Smellyann Strikes Again

Speaking Of My Boobs...

...Oh. You weren't? Well, let's, shall we? And if you'd rather not, just skip this one, because I'm feeling a verbose post coming on.

I went to the Virginia Oncology Center or something like that today. Here's the backstory: I had a lump checked in October of 2009. It turned out to be nothing. I had another lump in February or March of this year, and they were concerned enough that it got its own ultrasound. That led to a mammogram. My first mammogram, at the age of 34. In the end, the People Who Read It (PWRI, not that I'll probably refer to them again, but just in case) decided it was breasticular tissue and not a tumor or something insidious, so, case dismissed.

More backstory: My maternal grandmother had breast cancer in her 30s and 50s and also died of cancer throughout the body. (She was a longtime, heavy smoker, so I'm not sure from what part of the body that stemmed, and Grandpa's no longer around to ask these things, so, I dunno.) My mama died at age 33 from diabetes, so we don't know whether she'd have gotten it or not. She had no sisters. My dad was an only child of Christian Scientists, so I have absolutely no knowledge of the (female or otherwise) medical history on his side of the family.

Based on all this, my BFF, Dr. Lisa, recommended I get the genetic screen done for BRCA1 and BRCA2, ie., the breast cancer genes. So I asked my primary care doc, who agreed and put in the referral, telling me that based on my limited family history, Tricare (military insurance) probably would not approve. Lo and behold, she was wrong, and they agreed with Dr. Lisa that the screen was necessary.

So. You're all caught up. Today was my appointment with the Oncologist/Hematologist, who, incidentally, also gets direct referrals for post-gastric bypass patients needing intravenous iron supplementation, and it's his opinion that my labs will show such a need, too. (I'm very anemic, get deferred - rejected - all the time when I try to donate blood, and am so dizzy I almost black out on a regular basis. I'm supposedly on iron supplements, but I'm out right now, so. Anyway. Part of the visit covered all that, as an aside.)

Dr. G was extremely thorough, had an amazingly, astoundingly awesome bedside manner, and was completely unpatronizing when I asked a billion questions. I appreciated all of this and told him so, which elicited a quick, "Thank you for that." Again, anyway...

He took a detailed medical and family history on me, and then he did an exam that included a breast exam (did you know you're supposed to check all the way up to your collarbone and past your armpit to the middle of your under-upperarm area? I did not! I thought I knew where to check but was falling way short of the mark), a neurological work-up (I passed that, whew), and typical stuff like heart, lungs and belly listening-to-ness.

During that, he found what I had mentioned occasionally experiencing but never mentioning to anyone else, because I assumed - having heard it was possible - it was latent milk production: white secretions from both, erm, um, nipples. He took samples, which, thankfully, proved to be free of trace amounts of blood, but it was still something he scribbled down furiously on his ever-lengthening set of notes about me.

Then we sat down and chatted a whole bunch more. Based on his calculations and my history, it's his opinion that I need to see the genetic counselor, who will then refer me for the gene test. He could've just ordered it straight away, but we need to make sure Tricare will cover it first, so I don't get hit with a $3500 bill or something. Thanks, doc. 'Preciate it!  After the test, if I have the gene, we either get every-six-month pictures of my boobs and remaining ovary (hysterectomy in 2008 took the right one) via mammography and MRI, or we go for the more drastic route of preventative surgical removal.

I told him, "I'm all about getting new boobs!" and pointed to my pathetic little puppies. He laughed and said we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I told him I assumed it wasn't up to me, but rather the insurance coverage, but he assured me that, no, Tricare was really good about, "doing whatever I tell them to do." So if I have the gene, I'm totally getting new mams. Mark my words. Not sure if I'll let them take the ovary, too, though I'm not sure if it's an all-or-none proposition.

So when he asked me if I had any more questions, I said, "Yes, but nothing to do with my medical history or health..." and he said to go for it. So I asked him about his ethnicity, where he grew up, whether he'd ever broken his nose, etc. He answered all of my questions honestly. Ha! I apologized for my nosiness, and he said, "Fair questions, all!" I told him, "Well, you did get to feel me up, and all!" He blushed, laughed again and replied, "Not exactly medical terminology, but that's true..."

I like this doctor. Can you tell?

So, they'll call me in the morning with my appointment information for labs and the genetic counselor, since all that was closed by the time we were finished. And that's the news 'til now. Stay tuned!

Fin.

Friday Fragments

Link up here if you're fragmenting with Mrs. 4444 today!

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So if you've been following my saga here, on Facebook, in real life, or via ESP, you know I've been dealing with the fear that the cervical cancer that led to my complete hysterectomy in 2008 (save one ovary) had returned. Well, I finally got in to see my GYN/oncologist yesterday, and the news was very good: there's no "Big C" in there, my "cuff" (what's left after they remove your lady bits) is well-healed, and I have a completely healthy, normal, uh, vah-jay-jay. So, yay! I'm celebrating today. How, you ask? By being happy. Smiling. Being content. And I'm going to practice what I preach to my children, by being "nice, kind, sweet and loving," to them and everyone else I may meet today. And hopefully, every day.

One last woot: Woot!

