Wednesday, August 02, 2017


Moving from a single-storey house to a three-level home has meant making some adjustments. Who needs a stair master when you're chasing your children upstairs and downstairs all day long? We are all going to be in great shape in no time (and by "we" I don't mean the children; they're fine).

The kids have been running up and down the stairs like crazy the past few days, hardly seeming to notice they're there (while I have to will myself up or down any given flight). Even Zoë took to the stairs fairly quickly. She went up and down all day Saturday without a problem, but on Sunday morning she took a tumble down the basement steps while holding a toy phone. The antenna part jabbed her pretty good right near her eye (missing her actual eye, thank goodness). She was pretty shaken up but continued to brave the stairs until Sunday afternoon when she took yet another tumble.

This time she was on her way down the stairs from the top floor of the house to the main floor when her kind and sweet older brother sent a sleeping bag rolling down the stairs after her. She went flying like a bowling pin and...that was it. She gave up on stairs. She started crawling up and down or would stand and scream for someone to "Helpo!" her walk up or down, the whole time nattering about, "Push me! Push me, fall! I fall! I fall! No push me!"

Saturday was a little rough for me. I felt relatively terrible, like I'd run a marathon or something, and eventually parked myself in the middle level and made the kids do all my legwork. We had a lot of things we'd unloaded from the van that needed to be moved upstairs, a task Miriam happily volunteered to do. When I finally went to check on her progress I found that she had literally been putting everything at the very top of the stairs, so there was no way to actually get past the stairs without moving all the stuff (but at least I didn't have to haul it all upstairs).

When I was remarked to Andrew about how absolutely dead I was feeling he reminded me that I had just gotten my 17-P injection the day before (it felt like a million years ago—but it really was just the day before and those things are as thick as jell-o) and was probably a little jet-lagged and—did I forget?—I was far too pregnant to be dealing with all this chaos. And then I felt a little bit better about life, though I have yet to get any sort of energy back.

Andrew came down with whatever the kids had on Sunday night and then Miriam suffered through Monday during the day and I spent the wee hours of today throwing up repeatedly. So now that everyone has had this bug we can start settling in and feeling normal. Maybe.