What a freakin' week this has been! Z got his ear tubes last Monday and things seem to be going well. The little ear plugs that they gave us when he left the hospital will only stay in his ears for .05 seconds before he rubs them and they pop out. He seems to be a bit cranky now a days, however, and I'm not sure if that is caused by his silly Mom getting water in his ears or the teeth that never seem to want to come in. Either way, there is quite a bit of ear rubbing, thumb biting in the Not-so-Pregnant abode, and not all of it is done by the Z man. In other baby news, Zac took off his pants last night (he was wearing a new two-piece pajamas set) and once again pooped in his sleep. The whole, pooping in the sleep thing normally doesn't bother me, but it was upsetting that he had done it sans-pants. The next step is a whole fist full of poop smeared all of the crib. I can see it coming.
I think I'm starting to adjust to life in the apartment. Last week, after a major rainstorm, I walked down into the kitchen and realized that it was raining indoors, through the kitchen light fixture and onto the ground. Turns out that the rain actually didn't cause the problem at all, but that a toilet had exploded in the upstairs bathroom (it's a two-story townhouse/apartment) and leaked through the floor and down to the kitchen. Good times, I tell you. I called maintenance and left the house, thankful that I didn't actually own the stinkin' place. By the time that I had come back from work, they had repaired the toilet and replaced the stained light fixture. Whether or not I will one day I will be cleaning said toilet and fall through the floor, landing on the kitchen linoleum remains to be seen.
S. and I are still hanging out. We had a long talk on Friday night about everything and he asked me not too worry so much. Me....not worrying so much! I'm a born worrier. Everytime I've felt confident about love or friendship, it has spelled the end of that relationship. I guess the best part about me maturing a bit more is that I don't feel compelled to air my insecurities to him or constantly have him reassure me about everything. I realize that I'm dealing with my own issues and I, instead, rely on my support system when I start to have a panic attack. I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to the aforementioned support system for crazy phone calls that you have gotten and will continue to get in the future.