Sunday, November 21, 2010

The 7 Dwarfs of Abdominal Surgery Recovery

For those of you who do not know already, I had abdominal surgery last Tuesday. It was laproscopic, which means it is much less invasive than a fully open procedure.

This would fall under the category of good news, in light of how miserable I have been since having this heinous procedure carried out on my body.

I have discovered the 7 dwarfs of this recovery:

Gassy
Painful
Nauseated
Hungry
Itchy
Bitchy
& Bored

I figure I must be on the mend given my level of boredom today. I am lounging around in my fluffy jammies ... looking at all of the things I could be doing with this time I have off to recoup ... except that I am not even allowed to strip my own frackin' bed. This makes me owly ... oh, okay ... BITCHY ... and HATEFUL ... because I am resenting the fact that my share of the work is simply not getting done. I know it is a heavier load than anyone really wants to admit, but my part of this equation is somewhat sizable. It's not really fair for me to feel this way ... I know that ... but I do.

I tried to wake up with a renewed attitude this morning ... it isn't exactly working out for me just yet. I need a project. Even sitting here to type this is making me dizzy and nauseated ... but I'm not so stoned I don't know my own name anymore - so I guess that's real progress.

Patience  ... my old nemesis. I guess that is what I must employ.

So - hope you all are enjoying your weekends. I'm going to go supervise the stripping of my bed.

D-out

PS ... Shorty just announced here moments ago that she misses the usual old get-mad-mom and wants her back. Suhweet ... kick mommy while she's down, puddin' - good for you.


Thursday, November 4, 2010

Cause and Effect

Last Saturday evening, my girls and I were seated in the family/living room watching a Halloween type cartoon jobby on one of the kids' channels. I believe it was the Flintstones' special. (I was reading and feigning interest in what the kids had to say about various parts of the show.)

Getting on in the program, Shorty was beginning to get restive. She was sitting on the arm of my chair and Stretch had pulled the hassock/humpty/foot-stool over next to us and was sprawled across it. Apparently (and rather suddenly) Shorty found her proximity to us an affront, and proceeded to turn her little self sideways and start kicking Stretch and pushing her off her perch.

This, of course, caused the very natural reaction on Stretch's behalf of whining her freakin' head off ... which caused me to raise my voice to Shorty ... which caused Shorty to begin kicking harder ... causing Stretch to wail ... and onward ... until I reached over beside me, grabbed Shorty's pants (at the legs) and lifted her legs up and around and sat them on my lap - while I was scolding her for harassing her sister.

At this stage in the proceedings, Shorty sprang from the chair, stamped her little foot, and pushed her balled up little fists down against her thighs ... she then turned on her heel and marched (Military style) out of the room and stomped her way up the stairs ... where she stayed for roughly 15 minutes - until I conned Stretch into going up and talking her into coming back down, she didn't right away, but when she eventually did descend the stairs, she had an envelope for me ... and inside was this:

 
(For anyone who does not speak or read '5 year old' this means "I don't love Mom" ... which is only written this way because there is no symbol for hate of which she is aware ... next I'll be getting a swastika through my picture or some such thing...)
I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I did neither. I thanked her for the lovely artwork (at which point she scowled at me and huffed off to another part of the room to finish the show) and then eventually, I sweet talked her into getting back up on the arm of my chair to cuddle with me again.

I am in so much trouble ... oh boy!