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Movember

     

I swear this child will never be able to sleep anywhere but in the arms of female relatives at the rate we’re going.

This weekend my mom visited again for her usual dose of baby whispering, and my sister and her boyfriend drove out from Alberta to meet Olive for the first time.

With Lizzie’s visit, Olive has now met every single one of her aunts and uncles on my side of the family, and is just missing a snuggle from Adam’s twin sister Leigh, which she will get at Christmas.

     

As I posted yesterday, my sister’s boyfriend Eric has a pretty intense mustache. And for some reason, although Adam is very fond of Eric himself, the mustache elicits a strange sort of rage in him. Every time Adam sees a picture of Eric on Facebook he points angrily at the offending facial hair and exclaims loudly, “Why?!”

I have no idea why the mustache angers him so – I can only assume it’s envy, because as we know Adam himself is not averse to weird and wonderful bouts of facial hair styling. See here. And here.

As we sat in my living room yesterday, my mom, sister and I cooing over little Olive, Adam sat staring at Eric’s mustache growing more and more incensed by the minute.

Finally he leapt up, “I’m going to teach you a lesson.” he muttered ominously, and stomped off to the bathroom.

Five minutes later he emerged like this.

     

                                                  Nerd twins.

Adam has done a lot of weird shit, but nothing has bewildered me more than this. Because for the rest of the evening yesterday, and all throughout today he has insisted that he is wearing this mustache “…to punish Eric.”

What? WHAT?

How is this punishing anyone aside from me, who woke up to get Olive in the middle of the night, rolled over and in my sleepy state mistakenly thought I was in bed with my DAD (who had a mustache for the first 18 years of my life)?

HOW IS THINKING I’M IN BED WITH MY DAD PUNISHING ERIC?

Of course Eric, the one this abomination is supposed to be punishing, thinks it’s awesome. Adam keeps saying he’s going to shave it off because it looks so horrible but simultaneously threatens to keep it forever out of spite.

OUT OF SPITE? WHO ARE YOU SPITING? WHY DO YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE YOUR SPITE WITH YOUR FACIAL HAIR? I WANTED TO DO NICE FAMILY CHRISTMAS PICTURES YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING WHY CAN’T YOU SQUEEZE YOUR IRRATIONAL HATRED INTO A TINY BALL AND SHOVE IT DEEP DOWN INSIDE UNTIL ONE DAY YOU HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?

Also: I am quickly on my way to becoming the first person to gain more weight after having the baby than while actually pregnant. I haven’t gained anything yet, but its the only logical conclusion to the wicked sweet tooth I’ve developed lately which had me calling Adam “dickface” for eating my last L’il Debbie snack cake brownie.

Internets, what have I become? Six weeks ago I didn’t even know what a L’il Debbie snack cake was! I’m embarassed. But also kind of happy, because there’s a happy reason for this ridiculousness – I’m pregnant!

I kid! I kid.

No, it’s because my Gitelman’s is cured! Sort of.

(New here? what’s all this about Gitelman’s? Click to catch up.)

Right before my c-section, I tested for the highest levels of Potassium I have ever had. Ever. To the point where I made the anesthesiologist triple-check the results to make sure they were in fact mine.

I thought it was a fluke. Then I got my regular monthly bloodwork done about three weeks after Olive was born and I was testing in the normal range for all of my electrolytes. This has never ever happened – even after being in the hospital getting IV’s all night.

I spoke with my Nephrologist and he thinks that a hormone released by your body towards the end of pregnancy and while breastfeeding ,triggering my kidneys to keep electrolytes, so after taking a million pills a day for the past eight years I am now taking exactly zero. I’m not craving salt. And my tiredness is normal “I have a newborn baby” tiredness, nothing more.

It’s so weird. But also so fantastic and I kind of want to be one of those women who breastfeeds till her child is eight just so I can keep these benefits going.

Side effect of all this though, is that those crazy salt cravings have been replaced by crazy sugar cravings, which is way way worse. Because sugar is the devil and I know this, I swear that I know this, but also? Brownies.

I’m going to give myself a week or two to gorge myself on sweet, sweet refined sugar before I reign things in. I figure I have earned that for all of the pregnancy cravings I missed out on with the Diabeetus. That’s right, I amretroactivelysatisfying pregnancy cravings.

No, YOU don’t make sense!

Anyway. I’m going to go sniff my babies head and eat some ice cream and try and persuade my husband to shave that thing off of his face.

Good day.

       

                            Olive loves giving Lizzie the stink eye apparently.

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