Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for

Back on day one, I talked about things I hate about myself and it’s the fact that I dwell on things. One of the things I dwell on sometimes is an argument I had with my father about a year before he died.

At the time, my grandmother (mom’s mother) was ill and she was fighting tooth and nail to survive. She was an insulin dependent diabetic and was slowly going into kidney failure. Over the course of about 2 years, she was in and out of the hospital, in and out of doctor’s offices and I had called 911 on more than one occasion when she was lapsing into heart failure because of a build up of fluids in and around her heart (see kidney failure).

My dad on the other hand, was a diabetic and it was more or less under control but he had some foot issues that needed addressing. Diabetics can have a terrible time with their feet if they aren’t careful and my dad had had one thing after another for about 5 years.

In some diabetics, blood sugars can react dramatically to stress and sickness. A diabetic who uses diet alone can get a terrible cold and end up in a diabetic coma because the illness aggravates the glucose levels. My dad was one of those people. As long as we watched over his feet and he stayed healthy, his blood sugar was great.

But that’s the problem: we’d get his feet healed up and then he’d wear a new pair of shoes and end up with a blister. A blister that when not treated or monitored would turn into an ulcer and then we were back at the hospital, back at the wound care clinic, back on meds to control his sugar. But here’s the thing: he wouldn’t check his feet daily, so by the time he noticed that there’s a gaping, oozing hole on the bottom of his foot, he’s running a 104 fever and wondering why he’s sick.

So Mom and I had to take on watching over his feet daily. He just wouldn’t do it. If I were home when he took off his shoes, I’d have to literally go into the living room where he’s watching tv and check his feet. Mom would do it when I was away or working late.

On one such evening, I noticed a spot, applied the ointment prescribed by the doctor and told him to make an appointment to see the doctor.

Next day, he said he forgot, so I made the appointment. He skipped out on the appointment. Etc etc etc. This went on for about 3 weeks – meanwhile, this spot is turning into an ulcer and I am treating it to the best of my ability and scheduling and rescheduling his appointments right, left, and sideways.

What ultimately happened was that he ended up losing his leg right below the knee. YES IT WAS THAT SERIOUS!!!

Could they have saved it if he’d gone in earlier? I don’t know. I only know that at that moment, I was angry with him. Angrier than I have ever been with anyone in my whole life.

And during a conversation where he was feeling sorry for himself, I said the thing that haunts me to this day.

I said: “It’s like you asked for this. You didn’t do anything to help me save your foot. You deserve it.”

I wasn’t immediately sorry that I said it. I had to let the anger burn a little more before I could apologize to him and even then it had done it’s damage and had seriously damaged my relationship with him.

When he died a few months later, those were the words that burned in my brain at his service. Not the memories I had of being daddy’s girl or the fun we had when I was a kid. It was one angry, careless moment.

There’s not much else in my life that I regret , but this is a biggie.

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Day 2: Something you love about yourself

I love my life.

I have the best husband, the best daughter, the best in-laws, the best friends anyone could ask for.

I’m not satisfied with where I am, but I’m really very happy.

I love my optimism.  When irritating stuff happens, I just figure it’s a short irritation and move on with my life.

I love my sense of humor. 

I routinely make myself laugh and can usually get someone else to laugh.  I would far rather be the person who brings a little levity than the person who’s always solemn and quiet.

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Day 1: Something you hate about yourself

This is a tough subject.  We’re all so hard on ourselves and can usually pick out a hundred things wrong with us.  But how do you choose just one?

I decided that the thing I hate the most about myself is that I tend to dwell on things and bring them up over and over and over again.

Most times, I need to let it go and let God take care of the problem or I need to forgive someone or myself.

I’ll be talking more about this in a couple of days….

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30 Days of Me

I am going to use this little meme going around to tear apart my soul for the month of November.