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Tomorrow, I'm finally taking the Instructor's Course for the American Red Cross CPR/First Aid certification, so I can teach it to other Girl Scout volunteers and, if I want, whomever else may be interest. I've already gotten interest from the parents and teens in my homeschooling co-op, so maybe someday soon I'll be up in FRONT of the class demonstrating lifesaving techniques to my friends, instead of being the nervous fake-lifesaver on the floor, scared my dummy is going to expire before I can save it. Hee. Anyway, I'm excited. I just feel like this is one more step in the "growing" course I set myself on last year, to step out of my comfort zone and be more in charge of my life, instead of taking the back seat and letting others drive me around. If that makes any sense to you and not just me, good. It's early, yet.

The one thing I'm a little nervous about is, I have to give a brief presentation on the topic of my choice to my fellow classmates, and the only thing that's coming to me to talk about is what I know well: Loss. Grief. Bereavement. So... I'm not sure that will be the most fun topic for them to hear about, but I think I'm gonna stick with it.

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After the course is over, the busyness continues. My family and I are headed for a full-on mystery shopping weekend in DC, complete with dinner at a fun restaurant, a hotel stay in Rockville, Maryland, breakfast at the hotel, lunch in the District at a well-known, huge restaurant, and then home again to run around doing about a half-dozen fast food mystery shops for dinner. I've been cutting way back on the mystery shopping now that school, co-op, and Scouting are back in full swing, but this will be fun. I like to travel, and I need to do it frequently or I get depressed and feel like I'm stagnating. Plus, I love DC. I just wish we had more time to go around and "do," y'know?

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Oh! Sophia's saga continues as well. She's my 6yo daughter, who has struggled with breathing issues over the past year or so. She has had daytime issues as well as, we discovered through a sleep study ordered by the pulmonologist at Children's, central sleep apnea. After a recent MRI, we went back to the neurologist yesterday to discover that there are absolutely no anatomical abnormalities within her brain, which is great news. And her labs were all perfect. So, we don't have a concreet reason why she has the apnea, but it's minor enough that I don't have to fret and watch her sleep every night. We just have to watch and see. It's still a little nerve-wracking, but the Neuro. assured me that I can relax and not worry, and I believe her. Now, we go back to Pulm. with these results and see what they want to do next.

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This afternoon, we have a field trip to the pumpkin patch with members of our homeschooling co-op, and I can't wait. Hayrides are one of my favorite things ever. I could go on one every single day. I don't know what it is about sitting on a bale of scratchy hay, being pulled around by a tractor going 3 mph, but I love it. The kids do, as well, but they're more excited about the petting zoo and pumpkin picking process (say that 5x fast) to follow. Can't wait!

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My JAFRA business continues to grow and go well, although now everyone is getting busy, so I'm trying to find new and creative ways to meet people and get them to sit down with me. We went to the mall the other day, and I handed out candy bags with my card and an offer for a free pampering session in them. So far, no response from that, but if I can just get one, just one, then it will be worth it. Meanwhile, I'll be doing a few holiday craft shows/bazaars with my product front and center, so hopefully that will be a great way to get the JAFRA name out there and some clients for me!

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Well, I guess I'm out of fragments for the time being, so here's to hoping a great weekend is ahead for all of you! Cheers!

Fin.

Aloha Friday

Link up here if you're playing along with Kailani at An Island Life this week!

My question for you this week is:

What's the happiest, best news or thing that's happened to you in the past week?

For me, it was going back to my old oncologist yesterday and finding out that I am CANCER-FREE after having a recurrence scare for the past three weeks. WOOHOO!!!!!  I am so thankful, so grateful, so relieved, so thrilled!!!

Have a great weekend!

Fin.

Damn That Man

...Because it's easier to blame my day falling apart at the seams on him than it is to accept it myself, I'm going to go with that. Yeah.

Yesterday ended, and today began, here. Pretty much. Picture it: Living room, 0230, I'm lying there wide awake after having the fever-sleep off and on during the day, even having taken a sleeping pilly. Nada. Nope. Not happening.

So I decided to get up and monkey around in the office. I've been selling lots of tutus at the clearance price lately, which makes me want to make up more with the tulle I've got, and sell those, too. I just want to be rid of it all and make room for ... something else. Or nothing. Nothing would be great. Empty space, I dream of you.

And then, Sophie comes trotting down the stairs, wide awake, telling me that she can't sleep. Only, no sooner did I collect my sweet babe into my arms, than she fell asleep in them. Look at her. She is so big... but she is still little. I love that paradox of childhood. Big! But little!

I set her on the couch with her father and went back to the office to fiddle. First I made this tutu:

in charcoal and ivory, for no one in particular. Just for Etsy. I had many-hundred blogs to read in my Google Reader, and e-mails to answer, and, well, Farmville to keep me company while I made the tootie-toots. Because 0400 didn't seem late enough to stay up, I stayed right there and worked on this one:

in eggplant and ivory. Every time I finish a new tutu, I think, "Ohh, that's so pretty!" I think they all are. I wish I could wear one. I wish my girls wore theirs every single day. They used to. I think they got overloaded with tutus, though. But I digress.

So by the time I finished the second tutu and read about, oh, 400 blogs (mostly skimmed and deleted; I delete the fun and fluff ones like design and celebrity blogs when I have too many to read, but I almost always read all the parenting and knitting ones), it was well nigh on 0700. Time to get the kids up for school.

Oh yes, school. Remember that place? They didn't want to go back. Especially Jack. He pitched a royal fit. And neither of the Bigs knew where their glasses were. And Rob didn't want to get up and help get them ready, and I was beyond tired by that point, and and and. But somehow, we got them off in one piece.

