False Alarm

Yesterday I started having annoying contractions at about 4:30 in the afternoon. I thought for sure they'd stop after an hour or so; I didn't worry about it and proceeded with my tasks. After two hours of progressively painful episodes, I started to wonder if I was actually in labor (yes, after two pregnancies, I still don't know what spontaneous labor feels like...inductions are the only way to go!) and figured I should go to the hospital. Adam and I loaded up the girls, who had not taken naps and were beyond grumpy, and headed up the street to check in.

Naturally, as soon as I was hooked up to the monitors and had endured thirty minutes of questions regarding my smoking status, etc., the contractions stopped completely. The best part of the whole experience was at the check-in desk when all of the women working said, "Oh, you're probably a pro at this since you've had two already. You must really be in labor!" I felt like such a dork. The only redeeming moment came when I walked out to the car where Adam and the girls were waiting: Amber asked if the doctor took my baby out of my tummy and Karli said, "Mommy, O.K.?"

To put the finishing touches on an especially irritating occurance, the girls didn't sleep at all last night. It was not my idea of fun to wake up to make three trips to the bathroom in the night and see two little heads poking up from toddler beds each time. Finally, at 5:30 a.m., they were awake for good. I got them out of bed and was treated to a symphony of whining, fits of rage, and Amber climbing on all of the kitchen countertops, stealing things from the cabinets, and dumping them all over the kitchen. She did, however, decide to tidy things up a bit by emptying the bottle of liquid dish soap all over the floor and using her sippy cup's contents to emulsify the cleansing concoction into a big, bubbly disaster.

I hope I can survive motherhood! :)