Here’s the list of topics:

Day 1: Something you hate about yourself
Day 2: Something you love about yourself
Day 3:Something you have to forgive yourself for
Day 4: Something you have to forgive someone else for
Day 5: Something you hope to do in your life
Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do
Day 7: Someone who has made your life worth living
Day 8: Someone who has made your life hell or treated you badly
Day 9: Someone you didn't want to let go, but who drifted
Day 10: Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know
Day 11: Something people seem to compliment you the most on
Day 12: Something you never get compliments on
Day 13: A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough times
Day 14: A hero that has let you down
Day 15: Something or someone you couldn't live without
Day 16: Something or someone you could definitely live without
Day 17: A book you've read that changed your view on something
Day 18: Your views on gay marriage
Day 19: What is your opinion of religion?
Day 20: Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21: (Scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you got into a fight a couple of hours before. What do you do?
Day 22: Something you wish you hadn't done in your life
Day 23: Something you wish you had done in your life
Day 24: Make a playlist to someone and explain why you chose those songs
Day 25: The reason you believe you're still alive today
Day 26: Have you ever thought about giving up on life?
Day 27: What's the best thing you've got going for you right now?
Day 28: What would you do if you got pregnant (or got someone pregnant) right now?
Day 29: Something you hope to change about yourself
Day 30: A letter to yourself

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Revenge of the Wart

So I go a week ago Tuesday to get this frickin’ wart removed.

Having surgery requiring anesthesia is tricky business when you are pregnant.  For one thing, most of the anesthesia passes through the placenta and will dope up the kid too… this is not a good thing.

So I get to the hospital, get registered and get taken to pre-op to strip off and put on a hospital gown.  I made a point of telling everyone I ran into that I was pregnant so that if it was relevant to what they were doing, they would know.

Nurse Rita put in an IV and then used a handheld doppler to find the baby’s heartbeat.  Found it pretty quickly and the baby kicked her – Miss Rita thought that was fun.

Then the anesthesia came in to discuss options for anesthesia and agreed that a block was the best thing.  He originally wanted to do a spinal I think but my podiatrist suggested a block of just the leg from the knee down on.  When you get this, it’s called a popliteal sciatic block.  I was also given a little “get happy” juice in my IV to relax me while they placed the block.  It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.  I do remember singing Chantilly Lace at one point – a song which neither my doctor nor my nurse knew until I started singing it. It’s supposed to take 20-30 minutes for the block to work fully at this point.

And then we were on our way to the OR… and the LASER.  I cannot help but say laser like Dr Evil in the Austin Powers movies so please think it that way as you read.

Anyway, we get in there, I get set-up the rest of the way and then the podiatrist realizes that I am not fully numb when he attempts to put a little local anesthesia in to finish off the needed numbing.  IT HURT LIKE HELL!!  I finally said some very bad things and they gave me a little pain meds in the IV to assist.

Y’all they gave my Propanol.  YES THAT PROPANOL.  The drug that basically killed Michael Jackson.

And then I wondered why he would ever want to use it.  When it would go into the IV in my hand, my hand would start hurting very badly – at one point, I asked if my hand was falling off because HOLY MOLY it hurt that bad.

Did you know that if you have laser surgery, that everyone in the room, including the patient, has to wear protective eye wear?  Yeah, we were all sporting what looked like Oakley sunglasses for the entire procedure.

So they finish up, wrap my foot in about 32 feet of gauze and roll me off to Recovery where the fun really started.

For one thing, it completely freaked them out that I was pregnant.  They kept asking me how far along and I kept tellin’ em 20 weeks and they kept saying they had to get fetal heart tones before I left. They also were freaked that I have gestational diabetes.  That would require a glucose check and they had to go find a monitor.

So they find the glucose monitor and my sugar is 116 – not too bad considering I’m stressed. (Yes, stress affects your glucose level) and then I get a cup of ice with my beloved cran-grape juice.  GAWD, I love that stuff!!

The really fun part comes when they try to get the fetal heart tones.  Baby is AWAKE AND MOVING at this point.  The little handheld doppler has to have 10 seconds to register the heartbeat and the little booger just kept moving and then they’d have to search again.  They weren’t used to doing fetal heart tones so by the time it was over, I was completely covered in the gel they use to make the doppler slide across your skin better.  And Nugget kept KICKING THEM!!!  At first, they were kinda freaking out, but then it became a game of “will the baby kick again and then move?”

We finally get heart tones (147) and blood pressure (134/82) and then I’m off to discharge to get my prescription for pain meds, instructions for care, the IV removed and I get to get my clothes back on and go home!

I was given a pain med (Perc*cet) before we left the hospital.  I forgot that if I take that stuff with an empty or nearly empty stomach that it makes me wickedly sick.  Ugh, I almost had to have Moo pull over so I could hang my head out the door like a dog.

We left the house at 9 that morning and got back at 3.  I was hoping to get back around 2 but everything with doctors and hospitals always seems to take longer than you think.

