Fluid Pudding : Page 82 of 122 : It's the old small talk!

Just filling you in over here…

Remember Henry? Yep. He’s still itchy. Yesterday morning I took him to a new vet where they did a few skin scrapes and found that his bacteria and yeast numbers are through the roof, even though he had a bath less than twelve hours before the appointment. He is now on another round of antibiotics, an antihistamine, and an antifungal. Luckily, this veterinarian firmly believes that he’s entirely too young for a food allergy, so I can once again give the pills in a tiny piece of hot dog. Do you have any idea how much my quality of life improves when I can give a dog a pill in a hot dog slice?

Speaking of The Improvement of My Life, let me tell you a story about an apple. Last year, a friend of mine told me how excited she was that SweeTango apples were back in season. I’ve never heard of anyone getting excited about an apple before, so I headed to the store and grabbed a few for myself. Immediately, my entire world was turned upside down. These are the most delicious apples I have ever tasted. EVER. They’re crisp. They’re sweet. They’re perfect. I must have eaten 25,000 SweeTango apples last fall, and the day I went to the store and found that they were no longer available, I was horrified. “What? What?! I have to wait until next FALL for ANOTHER?!”

I’ve been following the SweeTango page on Facebook. In other words, I’ve been keeping up with orchard news for the past few weeks. I even sent a quick note to them and found out that the apples would be delivered to St. Louis “during the week of September 12th.” On Monday, September 12th, I went to the store that carries the SweeTango apples. They weren’t there. I went back on Tuesday. Still not there. I went back on Wednesday and Thursday. No apples. Last night after Jeff left the house and the girls were in bed, a friend of mine posted a photo of a SweeTango that had just been taken off of the truck in St. Louis. I actually squealed. (And then I cried because I refuse to leave the house when I’m the only adult and the girls are in bed. I hate that I’m such a good mom like that…)

The girls boarded the bus this morning at approximately 8:17. At 8:18, I was in my car on the way to the store.

Oh, people. I spent $11.49 on seven apples, and I could not be happier.

I’ve already eaten four today. (Yes. I should probably slow down. Just remember: They’re APPLES. Not shots of booze. I’ll be okay.) ((Is it weird that I’m making a list of things I can sell to support my SweeTango habit?))

True Story: A few minutes ago, I called my doctor to see if she wanted to talk about a new medication I’m going to try. (Long story.) She doesn’t want to see me! She’s just going to give me some samples! Four apples a day kept my doctor away!

And another thing: Other than the SweeTango, this is my current favorite thing.

It’s a scarf made out of Berroco Link yarn. It’s knit on size 35 needles, which is like knitting with big bass drum mallets, and it comes together in less than an hour. The scarf I’m wearing in that photo was started at 1:00 this afternoon. I wove the ends in at 1:49. (I made this one last week.) Hint: If you’re going to buy the yarn, I recommend going to your local yarn store. If they can’t get it and you have to order it online, I highly recommend NobleKnits. The shipping is free, and the price is slightly better than most places. Merry Christmas to everyone. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Running, Working, Spinning, Fighting!

This morning I got up and ran at 5:30. Seriously. I did. I’m not even lying to you. AND, I’m the first to admit that This Is Not Me.

Let me tell you the reasons why I loved running at 5:30.

1. I had the track to myself for the first twenty minutes. SO, I was able to try new running styles without feeling all weird, and I was able to sing along with my running playlist. As much as I hate running, it felt sort of awesome to be traveling in circles while singing Heretic Pride.

2. I got a really great parking spot at the gym. Last week when I went on a Friday at 6:00 in the morning? I had to park thirty miles away from the front door. This morning at 5:30? I stepped out of my car and into the gym.

3. For a few moments, I was the youngest person working out. I’m very rarely the youngest person anywhere.

4. I was back home before the kids got up.

After Jeff left for work and the kids left for school, I grabbed my laptop to get some freelance work done at a coffee dump. I got my coffee (which I view as Rent when I’m about to hog a two seater table), opened up my computer, and found that the battery was dead. I had charged it all afternoon yesterday, so this whole dead thing stirred me up a bit. (Especially since I had just spent $4.11 on a 16 oz. coffee that I did not need.) I packed everything back up, went to the store for edamame, a salad, and some macaroni and cheese, came back home, and discovered that the outlet strip I had used yesterday was in need of resetting. As I bore you with these details, the laptop is charging and I’ll be heading out again in a few hours.

