Tuesday, August 25, 2009
It wasn't going as it should, so the doctor stopped.
He said it would be safer for me and he'd be more comfortable doing it in the hospital. He said he performs about a third of these there. If something goes wrong in the office, he's not as well-equipped to deal with it as he is in the hospital. Obviously he thought he would be able to do it in the office (even I can figure out that 2/3 of them are done there!) but didn't want to end up hurting me.
So, long story longer, I will have it done in the hospital next Thursday morning, September 3. I get to be knocked out this time, and will probably be home before Christian gets home from school.
At least I'll be asleep during the whole thing.
Monday, August 24, 2009
It's all very matter-of-fact.
Quite obnoxious, I assure you.
She is wearing Hannah Montana clothing from head to toe. Well, the hat and shoes aren't actually Hannah Montana. They're more Hannah Montana-esque. They're inspired by Hannah Montana.
But the shirt, skirt, vest, backpack, lunch bag, hand sanitizer and pencil erasers are Hannah Montana.
The boys are (thankfully!) still sleeping. As I quietly shut the garage door and tried to hang up my keys without making a sound, I heard a grumpy little voice say, "Mommeeeeeeeeeeee."
I stood there, holding my breath, not moving a muscle, praying my knees and/or ankles wouldn't pop. They usually do when I'm trying to be stealthy. It's why I didn't become an assassin.
I sneaked past their room. This time.
Hubs just left to go pick up
*****MEN, YOU MAY WANT TO STOP READING NOW. THERE MAY BE TALK OF UTERUSES (UTERI?) AND CERVIXES AND BABY-MAKERS AND SUCH*****
Tomorrow I'm having a procedure. Not to be confused with surgery.
My checkup after Chubs was born came back abnormal, so they did another delightful procedure (is the sarcasm coming through okay?), which resulted in a biopsy, which resulted in the positive identification of pre-cancerous cells.
So, back to the procedure. They'll be cutting out all those weird cells. Should be completely painless and quite enjoyable. Cough. Sputter. Cough. Unfortunately, since I'm nursing Gigantor, I can't take the Xanax my doc would normally prescribe a patient having this procedure.
So I think I'll just show up drunk.
After this, I get to go back every three months (Yay me!) to double-check that the pre-cancerous cells are gone and not coming back.
I think the next step is a cone biopsy (which will have to be done in a hospital under anesthesia) and then a hysterectomy. Since we're not completely sure we're completely done having babies, the doc doesn't want to do a hysterectomy.
So, if I were finished having babies, I'd be having a hysterectomy??? I don't really want to think about that. I also don't want to think about the fact that my aunt died of cervical cancer a few years ago.
So I won't.
Anyway, send big giant prayers this way tomorrow, would you please?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
It's for an OB/GYN in my OB/GYN's office; she's having twin boys and her nurse ordered the cake.
These were her (the nurse's) requests:
basketballs, baseballs, soccer balls, footballs
model the babies
dad likes golf; mom likes girly stuff; represent both of them
put the boys' names on it
She wasn't demanding at all, and I don't mean that sarcastically (I know; I'm surprised I'm capable of it, too). I asked her lots of questions before designing this cake, and all those requests came out during the Q&A.
So here it is:
Sorry about the outlets in the background. This cake is too big/heavy/delicate to move much. I didn't want to finagle a pretty background and risk breaking something. Every flat surface in my kitchen has been filled with drying sugar for the last three weeks...
So I'm glad to finally have some counter space again!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I was remembering a time when I decided to fight all the fat. I was going to stand up to it and tell it who was boss. I was going to tell that fat it was no longer welcome here.
So I joined a gym.
And I went.
And I weighed myself.
Or I tried to.
The regular scale that I knew how to work was broken, so I had to get on the cattle scale. Which really probably wasn't a cattle scale, since it was in a gym and all, but whatever. That's what it looked like.
There were a few older ladies and gentleman standing around the scale. The senior citizens water aerobics class had just ended, and they were all enjoying a few minutes of conversation before they hit the weights.
So I stepped up on that scale, trying desperately to hide the readout (which, of course, I couldn't even find) when one of the ladies said, "You have to put some weight on the other side to balance." She then proceeded to put the weights on for me. They looked like mini versions of the big, flat, circular weights that go on the long poles. Obviously I am a gym rat, but I digress.
So Helpful Lady put on what she thought was enough weight to balance the scales. Then, quite loudly, proclaimed to the world that, "OH! I didn't realize you were that heavy! I need to put a few more of these on here!"
Now that I was clearly in need of a good workout, and in a fat-fighting frame of mind, I headed to the treadmill.
AS IF, that was not bad enough, Helpful Lady walked around the gym, from friend to friend (I'm sure she informed perfect strangers as well, after all, she is Helpful Lady) telling everyone just how much weight she had to put on there. And, "Really! She's that heavy! She doesn't look that heavy to me! Does she look that heavy to you?"
Thanks, Helpful Lady.
Monday, August 10, 2009
If it helps, his baby book is current. That says something, right?
Anyway, the nurse weighed (snort!) and measured him, then took us back to her office to put the numbers in the computer. She paused for a second, then grabbed the baby and said (with a little edge to her voice) she'd be right back.
Hubs and I just looked at each other. We had no idea what was wrong.
She came back in a minute or two later, and handed him back to me. Then she rubbed her back a little, but that's neither here nor there.