When we got home, I could not feel my foot or lower leg at all so it was fun to get into the house.  And then Moo and I thanked his sister who stayed with Phoebe (YOU ROCK SIS!!) and had some lunch and then I took a little nap.

The pain/feeling came back around 3 am.  I am thankful that I followed the doc’s instructions and took a pain pill before it came back.  Otherwise, it would have likely been a lot worse.

So for the last week, I’ve been wearing some lovely footwear, hobbling around the house (can’t drive because of my foot and the pain meds), but mostly I’ve been ok.  Strange what you can adapt to when you need to.

Moo has taken REALLY good care of me.  He has been cooking some, taking care of the house some and just being incredibly supportive.  He’s also helped me soak and wrap my foot twice a day.  He became a wrap expert with his toe last year so his expertise has been invaluable.

So I guess the moral of this story is: if you go to a public locker room, WEAR SOME FRICKEN SHOES, because warts are not fun.

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Don’t be a Sheep…

Today is my dad’s birthday.  He would have been 70.

My father was not a perfect man.  He was not a good husband.  He thought, like many men, that if he provided for his family, that was the best he could do.  As a result, he missed many school events, family events and ruined his health.

But I am not here to talk about the things my father did wrong in his life.  I know he realized a lot of this towards the end of his life.

I am here to talk about he taught me.

He taught me three things that I hope to teach my own children.

ONE: Don’t be a poodle. 

This means, don’t let people run over you.  Don’t let people take advantage of you.

Two: Don’t be a Sheep.

This means: don’t follow the crowd.  Sheep are stupid and believe anything anybody halfway reputable tells them.  If you want to have a strong belief about something, think it through as completely as possible from as many angles as you can. 

My dad would have a field day with Fox and MSNBC…

Three: Don’t take any wooden nickles.

This means: figure out what motivates someone else when they want to help you or give you something for free.  If someone is telling you the sky is blue and you know that it’s raining outside, think about why they are interested in you believing their story.

Because of my father’s influence, I am a major skeptic.  Moo gets frustrated with me because I can be rather stubborn and sometimes have to be shown things to have them proven to me.

But at the same time, if someone debates me about something, they better be ready to hit me with some facts.  And those facts had better be good and reputable.  I am good at this because if my dad heard me say something about what I thought or believed, I had to justify my thinking – even if he agreed with me.    If I couldn’t support my thinking, I would be given homework to find 3 pros and cons to my premise and I had better be prepared to defend it.

Because of this, I carefully examine my thoughts.  I carefully examine my beliefs.  And I have facts to support what I say.  And as my dad could and would punch holes in theories, I have to keep my thinking in line with previous beliefs.

And for everyone who gets frustrated with me when I won’t change sides on something – you can blame my dad.  He was the 2nd most stubborn man to walk this planet.  Only his dad – who did the same thing to HIS children – can be classified as more stubborn.

Daddy, I miss arguing with you so much.

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Half Way Baby…

Today, I am 20 weeks pregnant.

WOO HOO!!!

I am feeling a lot better.  Still having trouble with eating breakfast.  All my normal breakfasts (cereal, fruit, oatmeal) makes me sick, so I’m eating boiled eggs and crackers for the most part.

I FAILED my Glucose Tolerance Test.  BIG TIME.  As in, I got 189 on it.  At a range of 140 to 180, they make you do the 3 hour Tolerance test.  At 189, they just call you a diabetic and forget the 3 hour test.

So if there’s an upside to getting the GD diagnosis this early, it’s that I don’t have to drink any more Glucola EVER AGAIN.

The downside?  Since I still have my blood monitor, I’m already testing my blood 4 times a day.  Which means that I’m sticking myself, saying bad words and then adjusting my diet.  Which just seems to lead to more boiled eggs as they don’t run my sugar up.

If eating boiled eggs 3 meals a day will postpone taking insulin shots like I did in the last pregnancy, I will eat them with a smile for the remainder of the pregnancy.

Next week, I’m finally having my foot surgery.  THANK GOODNESS!!  My foot hurts and I am tired of feeling like I have gum stuck to my foot.

And just to gross y’all out, I’ve posted a picture so you can see what I’m walking around on.  If you are squeamish, don’t look.  If you like looking at weird stuff, here you go…

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I am clearly insane…

I have decided to do something great.  Or it could be crazy.