Rob went upstairs to nap, while I read through some of my favorite blogs for deals and freebies and such. Today was supposed to be my day for sanitizing the house, but instead, I found rather a lot of good deals to be used at LH Mall. And I decided to take a fun day, a day for me, free of the house, free of the flu, free of work, free of the kids, free of the dreaded cleaning.

And why not? It would all still be there when I got back.

Only, it didn't quite work out that way.

I was hoping to be at the mall by 10:00 and home well before the bus came after 1500.  Instead, my husband woke up while I was showering, and overcome by the forces of attraction of my major loose saggy skin naked body, he sequestered me to the room for the next, um, two hours. Yes, two hours. Good times, good times. I didn't complain much.

TMI? Whatever. You know I don't shy away. 

I will tell you this, too: he had a fever, so his balls were hanging so low, I told him he should just go as a pair of nuts for Halloween. He was practically tripping over them! Wait, maybe that was TMI, even for moi.

My BFF Lisa, from New York, wanted a picture of my hair from all sides.  I semi-styled it and had Rob take pictures. They aren't great, but here's a current one of me. He insists I have a major wonky eye. Do I? If so, then my apologies to Dr. Michael Bidus (of hysterectomy fame last year) for mentioning his! (And eek, I look more like my dad all the time. Scary.)

So. By the time I got downstairs, it was noon o'clock, and the preschool was calling me to say Sophie had a sore throat and could I please come get her?

Here we go. Day over.

I kind of figured they wouldn't last, which is why I wanted to get to the mall so early. Damn that man!

Of course, I rushed right out to pick her up. She had a miserable look on her face when I entered, but as soon as she saw me, Sophia brightened right up and smiled the biggest grin ever. She jumped out of her chair, where she was NOT eating birthday cake, and ran over to me. "Mommy! Mommy!"

We collected all her belongings, and then, naturally, I though it would be a good idea to head over to the main school and check on Jack and Chloë. I didn't want to get all the way home and then get a call to come back for them!

Mrs. B., Chloë's language arts teacher, was right at the front of the school when we came in, so I got her attention . She took me into the cafeteria to find Chloë, but Curls wasn't there. Where could she be?

The nurse. She was already at the nurse. Good thing I arrived to swoop in and take her home!

Jack was brought in, but he insisted he was fine and wanted to stay at school. Major shocker there!! I said good-bye and then left with the girls.

The girls, at this time, both seemed more or less fine, just a little disappointed to be missing their Halloween parties. I had no clue they were really still quite sick. I am, apparently, pretty stupid. Damn me! It's the FLU, for heaven's sake, and they are little children. I should have given them at least a week. But I didn't. Sigh.

We went home to, I don't know, get my coupons for the mall and drop off their school stuff. We kissed Daddy good-bye, as he was headed to work, and left for the mall venture.

Our first stop - which, as warm as the day was, probably should have been our last - was to Edible Arrangements to pick up our free six-piece chocolate-dipped fruit sampler. Nice, huh? Did you see that promotion for becoming a fan on Facebook? Well, you know I had to jump all over that. Nice freebie! Too bad I couldn't partake.

While there, I got a phone call about doing a certain kids' shoe store mystery shop, at THAT mall. I didn't want to take it, but I can never say no, and heck, I was already there anyway. So I accepted it.

And then in the parking lot to drive over to the main mall parking lot, I got another call from someone who had found me via Google, needing a tutu TONIGHT. An all-black, ladies' size small, black tutu. I didn't have any black tulle, but she sounded absolutely desperate, so I told her I'd find some and make her the tutu tonight. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I only quoted her $25 for it, too, when in reality, I would have charged her more like $40-50 i f I wasn't clearancing! Dodo-head, I am!

Anyway, so the race was on to get our mall stuff done and then get back to get Jack. I was in a mad hurry. The girls were dawdling. I was pulling them along. That was the scene.

We went to Old Navy in the mall first. All Halloween items were marked down to $2 for today and tomorrow (Halloween) only, plus I had a coupon for 15% off that!   I managed to score these 14 things for less than $25. All of which we can use either now or this time next year. It won't be wasted. And hey, $2. Can't beat it. (Well, you can. $1, say, or 50¢. But just you hush.)

We hurried to the other side of the mall, where I had a coupon at Vickie's Secret for a free lip gloss with a bra fitting. Um, the girl wanted to measure me right in the middle of the store, over my shirt. I gave her a weird look, so she pulled me into the dressing room hallway and still measured me over my shirt. After my last professional fitting, which took about an hour, at the boob store, this was bewildering to me! (Before, I was a 38G. Now she measured me at "either" a 38DD or a 40D - my choice. Uh, I think I'll go back to the boob store.) All I really wanted was the free lippy anyway, and I got it!

Next up, I had a coupon for a free anti-bacterial thingy at Bath & Body Works with any purchase, and it was right next store. I scooped up some of the 5/$5 hand sanitizers - which turned out to be the free gift anyway - and was heading toward the cash wrap when we ran into none other but Linda!