Apparently, she thought she'd made a mistake when she'd measured him.
Are you ready for this?
Gigantor has gained five pounds (he's now at fifteen) and grown FIVE INCHES in three months!
He's in the 90th percentile for length, and about 78th for weight.
Since he weighed TEN POUNDS at birth (no c-section ,thankyouverramuch), he should weigh 20 at six months. He's right on track.
Incidentally, I don't think Cullen weighed 20 pounds at a year.
[NOTE: I AM FAT. I CAN IN NO WAY BE MISTAKEN FOR SOMEONE WHO IS NOT FAT. I AM USUALLY OKAY WITH ALL THE FAT, EXCEPT FOR WHEN I'M NOT. THEN I EAT A CARROT AND FEEL LIKE I'VE DONE MY BODY GOOD, AND GO BACK TO BEING OKAY WITH ALL THE FAT. I WOULD LIKE TO BLAME ALL THE FAT ON THE BABY, BUT THE TRUTH IS THAT MY POST-PREGNANCY FAT FROM CHRISTIAN IS STILL RESIDING ON MY BODY. PLEASE TAKE THAT INTO CONSIDERATION WHEN READING THE FOLLOWING.]
That night, we were watching the new Bachelor-esque show, "More to Love," which is just like the Bachelor, only for overweight people. The More to Love guy weighs over 300 pounds, and most of the women are over 200. Actually, I think the 200 pound girls were the skinny ones. One of the ladies was on the screen crying about how she was so happy to have finally found someone who didn't care about her weight.
Hubs looked over at me, and mockingly said, "I just don't know what to do! My future husband is only three months old!"
All I can think is: HELLO! GIGANTIC FAT WIFE SITTING ON THE COUCH NEXT TO YOU!
Clearly I am an enigma.
Or just fat.
Friday, August 7, 2009
So of course I ran in there.
He pulled back the baby's diaper... and his pee-pee was GONE! There was only a little hole where it used to be!
I FREAKED OUT!!! Seriously, my heart fell into my shoes. I yelled, "OH MY GOD! WHAT HAPPENED TO IT???"
He said, "I don't know! Have you ever seen it like this?"
Ummm, that would be a NO! He said it was the second time he had seen it like that.
I said, "WHERE IS IT???"
It looked almost like it had kind of fallen in on itself. He sort of pushed around on him, and it finally popped back out. I called my sister-in-law and asked her about it. Her third, Cayden, whom I nicknamed "Marshmallow" when he was little (cause he was a little on the pudgy side, too) had the same thing happen to him. So that night, I googled "inverted penis." Apparently, it's a phenomenon that happens to OVERWEIGHT BOYS! I about fell out of my chair, I was laughing so hard. Google it. I'm not making this up.
When we took Chubs in for his checkup last week, I told the doctor what happened. He laughed and said that the "fat pad" in the crotch area sometimes smooshes around and the pee-pee gets stuck in there, which is exactly what I learned on Google.
Hubs said if Chubs were a girl, he'd be the one sitting home alone on prom night.
Seriously, should we be allowed to even have children?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Last night, I was awakened at 12:30 in the morning. So I guess it wasn't really last night, but early this morning. Christian was standing over me, asking me to hurry and call the radio station because they were giving away tickets to the aquarium. Right then. I'm not making this up.
She's lucky she saw the sun today.
We were up late the night before. We went to my dad's house for a visit, and then stopped off at my brother and sister-in-law's house before leaving town. I had some maternity clothes to give her. We ended up staying there until 10:30... which means we got home just before 11:30. Hubs and my brother were duking it out on the Wii. Tennis, boxing, bowling... they did it all. I tried to do the tennis, but just couldn't get it. But believe you me, I'm going to practice all day while he's at work, and one of these days I'm going to spank him.
No, he'd probably like that too much. (Hi, Mom!)
We need another controller for our Wii. I bought one (a Wii; not an extra controller) recently. I think it was two weeks ago. I also got the Wii Fit. My opinion? I have enough problems in my life. I don't need my video game insulting me. As I was creating my Mii, Christian said, "Mommy! Why'd your tummy get so big?" Wow. What an ego booster.
We are, as a family, quite addicted to the ski jump and ski slalom games. They're a lot of fun. Except when you try your very best, beat your personal high score, and still your Mii hangs its head in shame. Just because I'm not where Wii thinks I should be, I get that??? Whatev. At least it didn't tell me to, and I quote, "GIVE UP!" (Hi, Hubs!) Apparently he's not cut out to be a Wii golfer.
I'm working on a cake right now. Well, not right now. Right now I'm typing this post. But I have been working on a cake. It's for another OB in my OB's office. She's pregnant with twin boys, and they've asked me to make a baby shower cake. It's a non-traditional shower, and I'm pretty excited about this one. Which is so completely different from usual, because I never get excited to make cakes. ;) It's a sport-themed shower, and the cake is going to be all primary colors; not one pastel, powdery blue to be found. But I think it will be cute.
There's a full moon tonight. I think Hubs and Christian are outside looking at it through a telescope. Cullen just went to bed; Chubs needs to eat one more time and then he'll be joining Cullen. (giant stage whisper: they've been sleeping in the same room for a while now! yippee!)
Now, of course, all hell will break loose tonight.
When will I learn?