I have decided to have a full and ready freezer by the time this kid makes its’ appearance in March.

So what does that mean?

It means that I will have a complete plan of every meal we will eat from the middle of February through March.  It also means that I will have a goodly number of those meals in the freezer ready to pop in the oven.

No, I do not plan to keep Stouffer’s or Banquet or even Schwann’s in business for the next 6 months.

I plan to cook almost everything myself.  Yep, mostly homemade stuff.

I realized that after Phoebe was born, there was about 6 weeks where we ate a lot of junk because I was just not up to cooking healthy meals and Moo wasn’t up to gourmet cooking either.

Don’t misunderstand that.  My husband is a great cook.  He’s the only man I’ve ever met who doesn’t know how to grill, but he’s a great cook.

It was just that by the time he got home from dinner, listened to whatever post-partum rant I had going on, and decompressed from work, the only thing to cook were burgers or hot dogs.

I have decided this time will be different.  I have decided that this time, the only grocery trips right after the Nugget arrives will be for fresh milk, bread and whatever I’m craving.

So how to plan something like this?

First, I needed to know how many meals we were talking about.  I decided that this calendar needs to start the week before my due date because I’ll have the c-section about a week before that.  My meal planning cycle starts on Saturdays so I started my calendar on the Saturday of the week before.  I also decided that since I will at that time be 9 months pregnant, there’s no way that I’ll want to do anything much besides lie on the couch like a beached whale anyway.

I want the meals to be planned through March and again, since my plans always run Saturday through Friday, that takes us through April 1st.  That is a total of 6 weeks.  That’s 6 weeks of breakfasts, lunches and dinners.  I also wanted to include snacks but decided to give up that – at least for now.

So 42 breakfasts, 42 lunches, 42 dinners!  WOW!!!

The next thing is to come up with things to fill in.  I came up with a list of everything I can and like to cook.  I decided the like to cook would be important since I don’t want this to be a huge mountain of dread.

I came up with a list of 50 items that I can cook/prepare.  I say prepare cuz I’ve got cold cereal on that list.  YES, I COUNTED CEREAL.  MY KID LOVES IT!!!

Not every one of these meals will freeze beautifully to quote “Steel Magnolias”.  So I had to notate which ones will have to be made from scratch – like a big salad – we love big salads in this house - and also the ones that were slow cooker meals.  I also noted where something was a good lunch option or would also work for breakfast (this is important cuz who doesn’t like breakfast for dinner?)

My goal is for every meal to be something that requires less than 20 minutes of prep time.  Note, I did not say 20 minutes of cooking time.  Most of the meals that I plan to cook ahead need to thaw in the fridge overnight and then be cooked in the oven for at least 30 minutes.

I already do a lot of this now.  It’s why I love my slow cooker.  Take 10 minutes in the morning to put together an amazing meal, throw it into the cooker on low and it’s magically done in time for dinner.

One example of something that totally fits my requirements is my homemade veggie beef soup.  It’s simple simple simple.  It takes 2-1/2 to 3 hours to cook, but most of that is simmering time.  There’s very little prep work – only about 10 minutes of chopping.  Then, all I have to do is keep an eye on it.  If I want to add homemade cornbread, I just set a timer for an hour before dinner is done to remind me, then at that time, I throw together the ingredients and stick it in the oven.  It adds maybe another 10 minutes of prep time.

Part of what I’m trying to avoid come March is that feeling that there’s nothing to eat – even though I’ve got a cabinet full of stuff – but it’s all going to TAKE SO MUCH WORK… <insert whining> when I’m already tired… <more whining> and then we’ll have to go to the groooooooccccceerrrrryyyyyy stoooooooooorrrrrrrreeee.

In my head, I’m thinking is that if I’ve got something already planned and the majority of it is in my freezer or thawing in my refrigerator and all I’ve got to do is wander into the kitchen at 5:30 and throw it into the oven, then I’ve got no real excuse.

And Mickey D’s will not make any money off of us this Spring cuz I’m too <whining> TIIIIIRRRRRREEEDDDD

I’ll post my list when I get it done…

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Adventures in Pregnancy

Last week was… interesting.

On Tuesday, I went to the perinatologist’s office for the 16 week ultrasound and the second blood draw for genetic testing.

I have decided not to post the ultrasound photo, because frankly, unless you are a trained professional, there’s no way that you’re gonna see anything.  I had to ask the technician to tell me what the picture showed and I still don’t see it…  Anyways, the Nugget measured in at 16 weeks 3 days and looked really good.  Placenta looked good; fluid was perfect.