Meanwhile, since my original plan was wrenched, I decided to spin the remainder of my first bobbin of Amaranth. I’ve never spun anything with silk content before (honestly, I haven’t spun much of anything because I was operating under the false assumption that my wheel was broken. Whee! I know nothing! But I’m learning!), and I’m loving it. So shiny! My plan is to spin the remaining two ounces before the weekend, and then ply them together. AND, depending on the result, I’m envisioning a shiny pink cowl. Or fingerless mitts. Or a thick and thin beret? (I realize my single ply is highly uneven. I’m working really hard at drafting the amount required to produce thicker yarns. This bobbin reflects my very happy experiment.)

Tonight I’m hooking up with some friends from high school for Mexican food and fist fighting.

Back to your Tuesday, then. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The Stirring of the Stumps

So, it has been nearly two months since I told my doctor I was going to do a Couch to 5K program. School started, and I didn’t get off of the couch. I used my surgery as an excuse to stay on the couch a little longer. Then I got a cold. It’s difficult to run when you’re on the couch with a cold. (I’ve got the couch part down. Funny how I think about running only when it’s impossible for me to run. “Tra la la. I should be running, but it’s tricky when the anesthesia is wearing off, so here I lie. Fiddle dee dee!”)

My sister is a runner. When I told her that I was toying with the idea of running, she started calling to encourage me to put my shoes on.

Jen: So. How’s the running going?

Me: Well, I’ve got that surgery in two weeks and right now I need to shave these legs of mine and…

Jen: Ang. I think you’re okay to get started.

Me: I can’t hear you.

I set my start date for Tuesday. The day after Labor Day. My running day. Yes. Tuesday. And then I had to take Henry to the vet and get through some paperwork for school and figure out what I was going to wear for a meeting, and damnit. I finally reached the point where I was getting sick of my own excuses. SO, I watched this video again.

(It makes me cry Every Time I Watch It. I’ve watched My 120 Pound Journey about 25 times now, and I can barely think about it without my lip quivering. The most recent Shrek movie made me cry. Glee does it to me fairly often. Toy Story 3? I was a mess. I have no idea what’s happening over here.)

Yesterday morning I got out of the shower and put my “running” shorts on. I call them running shorts because they’re slippery. I then reached into my Drawer o’ Underpants and pulled out two sports bras. The first one was a nursing bra that was purchased to hold my lactaters back, and it always seemed to come unhooked at unfortunate times. (This is not an option at the track.) The second one? I purchased it during my sophomore year in college. Because I was really getting into the Jane Fonda workout. The year was 1990. My sports bra is 21 years old, and I am no longer the same shape that I was when I was 20, but I didn’t let that stop me. I wrestled myself into the thing and immediately felt an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. (I then said a little prayer that the bra would be the ONLY cause of tightness in my chest.)

Confession: When I think about running, I am terrified of two things: 1. That my heart will explode. 2. That I will pee myself.

I found my athletic shoes, loaded my running app onto the iPod, ate a banana while telling myself that the extra potassium will hug my heart and prevent it from exploding, and drove to the gym.

The first thing the app does is choose a tune from your iPod. Then it says something like, “Ding! Walk!” So, I walked. And as I walked, I watched the program count down to my first sixty seconds of Run. And when I had less than ten seconds to go before Run, I started freaking out. It’s happening. It’s happening.

Three.
Two.
One.
“Ding! Run!”

I took off running like someone was chasing me, and it didn’t take long before I realized that I didn’t really know how to handle running. Three other people (who knew what they were doing, as evidenced by their cute running clothes) were running, and if I would have kept up at my “Someone is CHASING ME HOLY CRAP!” pace, I would have lapped them repeatedly. I slowed down to a jog and immediately felt a lot less frantic. “Ding! Walk!” Yes.

Because I’m a huge fan of experimentation, every time I got the “Ding! Run!” I practiced a new style of running in order to figure out what was the most comfortable. Do I use my heels? Do I run on the balls of my feet? Do I kick my legs backward? I tried everything, and sadly, I never found a style that felt right. (I *do* know that the heel-to-toe method felt very wrong.) If anyone was watching me, I’m sure I provided great entertainment as I sweated and panted and snorted and hopped and repeatedly replaced the ear buds that kept falling out of my ears.

When I noticed that I had only one more run followed by a five minute cool down walk, I got really excited to hear if I would be congratulated when the workout was over. I ran a little faster. I walked with a bit more bounce. And then the vocal track went out on my iPod, and I immediately knew that I was having a stroke. I was sweaty, my right leg felt like it was about to separate itself from my torso, I was seeing a few spots before my eyes, and I could no longer hear Cee Lo Green. It’s all over.

