So many adventures. So few times.

My photo
My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Wednesday Tales

These are the things I need to do today:
1. Contact the beautiful woman who is going to be babysitting my children this weekend.
2. Break down the 8 million Amazon boxes in my kitchen and sewing room.
3. Call my mama
4. Figure out dinner. I'm thinking something in the slow cooker.
5. Actually start the dishwasher since the slow cooker bowl and lid is in there
6. Laundry
7. Laundry
8. Ice my knee
9. Laundry
10. Clean the upstairs bathrooms

What have I actually accomplished today?
1. I watched a marathon of Handy Manny. Also note that Tommy left the room a long time ago. 


Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Attack of the zombie knee, day 5

These may not look like much to you, but this is a huge effing deal to me. I have so much more flexibility this time around postop than I did last year during cannibal knee. I feel stronger, I feel braver to push myself, and in complete honesty I feel a little stupid. Mainly because I know if I push myself too hard going to end up with a knee three times more swollen than the than the average bear and I keep pushing myself anyway.

But whatever, I have to get to 90° bend by a week from Thursday, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get there. I'm almost there now already! As far as straightening  my knee it's almost there. Or at least as straight as I could ever get after cannibal knee. (As a refresher, cannibal knee = last year's ACL replacement using my own tendon. Zombie knee = last week's replacement using a dead person's body part.)

That's kind of it. I really don't have much to say. My days revolve around keeping Tommy just entertained enough that I can ice my knee in peace while borderline tripping on Percocet. Far too much online shopping, far too much day dreaming and zero accomplishments to date. Aside from helping my girl Heather with her LulaRoe business I haven't done crap in days. In about a week and a half? I'm going to have ALL the laundry.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Zombie knee VS. Cannibal knee (Day 4)

I decided to undo all of my ace bandages  today so that I can let my leg kind of air out. With all of the swelling the bandages were really cutting into my leg which adds a super sexy factor to the freak show that is my knee. So anywho, I got everything unwrapped and I'm looking at it and it really isn't all that bad. In fact I kind of feel like the zombie knee isn't even nearly is horrific as the previous surgery knee. I guess we'll call that cannibal knee? You know, because they used my own tendon to replace my ACL? OK yes. So cannibal knee was far more horrific and blood and guts and murder scene than zombie knee.

If you look closely, the line in the middle of zombie knee is the main scar from cannibal knee.
Emma comes upstairs a few moments ago to see zombie knee.  She's really investigating it, but from a distance. Then she announces, "You need to go ahead and put that away now. Dr. Lyon will be super mad at you for showing me. You'll have to live at the hospital." She then literally backs out of the room with a green face and runs down the stairs! Apparently my tough five year old isn't so tough when it comes to her momma being cut open. Wimp. 

By the way, I did poop last night. You're welcome. I know everyone was waiting with bated breath.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Recovery day 3: The Zombie Strikes Back

So it's Saturday, post op day three. My in-laws took the kids for couple hours today which was pretty much the biggest blessing I've ever experienced. Brett was just about two minutes away from choking them. You know, envision Homer and Bart Simpson with the eyeballs popping out, etc.  Me thinks dude isn't cut out to be a stay-at-home dad.

Today has actually been kind of rough. I was doing good, and then I got really groggy without even taking any medicine. I rested for a while, I woke up and went
outside for a few minutes. Not too long after I got back in the room my stomach started burning. A few minutes after  I was vomiting. Super sexy, I know. No fever, no other symptoms other than slight lightheadedness and a burning stomach. I guess I might as well just lay around then. (Which is hilarious because WTF else would I do right now?!) Note that zombie knee itself isn't all that bad. My foot looks very Fred Flinstone-esque, but my is golden.

Boredom is making me shop online. I have bought more shit in the last 24 hours then I think I have in the last six months. The worst part? I still don't have a damn thing for Brett's birthday which is the 24th. If anyone has any grand ideas pretty please forward them to me ASAP. Chances are he already has whatever you pick out or he really doesn't want it. Hence my frustration.  Dude is kind of a jerk sometimes. But bless his heart, he's my jerk.

Oh! I got a shower today! Or, well really, it was a sitting in a lawnchair spray down. Can't get the incision wet. Pffffft! At least I smell slightly less disgusting in my hair is a slightly less greasy mop. Score! 

For those of you keeping score at home, I still haven't pooped. You are welcome. 😘😘😘

Friday, September 16, 2016

Recovery Day one of the zombie knee

This won't be long because it's almost 2 am and, well, it's really damned boring. I woke up post-op today to find out my ACL was jacked up (AKA 'worst case scenario') so I had to have the full ACL replacement by way of donor or cadaver or allograft or whatever you want to call it, with the meniscus trimming nonsense. Henceforth my left knee will now be referred to as my zombie knee. 

Got home, PTFO, actually ate which is kind of huge because last time I didn't eat for days. Around 7 Brett comes rushing upstairs to announce Emma has a fever and needs to come home. She's my resident bad ass so when she gets sick? It's heartbreaking. A few minutes ago she came in for her nightly bed hogging and gut kicking (some people would call this snuggles. I call those people mistaken assholes). For the sake of zombie knee I crutched it to her God-awful bed. And here we are! 

Retainer selfie in the dress I've had in all day! CHEEEESE! 

