The kids spent most of the weekend with John, and I think they had a good time. John, however, looked pretty tired this morning when he went to work.
I had to work on Saturday, and the day started off not great because I woke up with another pounding migraine. John knows that the best thing for me when I have one of my headaches is to lie down, so I rested while he played with the kids, even though I know he was pretty tired himself (we stayed up late on Friday night watching 'The Good Shepherd," which I totally did not get).
I had to work at three, and it was a pretty busy shift. We had several euthanasias, so I had to make paw prints to go to the owners. When a pet passes away, we make a clay impression of their paw, use rubber stamps to put their name on it, then bake it in a toaster oven to harden it, then mail it to them. I have one for Cupcake, and I really wish we had one for Howie. It's a nice way to remember a friend. The last pet was a hundred pound golden retriever that the doctor drove to Towson to put to sleep at his home. Then the owner brought the dog to the hospital, and I had to have another staff member help me put the dog in the freezer. When I first became a vet tech, putting someone's pet in a bag in the freezer was upsetting, but now it's just something that we do. What's never gotten any easier is watching the owner's grief. The night tech had a flat tire, so I was a little late coming home, but Maureen was in the midst of a marathon nap and Johnny was being good as gold.
On Sunday, the kids stayed with John yet again, while I headed to the spa for some much needed time off. While my mom and I got pedicures, lunched at Rocky Run, and shopped for baby gifts at Target, John took the kids to the memorial breakfast for his Grandfather Bernard. He died on the Fourth of July eleven years ago, and every year, Grandma Vic holds a memorial mass for him and takes everyone out for lunch afterwards. Last year, the waitress asked what the occasion was and Grandma Vic replied, "My husband being dead ten years." We knew what she meant, but the way it came out was hysterical. John skipped church, and his dad came over after mass to help him install the carseats in their van, since I was driving ours. Our next vehicle will be something that the kids seats can go in. An easier solution would probably be for me to learn to drive John's manual transmission truck, but my van has air conditioning and power windows.
Maureen has decided that she hates the bottle and refused to take it. John ended up mixing 4-5 ounces of milk with cereal and feeding her an enormous helping of oatmeal to get the milk in her. I'll have to ask the pediatrician for advice on this, because we may be facing weaning earlier than one year.
I had to work on Saturday, and the day started off not great because I woke up with another pounding migraine. John knows that the best thing for me when I have one of my headaches is to lie down, so I rested while he played with the kids, even though I know he was pretty tired himself (we stayed up late on Friday night watching 'The Good Shepherd," which I totally did not get).
I had to work at three, and it was a pretty busy shift. We had several euthanasias, so I had to make paw prints to go to the owners. When a pet passes away, we make a clay impression of their paw, use rubber stamps to put their name on it, then bake it in a toaster oven to harden it, then mail it to them. I have one for Cupcake, and I really wish we had one for Howie. It's a nice way to remember a friend. The last pet was a hundred pound golden retriever that the doctor drove to Towson to put to sleep at his home. Then the owner brought the dog to the hospital, and I had to have another staff member help me put the dog in the freezer. When I first became a vet tech, putting someone's pet in a bag in the freezer was upsetting, but now it's just something that we do. What's never gotten any easier is watching the owner's grief. The night tech had a flat tire, so I was a little late coming home, but Maureen was in the midst of a marathon nap and Johnny was being good as gold.
On Sunday, the kids stayed with John yet again, while I headed to the spa for some much needed time off. While my mom and I got pedicures, lunched at Rocky Run, and shopped for baby gifts at Target, John took the kids to the memorial breakfast for his Grandfather Bernard. He died on the Fourth of July eleven years ago, and every year, Grandma Vic holds a memorial mass for him and takes everyone out for lunch afterwards. Last year, the waitress asked what the occasion was and Grandma Vic replied, "My husband being dead ten years." We knew what she meant, but the way it came out was hysterical. John skipped church, and his dad came over after mass to help him install the carseats in their van, since I was driving ours. Our next vehicle will be something that the kids seats can go in. An easier solution would probably be for me to learn to drive John's manual transmission truck, but my van has air conditioning and power windows.
Maureen has decided that she hates the bottle and refused to take it. John ended up mixing 4-5 ounces of milk with cereal and feeding her an enormous helping of oatmeal to get the milk in her. I'll have to ask the pediatrician for advice on this, because we may be facing weaning earlier than one year.
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