After the initial recognition, she said to me, "Hey, you don't look sick." This was after telling me yesterday that, on the phone, I didn't sound sick. It kind of annoyed me. I don't care how I look, I don't care how I sound... I'm telling you how I feel, and how I feel is I HAVE THE FLU. Plus I was in a huge hurry to get back and get Jack, so I was maybe a little pissy with her. Or maybe not, I really don't know, but I'm kind of irritated with her about something else entirely and don't care right now! The girls saved me by saying they both had to go potty RIGHT NOW, so I threw back all the products and ran them down the mall to the bathroom.

And then I remembered that shoe store shop I'd taken on (which I still haven't reported, oops). We quickly did the purchase portion of the shop and walked out with a new pair of boots, "for Sophia."

Next door, I had a coupon for The Picture People, for a free session and 8x10. My very original plan was to bring Rob in there this morning, in his uniform, to take the picture his mom has been asking for for at least two weeks now. But he STILL didn't have the uniform ready. Then we, uh, wasted those two hours, and he didn't have time after that. So I decided to see if they had an appointment left for later in the day, to get the kids done in their Halloween costumes. They had one. I made it. We left.

It was time to go get Jack. We tore through the mall, and when we were almost at the van, I realized Sophie didn't have "her" boots with her, which she had begged to carry!!! Feck! Thankfully, I had the phone number to the portrait place on their coupon, and they had the boots and would hold them for me. Phew.

Traffic was major by that point, and I was pleading-praying to be home in time for the bus. It was already 10 minutes later than I'd wanted to leave... but we made it! Three minutes ahead of schedule, AND the bus was a few minutes late.

Jack, who had been quite the perky boy in school, burst into tears the minute he saw me. He was warm. He felt crappy. I could see it in him. I carried him all the way home, but sadly, we couldn't stay there. I'd promised to get that tutu done, I'd made the picture appointment, and we'd left the boots behind where I needed to back and return them anyway.  AND I'd promised to bring Rob dinner, meaning he'd left home without any food. Sheee-it.

So we went back out. At first, we stopped at Boston Market, where I had that coupon for a $1 chicken meal. It sounded good to me, and would feed all four of us! We waited in the long drive-thru line for half an hour, with all the kids coughing and finally, sleeping, in the back, before it dawned on me that my wallet was still at home in the Old Navy bag. Gah!

So I had no choice but to go all the way back home and get it. Forget Boston Market, that would have to wait. We went to A.C. Moore, where I knew they carried the tulle. In black. I'd gotten it there before. They turned out to only have ONE small roll of it, whereas I'd need at least four to make the tutu.  I picked up some other foofoo things for finishing tutus (it's a sickness, I tell you) while the nice lady called the other store to see if they had some. They didn't.

We drove to Michaels. They didn't have it.

Joann's didn't have it.

Party City didn't have it.

Hancock's didn't have it either, but they had bolts of black tulle fabric! I'll take it!! I knew it was going to be a lot more work for me, but I'd promised the girl I'd make it, and I didn't want to let her down.  We bought the whole bolt, all 8 yards at $1.99/yd, since I had no clue how many it would take in that form, and I could always use the rest in another tutu.

Then we headed straight back to the mall. I knew the pictures weren't happening, since they were all pretty cough-y and cranky and cry-y by that point, but I at least had to get the boots and finish the shop. So I rescheduled the picture appointment for Sunday afternoon. Hopefully they'll all be well enough by then to do it cheerfully.

Quick poll: Should I still do the Halloween picture on Sunday? Or just a casual one of them? Or maybe one of all five of us? Please tell me what to do; I can't decide.

B&BW was right there, so we went back to use that coupon. This time, I found a $1 bottle of lotion, and bought that to get my free hand sani. It smells GOOD, too! (The sani; not so found of the lotion, but it's okay.)

I had one last coupon, for $1 tarts and votives at Yankee Candle. I burn those tarts like a crazy woman, and they are normally $2 - and the kids had temporarily rallied - so we ran in and grabbed 10 of the three newest scents. I'd thought I wouldn't really like the Autumn Wreath one, but it turned out to be my favorite of the fall scents. It smells amazing!! I can't wait to burn it.

Finally, I grabbed my cantankerous crew and headed home. They were so relieved. Poor, poor babies.

They lay in the living room, sipping water, while I worked hard and fast on the black tutu for this evening. It took forever to cut all that tulle up into the proper-sized strips and then cut those strips into the lengths I needed. It was tedious, and this was the one tutu I didn't enjoy making. 

But I finished! At 2000 hrs, it was complete. I called the girl to let her know she could come get it.

No answer.

I left a voicemail.

At 2030, I called again. No answer.

At 2100, I called again. No answer.

I gave up after that. It's now 0030. I am seriously, seriously pissed. If she stands me up after all we went through to make this tutu for her - for so cheap!!! - I am going to hunt her down and beat her ass. (Never you mind that I'm a total wuss. I will do it.)

By this point, Jack was dead asleep on the couch, and the girls were pretty chill. Rob had talked me into getting not only HIS food, but food for his two night-duty crew members, too. Something about gratitude and loyalty, yadda yadda.(He's the boss, you know.) I had just gotten a MyPoints offer for Dominos pizza & subs, so I jumped on that. He didn't want the Bostom Market thing, so that'll have to keep 'til tomorrow. 

The food arrived, and I roused everyone to go out to the base. They were all sound asleep in the car when we got there. Rob came out and got all the food - including the chocolate fruit I brought along - and that was it. Gone in a flash. I felt a little underappreciated!