And then it WAS all over. Week One, Day One. Completed.

Tomorrow is Week One, Day Two. And just typing that makes it seem like a plan. I just need to figure out HOW to run. (Do you use your heels? Do you kick your legs up? I would hate to think that I’m running the exact way that will surely lead to a heart explosion or a bladder failure…)

Don’t look at me. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Snorting and Stomping

Jeff came home early from work last Tuesday because he had a terrible cold. He’s not one to jump the gun on sick days, so it really surprised me when he stayed home on Wednesday, too. On Thursday, when I started feeling heaviness in my head, I was So Angry. Friday found me home alone with the animals, who were not happy to see me cocooned in my robe on the couch sneezing and coughing and drinking hot tea and yelling things like “Jeff! Why did you DO this to ME-HE-He-he?!”

Yes. This is all about me having a little cold. Intriguing! I really need to start planning some adventures. Know that I know that.

Side note: I hate taking cold medicine. I hate the hungover feeling that comes with it. I would rather not take anything and suffer through the symptoms than swallow a pill that makes me feel hazy. On Friday afternoon, I raided our medicine cabinet for cold medicine. I could NOT fight this without help. The cabinet was empty. (It’s actually pretty full—of nail polish and magnesium supplements and some weird gauze thing and pain pills that expired back in 1996.) I called Jeff and asked him to stop by Walgreens and get something for me.

Jeff: What do you need?

Me: EDDIEDING DAT WILL BAKE BE FEEL BEDDAH!!!

Thirty minutes later, he arrived with Pretzel M&M’s, a dark chocolate Milky Way, a Twix, and some sort of Three Musketeers wafer thing. (He knows me so well.)

Another side note: A friend of mine knew that I was feeling punky, and she delivered Delhi’s Chaat (#30 on the menu) to me earlier in the day. I am terribly lucky to have people who get my need for chocolate and Indian food.

I spent most of Saturday in my bed and on the couch. I found that it helped a bit to stand up and scream, “I’m MISERABLE!” for anyone who might be interested. (Not many were interested.) I have no idea where Sunday went. I honestly have no memory of Sunday. I turned a corner yesterday morning, and celebrated by juicing carrots, a beet, and some ginger. It was terrible. I then juiced an apple and mixed it in, which took it from a level of Terrible 8 to Terrible 3. Drinkable. (I’m really trying to not be afraid of my juicer.)

Today is Tuesday. I have an itchy dog, and it appears that my cold is 89% gone.

(Thanks for all of the itchy dog suggestions, by the way. He has now been on the prescription food and the flea pills for four days, and he’s scratching more than ever. Although his follow-up appointment isn’t until Thursday, I’m going to try to get him in this morning.)

((Also, Scout got her first all-over groom on Saturday morning. She’s now clean, fluffy, and proud.))

(((Oh! I met with the principal last week about Regina and The Sex Girls (I know. Awesome band name.), and without missing a beat, he came up with a perfect solution. All is well.))) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Mr. Itchy McScruffy

When we got Henry (nearly three weeks ago!), he was on post-neuter antibiotics, and he was itchy. At his post-surgery vet appointment, the veterinarian determined that he had some sort of skin infection. We switched him to an antibiotic that was more skin-specific, and we tried some medicated baths. The itchiness actually got worse after the baths, so we dropped the medicated soap and went with oatmeal baths and perfume-free (and alcohol-free) baby wipes. The itchiness got a bit better, but became worse again when the antibiotics ran out. We started him on a very low-dose steroid. The itchiness got a bit better, but became worse again when we started weaning him. (He has tested negative for mites.)

We are now going to see if he could be allergic to his food (Blue Buffalo Puppy Food). Starting this afternoon, we’ll be giving him a prescription food along with Capstar to see if it’s a flea allergy. If that doesn’t help, I may have to take all four of my pets to the vet every two weeks for three shot-in-the-dark mite treatments. (We’re all hoping it doesn’t come down to that, as I don’t have enough Xanax for a four pet injection adventure.)

I know most of you are bored with this information, but I wanted to throw it out there just in case we’re missing something obvious. (He’s current on his heartworm preventative. He’s current on all of his vaccinations. He’s cute as a bug’s ear, and he lets me hold him in my lap like a baby.)

PLUS, his feet look like this!

