It’s been brought to my attention several times these past days that if Ramona wasn’t supposed to be here, she wouldn’t. I know. Not sure where all those icky thoughts come from, but they seem to be a reality of this situation.

I always feel better after I’ve gotten things off my chest. Thank you for your kind words and strong exhortations. Things around here at Rancho Ramona are going pretty smoothly today. Yesterday was another story.

I’ve redoubled my baby proofing efforts after Simon gave himself a wee bit of a shock yesterday morning. He was quite surprised, his finger was hot but not burned and he cried. I gave him some tylenol and things were improving when Ramona decided to pull out her NG tube. While her feeding pump was running. I didn’t notice until she had been marinating in her formula-soaked crib for awhile and, understandably, started to cry.

Simon was still a bit wobbly from his shock and I was terrified he would do it again (that’s the kind of boy he is), but I needed to finish Ramona’s feed. So I plopped Simon in our new-to-us hiking pack and strapped him to my back. The poor little guy got a bird’s eye view of an NG tube reinsertion and witnessed a shade of purple he’s probably never seen before on Ramona. Can you blame her?

But we made it through another day. That’s my new mantra. We made it through another day, we made it through another day. Today’s pic is of a paparazzi-style vehicle incident of Simon’s doing. Please note that after ramming his car into our prized peonies, he clawed his way out the side and ran away at top speed, pumping his right arm in smug victory.

Jane.

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