So now we're home, and that's that. The black tutu is still here, and I'm seething about it. But I had a fun day of "treats," and a miserable day of being a shitty mother to my kids.

Tomorrow, they are NOT going to soccer! Their whole job this weekend is to rest and get much better before attempting to trick-or-treat or go back to school.

Oh, and find those fricking glasses.

Fin.

P.S. Sorry for the length. I never, ever start out intending it to be so long!

Bunny-Like

As in, quick. For me. We shall see...

I've jumped back into the grind at work.  The Z-pack has really kicked the pneumonia/sinusitis/pharyngitis/bronchitis' ass, and I'm feeling pretty good. Except for having to run to the bathroom every so often to hack up a lung, that is.

And three things have happened in the last two days at work that have me feeling pretty good about myself:

1. A sweet old man, after telling me that he was doing "so-so," told me that if he was a "cute young chick" like me, he'd be doing fantastic. Did someone say "cute"?
2. A much younger man, maybe five years older than Rob (so early 40s), told me today that I had a very nice smile.
   
3. A much younger man, maybe my age, maybe younger, and sexy as hell, winked at me from three or four registers away. Take that as you will, but Rob's interpretation was, "Hey, you're a cute girl!"

So apparently, losing 140 pounds done wonders not only for my outward appearance but inner self-esteem. I'm liking things right now. I'm liking them very much.

When work is slow, and it often is, we are supposed to stand at the end of the check-out lane and wait for customers, to invite them in. Sometimes, 20 minutes will go by in the early mornings, with no takers. So I have lots of time to daydream. Thinking about my weight loss, and having talked to one of my managers about my surgery, I imagined a conversation wherein she asked me how I'd gotten so fat in the first place. And I'd give her the several reasons/excuses/explanations, not the least of which is that I really ate my way through my depression for the years following Robby's death. And that started me thinking about the depression and the suicide attempts. There were many. At least six, I think. And the kids remember the last one, although they do not know that that is what was going on. They bring it up from time to time, and it pains me. So then I was thinking about how, despite being broke as a joke, happy I am in my "new" body, how good I'm feeling (thanks in no small part to my bipolar diagnosis and nightly meds cocktail) mentally, and how awful, just how awful, it would have been if I had been successful.

How much I love those kids. How much they need me. How much I need them. How I would have completely devastated them, their lives, their futures...

So I'm grateful, very, very grateful, to have failed at that singular aim. I wanted so badly to take Robby's place. I was trying to die for the one I lost instead of living for the three I still had. I'm so thankful to have stepped out of that cloud and come back, if you will. I'm a lucky girl, in so many ways.

So much for this being a quick one.

So Rob is working nights now - did I mention that? He started last night - and it completely sucks. I was not cut out to be a single parent; I have said that before. I like sharing the duties, having someone to complain to and commiserate with about the hard parenting stuff, and you know, sharing the good, fun times, too. But mostly I miss having someone to split up the chauffering duties with!

Today, as soon as the kids got home from school, I had Chloë change out of her school clothes and into her dance leotard and pants. We headed back to HT (my work) to:

1. Show my pre-surgery picture to my manager, C, whose jaw completely dropped,
2. Buy the Pink Ribbon 99¢ cookies (which had been discounted 75% and which were apparently pretty nasty) for the kids' after-school snack,
3. Buy Tic-Tacs and get a dollar back, for Tooth Fairy duties tonight (yes, she struck again), and
   
4. Talk to same manager, C, about changing my availability, now that Rob is working nights.

That was a quick in-and-out, during which each of the kids acquired a free helium balloon. Two of them, the younger pair, let theirs go as soon as we walked out of the store. Scoundrels!

We headed straight over to dance class then. Chloë went in to dance, and Jack came up front with me to do his homework. From his homework folder, I pulled out his School PIctures and had the horrified-yet-amused reaction to this awful pose:

Uh.Muh.Guh. Is that awful, or what? I showed it to Jack, and he burst out laughing! I was amused at his reaction, but geez.... it's terrible! (And look how yellow his teeth look! They really are not that yellow IRL). Since I never took his 6-year pictures at Sears, I was just going to let his end-of-kinder pix and beg-of-1st pix suffice, but, holy cow. I think I will keep some of these just because Jack thinks they're so hysterical, though!

Chloë's is much nicer:

I like it, although Rob absolutely detests that dress, and her face looks much rounder here than IRL. I can see Robby in her when I look at this picture.

So. Homework progressed, and he did pretty well. He farted majorly stinky farts the whole time and kept cracking up at himself. Ugh. Such a boy!! He couldn't decide what he was prouder of, smelling like shit or that awful photograph!

He still does NOT know how to write the numbers from about 11+, so I am constantly making him write them and then tell me what they are. It's just not sinking in and is becoming very frustrating for both of us. I'll have to come up with a much funner way to do it.

Anyway, dance ended, and we went directly to IH*P for dinner, for a shop. That went pretty well, although they seat all parties with kids in the same section, and some of the rowdier kids in the bunch got mine going, which annoyed me. My kids KNOW how to behave in a restaurant, but when they are hyped up, it all goes to pot. Guess I know why they seat them all together in the back!

