When I hurt my stomach all of the information we found said that the first 48 hours is horrible and then it gets better from there. I am happy to report that it is true! I don't think I am going to do the Iron Man any time soon, but I am up and around. I can even chuckle.
Last night the rest of the family arrived and the house is abuzz. Aunt Cindy and Uncle Jamie, cousin Stacey and her little boy Drew all piled into a minivan (I covet her 'stow and go' seating) and came up for the fourth. Henry is so thrilled to have another little crumb snatcher to play with. It is actually the first time he's met his (second?) cousin (once removed?) and for the first 2 hours he called him "Drool" instead of "Drew". Oops. Right now we are getting ready to go to a small nearby town where we heard rumors of a yarn store/bakery. I plan on giving my son to his father and poking around in there for a bit. I must remember, however, not to get my pie too close to the cashmere. That could only spell disaster.
And we are off...
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