I'm suddenly wiped, so bear with me as I give the daily run-down.
We'll start with last night. I decided I was ready to try and move back up to the boudoir to sleep, rather than continue our nightly slumber on the couch as we have been for months. I just decided I should give it a try, for us, for both our sakes. Rob moved the CPAP back upstairs for me, set me up with a bunch of pillows so I could sleep reclined instead of flat on my back (owie), and off we went.
I have to say, it was a wonderful night. In more ways than one. Wink, wink.
This morning, I didn't have to go far to wake up Chloë and Jack, which was nice, and it meant not waking up Sophia quite so early. (She slept all the way to 0800 instead of 0730, woot!) Off they went to school, and then she made me quite aware of her presence.
I couldn't get Sophia to eat anything but bananas today. If she ate five, I wouldn't be surprised. Every time I turned around, she was opening another one. The kid will have no potassium deficiency in this lifetime, that is for sure.
The morning passed slowly, because (A) I'm not used to being awake for it and (B) I'm not used to Sophia being awake for it, either. It made me realize I'm going to have to come up with a plan for passing the time productively. Maybe I'll take her to the park on warm, nice days; maybe we'll work on reading and writing; maybe we'll do some crafty things.
Today, she did the usual: a little dress-up, a little playing with her "pets," a little drawing. This is a picture of me, featuring my belly button. She loves to poke her finger down into the abyss that is my navel. Maybe by next year, she'll draw a stick figure to represent me?
And does she not have the cutest little pert chin? I love it so.
Sophie decided she was going to adorn herself to go to my doctor's appointment this afternoon. She wore multiple bracelets, and a necklace for a headband. I love her fashion sensibilities!
Finally, it was time to go up and have my shower. She wanted to bring a toy upstairs. Why, of course you may, my lovely child. I turned around, and she was wearing a backpack and lugging a bag in each hand, all stuffed full of whatever little trinkets she'd shopped around for in the living room. It was too amusing to turn her down, so up she went with her load.
No sooner did I get dressed and get downstairs, when Jack arrived home from school. He declared right away (no bothering with hellos) that he was hungry and wanted some lunch. Which was good, because I had to feed them and get out the door. All he wanted, though, was a piece of bread and butter. I had no time to argue. This paragraph has no real point. Moving on.
We left an hour early for my 40-minute drive up to Newport News. I like to be on time for things. I absolutely detest being late. It makes me insane in the membrane. So imagine my dismay when, a third of the way along the highway, traffic halted to a stop. Nobody moved. And my gas indicator crept toward "empty."
And I forgot my cell phone. Not only could I not call and let them know I would probably be late, but I couldn't call for help if I ran out of gas, I couldn't call Rob to help me, or Stephanie, or anyone. I was in a full-on panic, and all the kids wanted to do was ask me a bajillion questions about the cemetary out the window. I tried my best to remain calm as I overcame Jack's total disbelief that they actually BURY DEAD PEOPLE UNDER THE GROUND AND PUT STONES ON TOP?!!!, but eventually I got to the point where I demanded silence.
And then: ding! ding! ding! The "low fuel" indicator came on. We'd moved maybe a mile, and I was out of gas.
A car whizzed past me and took the next exit, so I realized I had to do the same thing if I had any hope of not going dead on the highway without a cell phone. I charged off the exit, and found myself approaching the Naval base where Rob works. Serendipity! Wouldn't it be funny if I actually ran into him? But no. I did find the gas station, and thanked God as I filled up. At least that disaster was averted.
By the time I wound around downtown Norfolk and found my way back to highway, it was the time I was supposed to be at the doctor. I was officially stressed. Traffic continued to move at a snail's pace, and I kept snapping at the kids to be quiet while I sipped my water and debated what to do. What could I do? I couldn't call, I couldn't go anywhere...
I Finally, traffic started moving, and I was on my way. I drove as fast as I could, but I was very, very late. A mile away from my exit, the enormous truck next to me started to swerve into my lane - right where I was - without a glance in my direction. I laid on the horn, but he kept coming. I swerved right, almost hitting another car, and then swerved back when the first truck corrected himself. I overcorrected and nearly flipped the van. We didn't quite spin, but we were definitely not in control for a second there. Finally, I looked up at the other driver, and he just stared blankly at me and shrugged. WTF?! I would have been mouthing "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" like crazy if I'd just pulled that stunt.
Adrenaline rushed through me, and I shook from head to toe. The children had screamed. They were okay, just scared, as was I. But I managed to keep driving, and we reached the exit.
Only, I took the wrong damn one! I was going East when I should have been going West. Nothing looked familiar, the numbers were going the wrong way... Finally, I turned around and headed back. And there we were, at last, 45 minutes late.
We rushed in, and the receptionist greeted me and asked me how I was. "Awful!" I blurted. "I'm sorry I'm so late, we left two hours ago, as soon my son got home from school, but I didn't know there was a lane closed on the highway, and then we almost ran out of gas, and then someone nearly killed us on the interstate, and then I took the wrong exit, and..." "Relax," she said. "Everyone's been late to their appointments today. You'll still be seen."
Phew. Phew, phew, phew.
I cheered up right then and there. Long story less long, we finally got in to see Dr. Clark, and it was a great visit. He was happy with the 21 lbs I've lost in the 15 days since surgery, and my incision looks great and is healing nicely. I'm cleared to move up to pureed foods, and I can do any exercise that doesn't hurt as long as I avoid heavy lifting. He answered all my questions about what and how and when to eat, and about my surgery. He's patient and kind, and I really like him. The children were literally jumping off the walls at that point, but he laughed it off and told me he has four kids of his own, so it didn't bother him. They asked him a jillion trillion questions about cutting me open and what's inside there, and then we were on our way.
So we did the usual, snack time, dressing for dance, and going to Ballet. I knit while she danced, and again the Littles argued over the blanket in the backseat, despite the fact that it was a balmy 73º out and the windows were open.
Rob was there when we came home, and we put the Nonnies down for late naps since they were so tired. They went right to sleep, so Rob and I watched the Redbox movie, My Best Friend's Girl while Chloë did her homework. It's not a movie you want to watch around children, that's for sure. When she came in and said she was finished, I sent her up to our room to read her book! It was filthy and foul, but I did laugh out loud in a few places. I'm generally not a fan of Dane Cook, though.
When it was over, Curly Sue and I went to return it and pick up a few more groceries. I need to make hummus for Bunco tomorrow night (hey, something I can eat, at least) and was out of garlic and lemons. Plus I had free coupons for pita chips (perfect for everyone else to eat with the hummus), Suave body wash, and French bread, so I picked those up, too. Chloë's at a fun age to take the store with me, and I enjoyed her company.
So that's about it. I think I'll be skipping the treadmill tonight and go to bed way early for me. I don't feel well and have been coughing all day, and I'm way low on getting my protein in for the day. I'm just going to call it a day and start again tomorrow.