There was a very nice family seated right behind ours, and there was a lot of cross-chat between our two families. So it was with no hesitation half-way through our meal that I got up, tapped the other mother on the shoulder and whispered, "Can you please keep an eye on my kids? I have to go throw up!" yeah, I'm still doing a lot of that. She was more than willing to help, so I went off to do that, and when I came back, after questioning me about my okay-ness, she informed me that they basically shared their whole lives in five minutes. Mostly about school, phew! At least no one blew our cover.

Back at home, I suddenly remembered the massive day I have tomorrow. I'll tell you about it now, just because I'm doubtful I'll have time to blog much about it after the fact:

1. To my PCP for my PAP, the first one since my hysterectomy, to make sure the bad guys haven't returned. (I think I will absolutely scream if anything comes back abnormal again. Cross your fingers! Or your labia!)
2. To Newport News for my 9-month post-surgery check-up, which will take an hour or so each way to drive, 15-30 minutes in the waiting room, and 5 minutes, max, with the doctor
3. To the bank to finally deposit the remaining Brownie troop dues
4. To the post office to mail three tutus I just made tonight after Etsy orders came in and re-mail Jack's 2T wardrobe (which was returned because I used an alcohol box the first time, wasting $12. Bah!)
5. Home to bake something, anything, for
6. Collect the kids and take them to Troop Leader's house for Juliet Gordon Lowe's birthday party (and bring my entire XXXXXXXXXXL wardrobe to M to try on later)
   
7. Leave early to go to Chloë's soccer practice (which we missed on Tuesday b/c I felt like utter doodyballs)
8. Leave early to go to Sophie's soccer practice
9. Leave early to go to Jack's den meeting (or is it a pack meeting? I forget now, it's almost 2 AM), where they are NOT to wear class-A uniforms but instead must come in costume and bring their pumpkins from the pumpkin patch visit a couple weekends ago.

So. After we got home from dinner, Chloë started her homework while Jack, Sophia and I carved their pumpkins. I made them rip out the innards - which they hated and bellyached about to no end - before I would carve them. They did a half-ass job, though, so I found myself arm-deep in gourd guts anyway. I am a crappy jack-o'-lantern maker. Observe:

It didn't matter, though, because they were both thrilled with the results and said they were exactly what they wanted. Great! Who could ask for anything more? (Sophia went to the Farmer's Market with her preschool class last week, and they all got a pumpkin there. Chloë doesn't have one yet.)

After the pumpkins, they had a quick dessert, and the littles went to bed. Chloë and I finished her homework and worked on getting the soccer gear ready for tomorrow's tour-de-Virgina Beach, and had a conversation that left me in tears. She was telling me about a classroom assignment today, wherein they had to choose a word to describe themselves, starting with each letter in their first names. She chose caring for the "C" and loving for the "L" and I forget what for the "E," not able to think of anything for the "H" or "O."

I said, "What about 'happy'?" To which she broke my heart by replying, "But I'm not happy. I'm mad. All the time."

Oh, my God. I knew she was stressed out, but I did not think she was NOT happy. I don't care if my kids are cute. I don't care if they're smart. I don't care about any of that, as long as they are happy. Above all, I want my kids to be happy kids. My heart broke when she said that, it really did.

She came over to me, and we had a very long conversation about it, a heart-to-heart. There were lots of details, but basically it seems that the crux of the matter is that she doesn't like Sophia, wants to be an only child, and wants her own room back. When she said she didn't like Sophia, I bawled. Why does that hurt so much? I know it's normal. I know it is. But I'm pretty darn fond of the kid, and I want her older sister to be, too. Pain.

I told her I'd talk to Daddy about putting her back in her own room, and we'd go from there. I hope that solves things. She really is stressed out. Mommy yelling, Daddy yelling, problems with friends, problems with school/schoolwork/tests/the gifted class, etc., don't seem to be the matter. I worry about Jack and Sophia sharing a room, but I care much more about Chloë's mental health than I do about more destruction of physical property.

Phew. Heavy stuff.

On a lighter note, no sooner did Chloë go up to bed than she came running back down to tell me, "Jack climbed up on the dresser and then peed a fountain out into the room!"

Good golly, where is my husband when I need him??!!!?!

S'late. I'm out.

Fin.

Still Grieving

Twenty-five years ago today, my mother died very suddenly and unexpectedly. I was seven. (You're doing the math, aren't you? Yes, I'm 32.) Though a quarter of a century has passed, I miss her every bit as much today as I did throughout the rest of my horrible childhood. It would be nice to have my mommy even now, as a mother myself. When friends get pregnant, they call their moms. On Mother's Day, they call their moms. When they give birth, Mom comes to watch or wait, and then to help out. When their children are sick, they call Mom for advice. I have a wonderful mother-in-law for that, but (sorry) somehow it just isn't the same for me. My mom was a beautiful, angelic creature, and I know I have put her on a bit of a pedestal, but she really was awesome. Ask anyone who knew her. RIP, Mama.

The mourning season doesn't end tomorrow, for it is my mother's mother's birthday. Yep, she died the day before her mom's birthday, which ruined the occasion for Grandma after that. Very sad. Grandma's been gone, oh, nearly ten years now, and I miss her crazily too. She was a wonderful grandma to me, and I have her and Grandpa to thank for most of the happy bits I can remember about growing up.

One year ago today, I lost the ability to have any more children. Not that any were planned, but when the choice is taken from you, I don't know... for me, it saddens. I can't believe it's already been a year since my hysterectomy. I've long since recovered from that and often forget I've had it! But the baby pangs linger.

