Yeah...so this is long...and from yesterday

I had a MW appointment tonight involving higher than normal BP (for me) and swelling that got me confined to the couch with half a small tumbler of Guinness (as we don't have any wine) and a huge glass of water for the rest of the evening. At this point pre-e is not a concern, as my urine dip was protein and other pre-e indicator-free, and it's an isolated high BP, not a consistent one. She'll check on me in a day or two, and I'm under orders to sleep in tomorrow, as not getting enough rest appears to be a main trigger of high BP for me.
She said based on how I'm looking and how I appear to be feeling (extremely freaking pregnant, and snarky as hell), she really doesn't think I'll go much longer. B had to go into work to do inventory tonight, so she told me I could get up and do basic N care, but that after that, it was back to couch with a cup of chamomile tea. I have the cup of tea now, just so no one throws anything at me. :P She initially wasn't going to make another appointment for me for next week (thinking I won't make it that long), but I made her do it anyway. I just know if we didn't, I'll be pregnant forever.

Of course, this is the time N decides to make it clear just why he wasn't eating the last two days. He played nicely (in our kid-proof living room) and let me take a nap, after which I felt much better. He'd been gassy all day, so when his diaper had a suspicious smell, I thought I'd wait and make sure he was done and had actually done something before beginning the Diaper Wrestling Event. Biiiig mistake. Add up these three things: 1) Kid who has selectively eaten pretty much only wheaty, fiber-rich "digestive biscuits" for the last two days 2) Kid who hasn't had a dirty diaper in the last 4 days and 3) Kid who's seen other kids with the Nastiest Stomach Bug Ever a few times over the last couple of weeks. The result? 4 large spots of diaper leakage on my floor and a couple of toys. Thank goodness it got the wood and not the carpet.
So, even though I'm supposed to have been couch-rested for the evening, I get to wrestle my stinky, poop-dripping toddler into the bathtub. I run a bit of water without the rubber plug just to get him rinsed off, and notice that it's draining reeeeeeeeeeeally slowly. So, with naked, not-quite-clean kid playing at the other end of the tub (by playing, I mean picking up my shampoo bottles and chucking them at the inch and a half of water just to make them splash poopy water everywhere), I grab the plunger, and try to get the clog loose. Yes, disgusting I know, but the kid washes, and no way in hell am I letting a still-poopish child run naked anywhere in my house. After waiting for all of the water to slooooooooowly drain while dodging shampoo bottles (I did manage to finally distract him with a smiley face squirted in citrus shave gel on the wall), I then realized that yes, the rubber plug hadn't been used, but that the supremely obnoxious metal plug was still in place, and was apparently holding things up. @@
So then I call B about to melt down because I'm nine months pregnant, my kid apparently has a horrible stomach bug, I'm supposed to be avoiding any situation that might cause me stress, and he's at work and can't come take care of me or the bathroom that smells like little kid diarrhea. He sends me a sympatheitc "sucks to be you" (in nicer words than that), and tells me he'll be home as soon as he can.
I spend the next ten minutes trying to convince my happily splashing child that he must get out of the bathtub now, no, NOW, and come put his towel on. It takes offering the "Precious Papoose" song to get him out and he takes off sans towel as soon as his little feet hit the bath mat. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I actually look a hell of a lot better than I did earlier that evening. Figures. I track down the little nudist, wrap him in his towel, settle in to sing the promised song, and get shoved away with a "No!" He looooooooves Papoose. Why won't he let me sing it to him?
I wrestle him into his diaper and pjs, and it then takes him 45 minutes to nurse to sleep. B calls at minute 40, with N's eyes poised on the brink of Out, to tell me he's on his way home. I'm relieved, but geez, timing.
Fortunately, 5 minutes later, Out is reached by the small one, B is home, the spots on the floor and bathroom are cleaned up, and I am packed off to the kitchen to get my chamomile tea and throw together the no-bake oatmeal cookies (literally a 5 minute endeavor) I've been craving for the last two days. B goes to bed, and I, in my sleepy glory, am sitting at the computer with my tea, waiting for my cookies to cool, and then I am going to bed and following the midwife's orders to sleep in tomorrow. N will join us in our room sometime tonight, I'm sure, and since he didn't go down until 1, he'll sleep in too....at least, he'd better.
One more high point to the evening: This weekend, B's cousin, her husband, and B's aunt (well, ex-aunt, technically) are coming down with A's (cousin's) two kids to McPherson to see B's parents. I have NO desire to go. I like Aunt K, R's a nice guy, A's fine and the kids are cute, but I am extremely cranky, and have absolutely zippo patience with regards to in-law interaction at this stage of my pregnancy. B asked D (midwife) if I could go, and she said that under no circumstances am I to be stuck in the car for an hour, and that I am to be spending next week walking through botanical gardens and swimming, and avoiding situations that cause any tension or stress like the plague. Soooo, guess who got out of a trip to the ILs this weekend? B may not get to go either. I know it's only an hour away, but I'm really not sure I want him or N that far away from me right now.