And STAY Out!

Today was just one of those days... Well, to be honest, YESTERDAY was one of those days, so today sort-of felt like a hangover (if I even remember what a hangover feels like). I was completely uninspired in the parenting department today. Left to my own devices, I probably would have flopped around between my bed, the couch and the bathtub.

Since I was not left to my own devices, I asked Lily Ruth what she wanted to do. She wanted breakfast tacos. Specifically, breakfast tacos brought home by daddy. Well, it's not Saturday, so we decided to take breakfast tacos to daddy instead! That was great until I got cranky.

Our next stop was the park with our friends! That was great until I got cranky - and hot.

Next, Starbucks with even more friends. Great until Lily Ruth got cranky. Hey - at least it wasn't me!

When we pulled into our driveway I was having the kind of energy-sapped moment that made me feel as though taking off my seatbelt was an impossible task. So I left my purse, my drink and all of the assorted shoes, socks, legwarmers and other detritus of the day in the car and hoisted my sweaty, whiny, shoeless angel onto my shoulder.

As we crossed the threshold into our home, a small lizard darted across the tile. Not wanting to find a sad, desiccated lizard corpse in a few days, I immediately turned my focus to catching then freeing said lizard. Within seconds, we were all in on it. Well, I was hunting lizards, Keely wandered out the open front door, and Lily Ruth raced after her yelling 'Keely, get back in here you bad dog! Get back in this house you bad dog!' Keely really is a good dog, so in a matter of 10 seconds or less, she sauntered back through the door with Lily Ruth hot on her heels. They managed to foil a perfectly timed scoop-and-grab maneuver, and the little lizard darted in the opposite direction. I spun around and peered  behind the cedar chest. Not only was Little Lizard there, but he was in the company of Big Lizard. To be fair, Big Lizard was (hopefully is) only big in comparison to Little Lizard, but they were the only two around for reference, so there you have it.

I spent the next few minutes engaged in cartoon-esque behavior. Completely ineffectual chasing and shoo-ing foiled at every turn by lithe, graceful lizard ballet. In an attempt to gain an upper hand, I opened a rarely used connecting door into the guest room. My hope was that I could use some sort of surprise ninja attack that they would never see coming since they were unfamiliar with the floorplan of the house. In actuality, I managed to chase Big Lizard into a previously unknown-of giant gaping crack under the guest room window, and scare Little Lizard into a petrified, heavy-breathing panic under the cedar chest.

I gave up for the moment and wandered out to the car... only to find that I had left the rear door open. Swift. I gathered all of our belongings, and berated myself back inside.

After fortifying myself with the dregs of my Passion Tea Lemonade (I'm sure that requires capital letters and some sort of TM or C), I peered once again into the entry way. Little Lizard had moved himself behind the chest. I grabbed a junk mail post card and blocked his escape route. After that, I scooped him up in seconds. He froze in a very macho lizard pose - mouth open, eyes averted, fledgling red mating pouch partially inflated. I gently deposited him outside, and he scurried away. He didn't so much as glance back in gratitude.

I took a deep breath - well, um, if we're being fair, most of my breathing feels pretty dramatic what with the increased blood volume, bloating and growing of new organs... but I digress -  and turned to look for Big Lizard. Luckily for me (and probably for him - I was about to give up), he was staring longingly out of the guest room window. I scooped him up very quickly and headed toward the door. He also tried the macho route, and added in an attempt to bite me. Now, I dubbed him 'Big Lizard', but he was still tiny. We're talking four inches tops from nose to tail tip. Also, green garden lizards do not have teeth. Just flat, white cartilaginous gums. So when I say that he tried to bite me, what I mean is, he opened his mouth, managed to get it 1/3 of the way around my index finger, and closed his jaws. If I hadn't been staring straight at him, there is a pretty good chance that I wouldn't have even registered a change in pressure on my skin. Since I was staring straight at him, I said 'OUCH!' and even became annoyed with him for 'biting' me.

I continued to think cranky thoughts about Big Lizard as I walked out and set him free in approximately the same place where I left Little Lizard (and yes, I gave it conscious thought. What if they are friends or even family members? Community is important, people!). As I set him down, It struck me how ridiculous this was. My ingrained response to being 'bitten' was so strong that I was irritated with a teensy lizard for being terrified of the giant who chased him around then held him high in the air.

I decided instead to be proud of both of them. They both took me on with courage and panache. Well fought, lizards. Well fought.