********

Thanks for all the well wishes for Blue-cat! She is doing just fine. When Rob went to get her out from under the bed yesterday, he brought her downstairs, and suddenly there was blood all over the floor. An awful lot of blood for such a small kitty, it seemed.  We put her in a box, and Rob rushed her to the animal hospital.

The vet said it looked like she had been fighting, but I never heard any kind of scuffle between her and Tink or anyone else, so I just don't know how that could be! But she had torn the pads of her two front pads, knocked out a tooth, and bitten her tongue. The blood was all from her mouth, which I couldn't believe, after seeing so much.

The vet has rescued a lot of feral kitties, so she gave Rob lots of advice for getting her accustomed to our family and calming down. We're going to try those over the next few weeks and see if we can't get her feeling more comfortable. They involve confining her to the bathroom and sitting in there with her, and swaddling her like a baby and NEVER putting her down, for anything! Who has time for that?! But we'll give it a go. Just wish I still had a baby carrier of some sort!

When they came home, we held her and petted her - and Tinkerbell did NOT like that, but she'll get over it. She's really very sweet, but so scaredy. Now you know where that epithet comes from! We tried swaddling her, but she squirmed this way and that and bolted. Rob caught her, and put her in the bathroom, but she bolted away again when he next opened the door. Gah. This is going to be fuuuuun. :)

********

There was a lot of running around for me today. When my alarm went off, I woke up and called the children into my room (they were downstairs watching Noggin already!) to help me with the laundry. We folded three baskets, and then I showered and got ready to go.

Rob came home, and I left the children with him while I drove up to Newport News for my appointment with the nutritionist. I kind of got in trouble for the paltry amount I've been eating - and not exercising - for the past three weeks that I've been sick, but she understood as she's sick herself right now. I can't help it that I had the flu and a cold back-to-back, and it's really knocked me on my arse! So I've got 'til next week to get my act together, and then I really need to work on those things. Fingers are crossed that The Sick is totally gone by then!

I gave it a shove out the door by washing lots of stuff down with Clorox wipes tonight. Downstairs, anyway. I'll work on upstairs later...

Anyhoo, when I came home, I had a little free time before we had to go again, so I got the kids started on today's activity. I had three sticker books, and card stock, and lots of crayons and things, so we decided to make Easter cards for their grandparents, aunts, uncles & cousins! They loved the idea an took off with it. Good thing, because I had to vacuum, clean the bathroom and help straighten up the kitchen before Stim got here to babysit.

 

Sophia was the one who was least into today's craft. I was surprised, since she is my little Sticker Queen. The girl loves stickies and will put them all over her body, all over the carpet (ugh!!) and whatever else she can get away with. But nope, I really had to push her to make her cards.

 

Jack was signing his name and writing "Happy Easter" on all of them without my prodding!  He liked this one.  He drew a car on one card and insisted that one had to be for Tim. He loves Tim!

 

Of course, Chloë was all over this idea! She really filled out her cards, and when she deemed the Nons' cards as "not having enough," she grabbed them to add more. She wants to make more tomorrow. We shall see!

Time was up when it was time to take her to a Brownies meeting at our Troop Leader's house.  We had to stop at the store for some bananas, since everyone was supposed to bring a snack, and I was pleased to hear later that everyone ate one. I was going to stay with her, but then I found out they were going to be there a while. Another mom, T, offered to take her home, since Rob and I were going out tonight, and I accepted.

Then T and I stayed out in the driveway for another 45 minutes, shooting the breeze! She knows all about my surgery, as she's a nurse, so we caught up on that, and about her baby (oh, Vivian - you've seen her here before), and who knows what else. We decided that her daughter Kori would spend the night here next Wednesday, for Chloë's make-up sleeover that never happened for her birthday. Yay! I'm kinda nervous!

At home, we got ready to go, and the Littles cleaned up their toys in the living room. I did a quickie vacuum, and then Stim were here. I gave them the instructions for tonight, and then went out to dinner.

(For you locals, we went way down to General Booth and Dam Neck, to a place called Francesca's.) We had a $25 Restaurant.com gift certificate for there, which I'd bought for $2! The place was cozy, and the very-Italian server was lovely, but the food? Eh. Ehhhh. Not so wonderful. It's too bad, because it seemed like it should have been good, but it just wasn't. And they really did not have a gastric bypass-friendly menu, which sucked for me. I got sick and spent a long time in the bathroom. Rob ate a ton, though it wasn't spectacular. I was happy to see him eat so well.

We were already halfway home before Steph texted me that Chloë had gotten home at last! I couldn't believe she was there that long. Two hours longer than I expected! But she had a great time, did lots of activities, and ate lots of snacks.

And now, I'm going back to my July '08 scrapbooking. Hey, did any of you watch Parks and Recreation tonight? I forgot to set the DVR for it and really wanted to see it. Was it good? Funny? Tell me what you thought, but no spoilers please!

Fin.

To Thank Or Not To Thank

Well, that is not really the question. Of course, there will be thanking. Just, how?

Satchi is going to keep the kids for the next three days. Rob will be bringing them over before the sun comes up, at the most ungodly time of 0430. Now, I don't know about you, but when my kids are awakened in the middle of the night, they think it is time to be up for good. Until they crash, yes, but they are raring to go in the meantime.

