Why, hello there.

So you may be asking yourself... what could possibly bring her out of her life-imposed blog silence after two months? The answer: EBOLA. E-freaking-bola.

In the 4th grade, I did a book report on Ebola and Bubonic Plague. Literally ever since, I've been obsessed with it. When Ebola broke out in Liberia, I knew about it before US news stations caught wind. When there was a single case of Bubonic Plague in China this summer, guess who was following it? This girl. (Btw- no one else got it besides the one guy.)

Being the wife of an airline pilot has it's own inherent risks. I've always been concerned with Bob's potential proximity to recycled germs. Now that Ebola has taken to the skies, my paranoia has taken my heart rate to stupid levels.

My husband, being the good Southern, well-mannered boy that he is, will stop and help anyone in the airport. They ask, he helps. They look lost, he helps. They're bleeding from their eyeballs and puking everywhere, he better not stop to effing help. We had to have this conversation this week.

This morning before he left for a trip to Texas (yay, better than Cleveland, I suppose), we had a frank discussion about Ebola. I'm not afraid of us getting it. I'm scared shitless of Charlie getting it. Is it unreasonable for me to be this afraid? Probably. But that's not stopping me from worrying about it. For the first time in my life, I'm responsible for someone's health other than my own. Holy crap.

Burning the midnight oil.

Or maybe the 4am oil, perhaps.

Charlie has his first cold. A cold that he apparently picked up AT the doctors office earlier this week. I adore our pediatrician and his staff. They are all awesome. I don't, however, love their waiting room. There is no division between perfectly healthy newborns there for their well baby checks and the snot nosed, puking, or bleeding 1-18 year olds. It's just aggravating. To go to the doctor and then get sick.

So anyway. We're dealing (meaning, I'm freaking out) with this new illness. I never knew baby poop could be so disgusting. My facebook friends have told me it gets worse, but holy balls. Tonight I made Bob change him. It was just as bad as it was last night. It literally seems like something crawled in his ass and died, and then came back out as green pudding. Yes, I know you all wanted that vision. Sorry. If I have to deal, so do you. You're lucky Bob didn't get his way tonight... He wanted to take a picture of it and send it to his friends. Thank GOD he didn't have his phone in the room with him, and I refused to go get it.

Bob goes back to work next week, and I'm already dreading it. It's going to suck being here alone. Not just dealing with Charlie alone, but actually being alone and not having anyone to talk to. I've had at least one other person in this house every day since February 21. It's going to be so quiet and boring here, and I've already binge-watched all of Orange is the New Black. Damn Netflix... I didn't realize the new season wasn't out yet. 

Welcome to my brain.

I think we've established that sometimes I'm a bit slow on the uptake. I don't deny it. My blonde roots show more often than not. This pregnancy isn't helping matters.

Since getting pregnant, I've been pretty happy that I wouldn't be pregnant during the summer. However, I never considered that I'd be pregnant during the winter instead. Winter. When we have ice and sleet and snow. When travel to and fro' the hospital gets iffy. When your husband barely makes it to work only to potentially get stranded in Maine because of the winter weather. As I said... slow.

The current winter storm we're experiencing has made me realize shit could get real. Soon. Right now, Bob is essentially stuck in Maine on an airline trip. Our roads are impassable at the moment. My car is not equipped to get through snow and ice. All these things make me remember we still have lots of winter left.

So. I'm hoping and praying that when little dude decides to make his entrance into the world it'll be a bright sunny day, with no inclement weather, and a Dad who is in the immediate tri-state area. When I was born, I was 5 weeks early. Let's hope dude man doesn't follow in his Mama's preemie footsteps. Plus, I selfishly want it to be warm, because the coming home outfit I've chosen won't be feasible if it's cold outside!

So think snuggly, happy, bun still in the oven until a warm, sunny day thoughts please!