Preliminary results from the first blood draw were back with my risks of Down’s Syndrome being 1 in 2000 and Trisomy 18 is 1 in 10,000 so again, I’ve got the risk of a 20 year old of having a child with these issues.  However, since I’m an asshole, my child has a 50% chance of that so you know.. whatever…

Wednesday, I spent the morning at the OB/Gyn’s office.  I had to do a 1 hour glucose tolerance test and they had to re-do my Pap smear from the 12 week visit.  They didn’t get enough cells the first time to get a reading. 

I met with a new doc this time: Dr Francis – a sweet lady about my age with 7 year old twins.  She was incredibly gentle during the pap smear procedure, but still there was a spot on my cervix that bled like crazy.  She said it wasn’t a polyp but rather just a really sensitive spot that bled the moment she touched it with the collection q-tip.  It bled enough that she used a little silver nitrate to make it stop.  I started cramping while she worked on me and the cramping and some light spotting continued for the rest of the day.

I drank the lovely orange Glucola before the examination so about the time we were done with the exam, it was time for my blood draw.  I wonder now if I was dehydrated because it was really difficult for the tech to get blood.. she ended up hitting my good donation spot and it fizzled out before she got enough so she ended up hitting the top of my hand.

I must digress here.. I do not have good veins and as this story continues you’ll hear about the adventures that causes.  The veins in my arms are small and roll like crazy.  I have one good spot on my right arm that once you hit it, will give whatever you need but you’ve gotta work for it a bit.  It’s for this reason that I don’t give blood.. it’s just too hard to stick me…

So I go home, feed the kiddo lunch and then lay on the couch the rest of the day.  The cramps were pretty bad and I will admit here and now that I was worried.  I even started timing them like contractions for a little while.  They kept coming in waves and I was concerned.

Thursday morning, I wake up with just a slight twinge of cramps and during the day, the spotting stopped.  I didn’t think anything else about it until about 6PM as I took a quick pit stop before I started dinner.

Y’all, I was bleeding like I had started my period and there were clots.. not big ones but clots nevertheless.

I freaked out.

I knew I needed to go to the hospital but I didn’t know whether I should go to Labor and Delivery or to the Emergency Room.  I called my OB’s office.  My hands were shaking so bad when they called back that I hit the wrong button on the phone and sent the call to voicemail.

Thank goodness, the nurse on call left a message telling me to go to the emergency room.

Moo would be home any moment so I moved fast.  I packed Phoebe’s diaper bag with extra diapers and snacks, filled her water cup up, and packed a few toys.  And then I found and put on my shoes, located my wallet and keys and sat down with my feet up to wait on Moo.

By 6:25, we were in the car headed for the hospital.

I freely admit that I was scared to death.  I freely admit that I cried all the way.

I was so upset that by the time I got there, my blood pressure was sky high: 180 over 101…

Now, I’ve had a problem with hypertension in the past.  I also know that I’m one of those delightful people that on the outside looks calm and peaceful but on the inside is seething.   I could go into a whole diatribe about how our blood pressure goes up to help us deal with stress at hand, getting us ready to flee if necessary.  Medical personnel see blood pressure like mine on Thursday evening and freak out.  They see me as a stroke waiting to happen.  I know that I am simply reacting to the problem at hand and given the opportunity to calm down, my blood pressure is perfect.

I sent Moo to the cafeteria with Phoebe for dinner.  Meanwhile, I’m sitting there scared.  Right before I get called back, Moo and Phoebe return from dinner. 

I get back to the examination room and I’m greeted by the most wonderful young doctor, a Dr Zirkin.  I explain the pap smear fiasco and tell him about my tendency towards hypertension when stressed and he says “Of course your blood pressure is up.  You’re upset. That’s what it’s supposed to do.”

At last!  A doctor with common sense!!

He orders an ultrasound and blood work.

The ultrasound reveals that Nugget is fine.  It reveals that I do not have placenta previa which was one of the potentially bad things causing the bleeding.  The ultrasound also reveals that my cervix is long and tightly closed, so the pregnancy isn’t in danger right now.

Having seen my little one waving at me on the screen and greeted with good news, my blood pressure drops like crazy. 