Because my life is so rich, full and fascinating, I decided to post about my lizard bite on facebook. One friend commented that her gecko had quite a nasty bite despite his toothless status. In an effort to clarify the complete inanity of my situation, I commented that the bite was akin to 'being gummed by a sock puppet'. In retrospect, I am delighted with myself. That may become my new catch phrase. I adore it. So completely ridiculous. So whimsically fun! My afternoon agitation has given me something fun - for once.

Come back here, lizards! I'ma kiss you on the lips! O.k., fine - I'ma kiss you on the cartilaginous gums!

In Which I Update...Yet Again...

One thing that I have dicovered about being an almost 40, pregnant, gallbladder-trouble-having mother to a three-year-old is that I have very little time left to blog. *sigh* I have a lot to say, just no time or energy with which to tell you about it.

'Let me explain - no, it will take to much time - let me sum up' (Sorry, gratuitous "Princess Bride" quoting is sometimes unavoidable):

I met with a surgeon last week. He made me feel very comfortable and confident in his abilities, but (and?) he is highly doubtful that I will make it through my pregnancy without requiring surgery. The other catch / caveat is that the surgery is really only 'safe' (safe-er, safe-est... ugh.) in the second trimester of pregnancy. This means that I will more than likely undergo surgery to remove my gallbladder before the end of the year. I feel very calm about the diagnosis; which is surprising given the level of terror I was experiencing before meeting the doctor. I felt like surgery was the worst possible option, and I was committed to doing whatever I needed to in order to avoid it. After meeting with him, explaining my current daily situation and showing him the sonogram images of my gallbladder, he looked me in the eye and calmly explained that I REALLY don't want to enter my third trimester with a deteriorating condition that would then put an additional stress on my pregnancy. I suddenly felt very calm and certain about trusting him with the health of my baby and myself. He also (very reassuringly) told me that he has not once had a patient experience a miscarriage as a result of this surgery. He was clear that he was not promising a perfect outcome or attempting to downplay the possible risks, rather he was letting me know his personal experience with pregnancy and this particular procedure.

I wish that my disk drive was working properly. Since it's not, I can't put any of them here, but ya'll, the images of my gallbladder with a 3cm stone (approx. 1/3 the size of the entire gallbladder) are pretty dang cool. Well, you might not find them as awesome as I do, but I am an anatomy nerd, and I adore stuff like this.

Oh, and I'm now taking a smooth muscle relaxant to keep my gallbladder from contracting quite so forecefully. I'm supposed to / allowed to take it 3-4 times a day - with each meal and before bed. I'm only taking it twice a day, and it really has helped with the pain, but I feel seriously doped up, nauseated and sleepy most of the time :-/ I almost miss feeling clear-headed but pained. Which is the lesser of two evils?

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In order to retain my (self conferred) Awesome Mom status, I have been Pinterest-ing my heart out. Lily Ruth and I have made play dough with Jell-o and glitter:

gack / slime / goop:

dreamcatchers, necklaces for friends and dogs, and from-scratch sugar cookies with glace icing. I don't have pictures of most of it, because I am not quite as awesome as I used to be :-P but MAN are we having fun! Links to all of the things I've mentioned are on my Pinterest boards - I'm 'lilyruthsmama' if you're looking for me.

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You guys, until the addition of this new muscle relaxant a week ago, food had become my enemy. Everything I ate caused pain, and foods with even the smallest amount of fat in them caused even more pain. It was an internal battle every meal time just to prepare food for my family. Eating required a separate act of sheer will and resignation to the fact that pain would follow. The new pill really has helped. I should stop complaining about it.

Luckily for me (and my family), I have that small Pinterest addiction, and the folks that I 'follow' are forever pinning good recipes. The past few weeks have found me turning to my pins at 4:00 each day in a last-ditch effort to stir up some internal incentive. I have FINALLY made recipes off of my food board! I am pleased as punch to report that all of them have been wonderful :-)

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Lily Ruth has decided to be Peter Pan for Halloween! I am triple excited: 1) This is a costume that I can make by myself - no wacky pouffed sleeves, zippers or tulle. 2) I dressed as Peter Pan at the themed restaurant where I worked when I met Lily Ruth's Daddy, so it's an unintentional (on her part) homage to that time of my life. 3) It's a comfortable, fun costume that she can run around in for an entire night (or more) without worrying about smeared face paint or lost accessories. All of the fabric has been purchased. All of the relevant tutorials and PDF files have been perused and downloaded. My patterns have been drawn, measured and re-measured...

but I am strangely resistant to beginning the actual process... What's up with THAT?

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Ooof. I am suddenly left with the vague ennui, and I have lost interest in my own whining. Let me leave you instead with a link to one of my favorite wickedly funny bloggers - David Thorne:

27b/6 - Employee Self Evaluation Form

Enjoy, Sweets! TTFN...