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

The things they don't tell you before surgery

You know what they don't tell you about knee surgery (or any other kind of surgery)? Have you ever taken prescription opiates? You cannot poop when you take opiates. It's one of those things I wish they had told me last time. It would've saved me a lot of trouble. And now I hear the stories about people who are prescribed medications to help them poop. That's bullshit! I would like to poop! And I don't mean the nervous poops I always get prior to surgery or any kind of stressful event. Why can't I get some magical prescription for pooping?! Take your fiber, take a Senna pill, it'll be great! That's at least what my lovely nurse told me this time around. Yeah... I would've liked to have known that last time as well. Disclaimer: I could not poop. It was horrid/hilarious/horrid.

On a similar note, I don't want to be a professional pill popper. I was scared to high hell I was going to wake up one day legit addicted to Oxy so I barely took them when I needed them. I'm sure that helped all of nothing.

Something else that people don't tell you about surgery on your knee is that you can't get your ass up the stairs. I literally butt-scooted up my beautiful stairwell. That's after being under anesthesia obviously so I'm sure I looked like a drunk dog trying to get shit off of her butt. You know, while going upstairs.

Weight gain. Effing weight gain. They're literally cutting a piece of my body and taking it away from me but I swell 10 pounds worth of water. Okay, but then I can't eat for several days which equates to a loss of, say, 5 pounds. Now I'm averaging a gain of about 5 over the course of the week, right?
Wrong. Because the second I can start eating, I binge like it's shark week and ultimately gain another 5 pounds, putting me 10 lbs ahead of my starting point. So that's cute.

And the gawkers! Holy shit, the gawkers. We went on a date one week post op. I had a full leg brace which apparently then meant I was somewhere between being a smelly person or having some absurd deformity. Brett obviously said that it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought and I was beautiful and no one was looking at me (bla bla bla), but people were giving me this huge birth like I was pregnant with spiders. Nope, just in the brace. Carry on, fools.
Oh! And I drive an SUV. It's pretty nice. But getting that leg brace inside SUV? I have to put my seat all the way back, swing my leg in, push the seat all the way forward, I adjust about 40 times to get the right distance from my foot and the brake pedal.

Kids become hellacious hell beasts from hell the minute you are cut open. Don't pre-clean your home. It is futile. 

I learned something new about myself post op too! Apparently anesthesia makes me vomit like I'm being exorcised. Straight up Omen Damien shit.  It was really cute how they gave me a little packet to sniff, like that was going to make me feel all better. Actually it did work. That kind of pisses me off too. Really?! I can convince my brain not to purge all of the nonexistent food in my stomach by just smelling something? Why can't I also just sniff something to get myself to stop eating all the damn time?

So there you go. The night before my second knee surgery in a little over a year and I'm remembering all of the silly stuff that sucks balls but you'll never hear about.

You're welcome.

Monday, September 5, 2016

Growing up is for suckers, so please stop

To my rotten, beautiful, silly kid,
You start kindergarten tomorrow. Holy crap. Really?! How is this reality?!

Wasn't it just yesterday you snuggled into my chest on the couch to watch Price is Right and take a 10 am nap while we stayed in our PJs? 

Wasn't it just yesterday you pretended every. single. thing. was a telephone and you'd loudly answer, "Hewwo?" to the imaginary ringing? 

Wasn't it just yesterday that you knew every single word to every single Fresh Beat Band song, but still wouldn't say "mama"? 
Wasn't it just yesterday that you'd use a piece of string, a lego and anything else you could find to measure my swollen pregnancy belly?

Wasn't it just yesterday that you adorned yourself in a tiara, rain boots, a Super Girl dress and a guitar to entertain us?
Wasn't it just yesterday that you decided pants were lame and you'd only wear skirts and dresses and headbands from here on?

And more importantly, wasn't it just yesterday that I graduated from high school?! Damn. This whole growing up business makes me feel old. Really, really old. But you? You are my youth and my fire and my light and my silly and my drama.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

Heartfelt Diary Entry- Episode 1

Dear diary,

I love my kids. I swear I do. When I think about something happening to them I tear up and feel clammy. When they get hurt my stomach lurches. When they feel rejected by others my heart literally seizes up and I want to shake that other child and remind them that my kids are cooler than they are. (Do you hear that, 10 year old neighborhood boys? My 5 year old daughter who wants to ride her My Little Pony bike - with training wheels of course - is cooler than you. Don't be jerks.)  But I need an honest moment.

Dude, my kids suuuuuuck lately. T is full of these mannerisms and responses and everything else. His humor is out of this world. E is such a great reader, and so full of knowledge already. She's becoming quite the little lady.  BUT. THE. WHINING. Oh, the whining.

"I want chocolate milk! No, not that chocolate miiiiiillllk! I want the special chocolate!  Ew, you put too much special chocolate in. You haaaaaate me! [Insert cat-hiss here because a certain someone uses this to show her disapproval]"

"I want Fozen (not a typo). NOO! I want EJ Masks. NOOOO! I want Mickey! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I want Go Go Gabba! Mama NO! Go away Mama! I DON'T LIKE THAT!"

School starts Tuesday for the big kid but I think I may start researching boarding schools that start at age 2 1/2. Absence makes the heart grow fonder or some shit, right? I could definitely use a fonder heart.


Like, yesterday.

This tired mama