It takes 3 people and SIX needle sticks before blood work is finally together.  Two nurses can’t get me, the experts in the lab are behind at least 3 hours so the nurse brings in the delightful Dr Zirkin.  He goes for the radial artery in my right wrist.  This is painful but not as bad as getting an IV in your foot – don’t ask.  Again, I’m stingy with my blood.

Blood work reveals that I’m clotting normally and blood counts are good.  The OB on call wants me admitted for observation and to see me the next morning.

So we got to the ER at about 7, got called back about 8, and I got put into the “Short Stay” unit at about 2. 

Dr Zirkin told us about 11:30 they were keeping me and I sent Moo and the baby home.  She was starting to get a little wiggy and there was no way she was going to sleep in the stroller.

The room I was in was nice, but very small.  Just big enough for the bed, a chair, a hospital tray on wheels and a door to a tiny bathroom with only a toilet and a sink.  No shower as people weren’t supposed to be in this unit for more than 24 hours.

The nurses finally left me alone about 3 and I used Airplane! to help me go to sleep. Well except for the hospital bed that seemed to be possessed.  Every once and a while, it would suddenly start “roaring” and the mattress would inflate and then deflate.  Weird.

So I finally got to sleep and slept until about 7 when the nurse woke me up to take my vitals.  Then Dr Schaeffer, the OB who wanted me admitted came in.

He asked me questions about my last pregnancy, talked to me about the exam on Wednesday and talked to me about what was happening in this pregnancy.

It’s been determined that I have cervicitis or inflamed cervix – I’m calling it an “angry cervix”.  Basically during pregnancy, there’s tons of extra blood flow to that whole area.  The cervix is already sensitive so if anything “disturbs the peace” like sneezing or coughing or sex or even going over a speed bump too hard, you can have a bleed.  It’s not dangerous – just scary as all get out.

I’ve been ordered to take it easy for a few days – not exactly bed rest but just not doing a ton of running around. 

And as a reward for all the aggravation, Nugget did major flip flops for me yesterday and today…

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15 weeks and 6 days – when will I feel better again?

When I was pregnant with Phoebe, sometime around the 4-1/2 month mark, I started feeling better. I got some energy back. I wasn’t so nauseated.

I’m getting close to that same time now and I feel like dog crap. I ache all over. I’ve had a migraine off and on for 2 days now. I’m tired, tired, tired. I’m not able to eat more than a few bites before I feel like I’m gonna hurl. Oh the nausea has mostly passed, but it still rears it’s ugly head on occasion.

The truth of the matter is that I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.

Phoebe is in the middle of some kind of stage right now – she’s learning language really fast. We’re beginning to hear all kinds of words out of this kid, like “Mama, TREES!” while she points madly at the trees outside. Or “SHOES!” which usually means she’s either seen a pair of shoes in a book, on TV, or in the house or that she wants to put them on.

She’s fun to put to bed right now. She sings, talks or jumps in the crib for anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours every night. She’s also had a nightmare or something a couple of nights ago. When she finally woke up enough to start calming down, she did a lot of gesturing madly and telling me what had happened. I only wish I understood.

Add on that I’ve started a part time work at home job that keeps me busy during her naps and early mornings.

Still on the list are getting ready for an upcoming craft workshop and the PURGE.

THE PURGE is what Moo and I decided to do before we get the nursery ready for Nugget. Right now, Nugget’s room is a combo office/guest room. We’re gonna keep the bed in there, but Moo’s office has to come out and the closet emptied in preparation for Nugget’s things. We also need to paint that room.

Before we can really move the stuff out of Nugget’s room, I’ve got to move stuff around and declutter our bedroom to make way for one of the bookcases in the office. I still don’t know for sure where the other bookcase will go.. maybe the dining room?

Our bedroom is about 50% where it needs to be and I also want to tackle our kitchen which has already begun. We tackled the cupboard under the stairs a couple of weekends ago which is a closet in our kitchen – I don’t think you could classify it as a pantry… too strangely shaped.

Add on top of this that my foot – you know the one with the WART!!! – EWW EWWW EWWW EWWW EWWW – has been bothering me again. I went to the doctor last week, because I had a sort of.. swelling? on my foot and come to find out the swelling is the wart and it’s bigger and badder than before. So big and so bad that I’m putting acid – yes ACID – on it for the next 2 weeks and then I’m having laser surgery to take off the rest of it sometime next month.

So I’m kinda busy.

And tired.

And achy.

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