This is the place for yarn and good news.

Thanks to each and every one of you for your words of advice and/or encouragement yesterday. Last night Meredith took me aside and said, “You know how the TSG club stood for The Shady Girls? Today Regina decided to change the S. The club is now The Sex Girls.” Jeff and I agreed that a line had been crossed. I’m meeting with the principal tomorrow morning to have the most awkward conversation I hope to EVER have with an elementary school principal. Thank God he’s nice. And sane. And doesn’t seem like one who would support a third grade club for sex girls. (Tonight, as I wander in the Land of Nod, Fluid Pudding will receive 35,493 hits from people who were definitely not looking for photos of yarn. However, buckle up. I’m about to tell you about last week’s trip to Illinois.)

On Friday morning, my mom and I picked Tempe up at 5:00 and the three of us made our annual trip to Schaumburg, Illinois for Stitches Midwest. This was our fifth year, and it did not disappoint. When we first attended Stitches back in 2007, I came back with nothing but sock yarn.

In 2008, I purchased the supplies to make this sweater:

In 2009, I fell in love with this sweater:

Yeah. It’s not really finished, is it? I’m hoping to change that sometime in 2012.

Last year we decided to skip Stitches and go to Memphis. Graceland was very good. The yarn stores? Not so much.

This year, my only plan was to get some fiber. And I did.

This Jimmy Durante lookalike is actually a pound of BFL/Tussah Silk fiber. It’s the first purchase I made at Stitches, and if all goes according to plan, it will eventually be spun and knit into a sweater. After I achieve this goal, I will surely feel invincible.

All of these were purchased from Lisa Souza, who is sort of a rock star. She was one of the nicest and most interesting people we met at Stitches, which is definitely a thing because I now want to devote a shelf in our office to Lisa Souza fiber.

When we went back to the market to kill a bit of time before the drive home on Saturday, I accidentally bought two sweater kits.

This one will be my everyday cardigan (brown! with pockets!) for this winter.

This one will be my snazzified artsy meets swanky sweater.

This is the stuff that happens at Stitches, and this is why I love going there. Sadly, only 17% of you really understand how jazzed I am right now about my loot.

May I say something that just might jazz an additional 38% of you?

Do you remember Aaron’s bike? I am pleased to report that the money is in. The bike has been ordered. Aaron will have his bike, and I couldn’t be more excited. Thanks once again for your support! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Meredith wore a green skirt today. Because green is not allowed.

Last week Meredith and I started a Mom & Me journal, and it’s turning out to be the greatest thing we’ve ever done. Because it’s a secret from the rest of our family, we decided that our code word is Pancakes. When she is finished writing in the journal, she places it under my pillow and somehow works Pancakes into our conversation. When I’m done writing on my side, I place the journal under her pillow and do the same. My hope is that this will serve as a vehicle for conversations that might be too difficult to have in person, as well as ease the embarrassment of the tricky conversations that we need to have face to face. Obviously, I’m not going to share what we’ve written so far. All I’ll say is this: It’s Very Good.

On a related note, a monumental change has taken place in my parenting philosophy. (Read that sentence again while picturing this version of me. It’s much less wearisome that way, no?) I have always encouraged my girls to be friends with everyone. “It’s good to have some close friends, but it’s also good to be friendly! That’s how you learn about other kids! You don’t have to play with the same group every day. Shake it up! It helps you learn who you are!”

No more. NO MORE! Meredith is “friends” with a girl in her class whose main purpose seems to be making other girls feel badly about themselves. This girl (shall we call her Regina George?) repeatedly tells Meredith that she doesn’t like Meredith’s clothes. Yesterday Regina George made fun of Meredith’s clothes until Meredith reached the level of anxiety where she couldn’t wait to come home and change OUT of those clothes. Regina George has started a club called The Shady Girls, where she requires the girls to wear certain colors and devote their recess to playing tether ball. (I know. I don’t know.)

I asked Meredith if she knows what Shady means.

Meredith: Like when it’s sunny outside, and you make the choice to hang out under a tree?

Me: Metaphorically, yes. But I have a funny feeling The Shady Girls don’t prefer to actually hang out in the shade. It’s about maybe being a little dishonest. Maybe being a little mean. It’s not necessarily a good thing.

Meredith: Regina George is mean.

According to Meredith, if Regina George gets angry during class, she has been known to yell, throw things, and curl up into a ball.