So not only is she doing us this enormous favor of watching the children for such long hours, she is probably going to be losing lots of precious sleep in the process. And she refuses money for payment.

What should we do to express our gratitude, then? I like to bake; should I shower her with baked goods? Everyone likes baked good, yes? But do the Japanese...?

Anyway, your suggestions would be most welcome. {Her husband is away at school right now.}

Fin.

Bowel Prep

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! *whine*

I want to puke, I want to cry. Drinking that salty Fleet shit is SO nasty!! And I have to do it again in two-and-a-half hours! *wail*

Oh, God. And I haven't even begun the, well, you know... *whispers* the poopin'!

Is it over yet??!!

Fin.

And Still Alive To Tell About It

So I had my biopsy today.

I did end up staying up all night scrapping, for a total of 30 pages over the weekend. I made a lot of progress, and I'm happy that I'm finally near completing our 2007 album. I think it looks good - mostly; there're always pages I'm not happy with - and I'm well pleased with it. 

But I miss my knitting! I'm going to keep my scrapping out all over the table until I'm done with the book (hopefully that will be tonight), and then get jump back into my yarn for the while. I've about gotten sick of scrapping for the time being!

I jumped in the shower around 0430 this morning, while Rob readied himself and the children. We got to the hospital ten minutes early, and that's when I remembered I forgot to bring my weewee sample. Oops. Had to do another one. Not like there is a chance in hell that I'm pregnant, but you just can't expect them to go on that!

Rob and I were really irritable this morning, me from lack of sleep and he from too little. We waited in the children's room and let them play - along with half a dozen other small children, all of whom were the patients in their families. Rob and I kept sniping at each other about what and where they are allowed to play, and who was being too loud, and getting in the other parents' way, and blah blah blah. I was about fed up with it and glad when they called my name for checking vitals.

The nurse asked me if I did my bowel prep. I said, "Um, I thought that was for Wednesday's surgery...?" and she snapped, "Did you DO your BOWEL prep?" I snapped back, "I'm not HAVING a hysterectomy TODAY!" Well, apparently Dr. Bidus (hi again, doc) didn't tell anyone but me what was going down today, because everyone I've talked to had the h-ect pencilled in and knew nothing about the cold knife cone. (Doesn't that just sound grody? I think so, too.) So I was told to go back to the waiting room while she checked around to see what was going on. Greaaat. I was prepared to be very annoyed (too late, I already was) if things didn't go as scheduled this morning.

Meanwhile, Chloë had to be on her bus at 0750, so Rob took the kids home to ready her for that. Then he turned the little ones over to Satchi (nice Japanese neighbor lady, for those of you sleeping in the back) and came back while I was in the OR, but I didn't see him for about three hours.

When I was called back, the anesthesiologist came over and told me they were thinking of doing a spinal instead. Well, I instantly got upset and started crying about that, because I had a horrible experience with the spinal from my last c-section. The anesth. was a student doc who took six tries to get the needle into the right place in my back. The fifth time, he hit a nerve - making my hugely pregnant ass nearly jump off the table - and I've had damage in it ever since that causes severe, extremely painful spasms to go up my spine and sometimes surround my neck whenever I moderately (or more) exert myself.

It sucks, because sometimes I can't even walk, let alone do any kind of other exercise. I've always been chubby, but I used to really, really try and stay fit by doing yoga, pilates, rollerblading, swimming - and walking. Ever since I had Sophia, I can't do any of that, even the swimming, for more than a few minutes before my back totally seizes up and I can't move anymore. It's been a very upsetting three years.

So I cried. I have been doing so much embarrassing crying lately, and I'm sick of myself! I kept apologizing, saying I was tired, but they were cool and they understood. Everyone who came over thought I was nervous about the surgery, and I had to explain all over again about the spinal and the nerve damage, and I'd start tearing up again. Dr. Bidus came in and thought I was scared, but I totally wasn't! I just didn't want the dang spinal.

Finally, we agreed I would just be under heavy sedation (see, they were going to do general, but between my sleep apnea, GERD, not being able to open my mouth very far - thank you, TMJ - or put my head very far back, they didn't like that option. And the notes from my last general said they  had a really hard time putting my breathing tube in) with the understanding that if I weren't comfortable, they would have to intubate me while I was awake, and it would be unpleasant.

Let's see, small chance of that, versus risking more severe nerve damage. Hmm. I pick Door A.

Eventually, I was brought into the ER, moved onto the table, and.... that's all she wrote, as far as I'm concerned. I'm thinking I must have been intubated eventually because my neck is sore as anything, but I wasn't awake for it. Phew.

Next thing I knew, they were waking me up and moving me back to the gurney. I was strolled back to the APD and put in a chair to recover. I was totally fine, no pain, although I did feel violated! I told the nurse that, and she said, "What do you mean, do you think you were inappropriately exposed?" I said no and in a stage whisper, "I feel like I just had some extremely rough sex!" She laughed, Rob laughed, and I blushed.

I was ready to go home right away, but they force you to go pee and wait an hour before you can leave. I did that, had some apple juice, and still had to be wheeled out even though I was completely fine. I felt like, hey, save the demonstrative show for when I've had the Big Deal Surgery on Wednesday, and lemme go home for a nap!

So I'm fine. And I napped. Twice! And did a little scrapping. And now I'm gonna finish that bad boy right up.  Sayonara!

Fin.