I got one day at home before we left for Oregon, to spend a weekend with the step-in-law family. It went fine, but it wasn't home. On Easter, the kids ran about finding eggs obviously hidden by the grown-up contingent, we drew chalk mandalas on the sidewalk, and before we departed for our 8 hour return drive, we all ate chinese food on our hosts' patio while the children ran around in sugar-high bliss.
And into clinic again. Clients mostly welcomed me back warmly (one in particular that the midwives didn't think would want me there after the break smiled when I entered the room and said "now you're ready for my baby, right?"), and none with "who the heck are you again and why do you want to be at my birth," which was nice. On Thursday, a whirlwind tour of the Aberdeen area. I am having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that there are clients out there, more than two hours from my home, whose births I am supposed to drive to. They have been warned it may not happen. I have heard of midwives who have two hour or more radius' for practice, and I can't see how that is workable.
Tired, tired, tired, and ever-so-happy to arrive in Friday, where my only obligations are a little kid-shuffling and playdate action.
Lest this become a whine-only post, I have a kid funny. While in Oregon, we went out to breakfast. BittyPrincess climbed into my lap and commented: "Mama, you smell bad. You smell like coffee, but not like our good coffee at home, you smell like bad coffee." That's my little PNW pre-coffee-snob.
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