Okay. Let me say that again. According to Meredith, if Regina George gets angry during class, she has been known to yell, throw things, and curl up into a ball. To me, this means Regina George has some issues, and probably really NEEDS a friend, right? If the girl has to create clubs to have other girls hang out with her, she has some stuff going on, right? Right? Because of that, it hurts my heart (figuratively!) to ask Meredith to leave The Shady Girls, but that’s exactly what I did. Meredith has had a terrible relationship with this girl for over three years. Meredith has come home crying more than once because of things this girl has said to her. The last thing Meredith needs is to feel badly about herself at age eight. (At age six? The girl broke Meredith’s glasses. Oh my goodness, people!)

I’m a bit conflicted, because as I mentioned earlier, I’ve always encouraged the girls to try and be friends with EVERYONE. BUT, at this stage, I would be much happier seeing Meredith make a connection with some girls who exhibit kindness and curiosity and intelligence, perhaps with a love of American Girl stuff and Big Time Rush sprinkled in. (I’m not saying that the girl in question is lacking in those areas. I’m just saying that Meredith has been fairly miserable striving to “turn things around” with Regina.)

I’m trying to remember what it was like for me in the third grade. It was the year that Mrs. Barker read “Island of the Blue Dolphins” to our class. I don’t recall anyone being mean. Then again, that was many many years ago (over thirty years ago! Holy crap!) — before hormones in milk and rude kids on television. And padded bras in kid clothing stores. And raunchy magazines in every checkout lane at the grocery store. Oh, internet. This is a tough one. Have any of you dealt with this? By encouraging Meredith to gently leave the group, am I encouraging her to turn her back on someone who probably needs some help? Then again, Meredith has been reaching out for three years, and it’s totally killing her joy.

Please know that I have never said anything bad about Regina George in front of Meredith. The closest I came was this morning when I said, “Meredith, sometimes people who are unhappy actually feel a bit happier when they make other people feel unhappy, too.”

Today I shall get a haircut. This has nothing to do with anything. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

My Back-to-School Supplies have arrived!

The following post is part of the DailyBuzz Moms Tastemaker program in partnership with Clorox.

Every year when August rolls around, I feel the excitement that most people feel at the end of December. To me, a new school year means a New Beginning. As I pack the kids’ backpacks with their school supplies, I start making mental lists of all of the things I’m going to do differently this year.

The list always includes the following items:
1. Eat healthier
2. Clean the house
3. Figure out my hair

The list also tends to include things like:
1. Figure out quinoa once and for all!!!
2. Start taking vitamins. (Bottle already in cabinet. Check expiration date.)
3. Calcium supplements?!

This year I’m pleased to report that with the help of DailyBuzz Moms and Clorox®, I was able to hit the ground running with my goals of eating healthy and cleaning the house! A few days back, I received the following items in the mail:

What you see here probably looks familiar. We have Clorox® Disinfecting Wipes, Glad® To Go Lunch containers, and a Brita® Bottle Water Filtration System.

The Clorox® wipes have become a staple in our house, as well as in the girls’ school. (Every year without fail, Clorox® wipes are included on the classroom supply list.) I use them to wipe off the counter tops, the inside of the sink, and the top of the toilet. (I would wash my face with them if I could. As you know, they smell great.)

We’ve been using (and reusing) Glad® containers forever, but I had no idea that the To Go Lunch containers existed! They’re smart, because they have a 1.5 oz. cup that snaps into the lid.

That cup can hold salad dressing, hummus, olive oil, or even chocolate syrup! The possibilities are endless, really. (I like to stuff my cup with mixed nuts, as I tend to crave protein after I eat a big bowl of fruit!)

The final item in the package is my new favorite thing. If you know me at all, you know that I’m constantly carrying around a container of water. I’m not a big fan of plastic water bottles, but I *am* a big fan of Good Water. Because our tap water is drinkable, I tend to fill one of our many dishwasher-safe reusable cups every time I leave the house, and I’ll spend most of the day drinking from it. Admittedly, the water tends to taste a bit stale by the end of the day, which is a bummer, but worse things could happen, right? Anyway, when I opened up the Brita® Bottle Water Filtration System, I immediately knew I was going to put it to the test to see if it keeps the End of the Day Stale Water Thing (EotDSWT) under control.

This morning I cleaned out the bottle, filled it up with water from our tap, and when I took a drink I noticed that the water was tasting better than our tap water. The Brita® filter? It works. Best of all, a few hours later I took a drink and there was zero hint of Stale. Success. I love this water bottle. (The only thing I don’t love is that it has a spout on the top. I need to learn how to drink from a spout without spilling all over myself. I’ve heard that practice makes perfect.)

