alright. We're doing some fun stuff in school right now; I never thought I'd be this interested in small animal diseases, but it's fun (and novel!) to learn how to recognise, diagnose, and treat diseases. In animals. Whee! I feel more like I'm on the path to vet-dom every day, a thought which is alternately terrifying and exhilarating. I found one vet to work with this summer (an equine hospital about 30 minutes from Mom's house), and I'm working on two more. I'm looking forward to Easter break; I'm lambing for 2 weeks and working at a small animal hospital for 1, and relaxing/spending time with my boys/studying like a vet student in the last week.

Apart from school, I'm a little less sure. I've felt hypocrisy sneaking into my interactions with Matt lately-- I tell him that he needs to get out more and do things and interact with people while feeling jealous of my time with him. I'm not sure how to work around that. Any ideas?

I'm finally starting to feel like a mom in some ways. Tonight, Matt took off for 5 or 6 hours to hang out with high-school-aged kids via Scripture Union. I played with Hosea, let him hang out in his high chair while I made myself a (failed attempt at) dinner, gave him nakay tummy time while I ate said dinner, put him in jammies, read to him, and nursed him and put him to bed. Not once in any of that time did I wonder what I was doing, wish Matt was around to help, fear for Hosea's well-being, etc. We just... hung out. And it was grand. Except the dinner--when trying a new recipe, do not convince yourself that one of the three ingredients is probably not necessary. It is.

Spiritually, I'm in kind of a valley right now. It occurred to me the other day that I couldn't even remember the last time I had cracked open my Bible. I think Matt and I are going to try to read Scripture together more frequently. On Sundays, I'm in the creche with Hosea, so I don't hear the word read in Church, and I haven't gone to small groups in a long time because I need to nurse Hosea before he goes to bed or I can't make it 'til morning. I have Christian friends in school, but we don't, like, pray together before class, so it's not really fellowship. I know I should be taking more responsibility for my spiritual discipline, but it's, you know, hard and stuff. I can't even really pray right now, I'm so scattered.

And speaking of scattered, so is this post. I didn't really have anything in mind when I sat down to write it, just figured I'd give you guys more that the obligatory once-weekly picture update/bullets of randomness.

So how are you?
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I call this picture "Childproofing". Note the dirty carpet, the tangle of wires by his right foot, the dangly chokey thing to his left, th important documents withing easy reach, and the sharp pokey-out thing on the drawers. Um, yeah. CPS would probably have words to say to us.

One million pictures of Hosea in his new high chair, because he is one million cute!

















Here's a peek at what the little man has been eating. We've made all his food ourselves so far in our food processor. He's had porridge, apples, bananas, pears, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, plums, broccoli, beef, chicken, avocado and I'm sure some other stuff I've forgotten about. He likes pretty much everything except chicken. He only likes chicken mixed with other stuff, like lots of broccoli and some garlic powder. Here's a pic of some beef and broc ready to go into the freezer to be pulled out for meals this next week:



Some people have said to us that they made some of their own baby food, but bought meats pre-made in jars because the idea of pureeing meat grossed them out. It doesn't bother us, and doing it ourselves we know it's real fresh meat, as opposed to who knows what is in those jars from who knows when.

Last but not least, if you'd like to read about some of the trials and tribulations of being a stay at home dad, check out my latest post at my personal blog: Macaroni and Awesome.