I’m beyond thrilled with the items from DailyBuzz Moms and The Clorox Company. (I still need help with the hair/quinoa/vitamin thing, but those things can wait as I pack my healthy snack on my clean counter tops!) By the way, because I know you guys are brilliant, I would love to hear what kind of things you would put in the 1.5 oz. cup that comes with the Glad® To Go Lunch containers! Let’s brainstorm! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Wait. Was there an earthquake today? Fiddle dee dee! Puppies!

So, it looks like Jeff’s workplace is putting out a pet calendar, and the person who scores the cover image gets something like a million dollars or a free pancake dinner or something in between. I’ve decided that we don’t necessarily need the cover, but we do need a spot within.

Will you help me decide which photo to submit? It looks like each person is allowed only one entry. Oh my word, I’m living in a pressure cooker over here! Life can be so tricky sometimes, no?

Photo #1: Scout in the Pool (This would make a great July shot, don’t you think?!)

Photo #2: Scout’s Big Puppy Feet (Why do we still have the pink carpet?! WHY?!?!?!)

Photo #3: Father’s Day! (This is good, because we’re also advertising one of the company’s books!)

Photo #4: Scout in Motion!

Photo #5: Scout’s First Day as a Pudding!

Photo #6: I can’t leave Henry out of the mix, but this is my only decent shot of him, and he’s showing his boy part…

Photo #7: Luna with Laptop on her back. (Rest in peace, Luna.)

Photo #8: Sidney and Ramona Quimby

Honestly, I’m leaning toward #4 or #5, but I would love to get your input. Because, really. What else do you have going on over there? (I know! Have I thanked you lately for putting up with me?!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Everybody’s talking ’bout mediations, United Nations, congratulations on my tubal ligation…

Despite some fairly minor glitches, the tying of the tubes was a success!

Glitch #1: Everyone I talked to at the hospital seemed a bit worried to hear that I was on a solo mission. Jeff dropped me off at 6:00, and planned on being back by 8:15. The surgery was scheduled for 8:00, and normally takes about 45 minutes to complete. In the pre-op prep area, I was surrounded by people headed off to Major surgery, and they were surrounded by family and friends. I brought my knitting. Minds were boggled.

Glitch #2: I was handed a plastic cup and a vial. I was told to pee in the cup and pour it into the vial. The vial did not have a flat bottom, so the entire process became an exercise in problem solving. If I pour the pee into the vial before I wash my hands, I’ll have to continue to hold the vial, making hand washing impossible, which is unacceptable. If I wash my hands and THEN pour the pee into the vial, I’ll probably want to wash my hands again. I refuse to turn my face toward the sky with the vial in my mouth. Wait. What would MacGyver do? I peed into the cup, washed my hands, poured the pee into the vial, CAREFULLY tucked the vial behind the elastic band of my underpants, washed my hands again, grabbed the vial with my towel, and journeyed back to the nursing station feeling very proud of myself.

Nurse: Oh! Where’s the lid for the vial?

Me: There was no lid.

Nurse: Are you sure there wasn’t a lid?

Me: Believe me. There was no lid.

Glitch #3: The computer crashed twice as the nurse tried to enter my information.

Me: Do you think this means I really AM supposed to have another baby?

Nurse: What?

Me: Nothing.

Glitch #4: My surgeon ran into traffic and the nurses were freaking out on the fact that it was surgery time! But no surgeon! When she did show up, she was wearing a really amazing skirt that she scored for three dollars at Macy’s. (I love my doctor.)

Glitch #5: Endometriosis. Who knew? Apparently, it was a mild case, and my doctor was able to remove it. (Did you know that endometriosis may cause headaches? I’m feeling sort of optimistic about the endometriosis/headache connection!)

Hey, look! It’s me! Drunk on narcotics/anesthesia, yet still wanting you to give peace a chance!

Glitch #6: I was unable to see straight for about 48 hours after the surgery. I believe I can blame the anti-nausea patch the anesthesiologist placed behind my ear. That little patch was pretty incredible. The Not Being Able to See thing was NOT so incredible, as it made knitting/reading/watching television impossible.

Jeff and the girls let me spend most of the weekend in bed.

My parents delivered a huge box of peaches.

Henry and Scout became friends.

And today, because I’m still not feeling up for driving, I’m knitting a pumpkin hat for an autumnal baby.

All is well. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>