The Queen's Rambles

I am deeply, deeply unhappy with my weight right now. I know it is a boring topic. I should just take care of it. I know that. But here I am, talking about it again. We’re back to self-loathing. I can’t stand looking at pictures of myself. I hate that I am starting to get out of breath when I have to walk too far. I hate this.

My weight has been a struggle forever. I always thought “one day I’ll be thin and beautiful.” That day never came, and at 38 I realize that day is never coming. It’s all downhill from here and I need to get my ass in gear, stat!

It was so easy to lose weight when Erik was a toddler. The kid never slept. The kid never sat still. He RAN everywhere. I would take him to the park for hours at a time and would literally chase him for three hours straight. I had to, or I would lose him. Plus, I would go to the gym for an hour and a half every day for the low-cost babysitting.

I had no idea how good I had it.

Going to the gym with Elsa has been almost impossible. I couldn’t leave her there for the first 15 months because she would have such a horrible melt-down. Then she was sick every other week. I was sick every other week. We were never sick at the same time.

I take her to the park, but she doesn’t run. I don’t have to chase her. She’s such an easy, easy toddler. Yes, she’s very two and has her moments of extreme tantrums. I’m just not doing all that extraneous running.

I never even connected my lack of weight loss with Elsa’s lack of running until an old friend pointed out that I was lucky I didn’t have to run all the time like I did with Erik. In her words, “that kid ran more than any kid I’ve ever seen in my life.”

I’m not blaming Elsa. Not at all. It just made me realize that I need to bump up my activity levels because I am not getting any natural exercise.

My goal was to lose 10 lbs from the date of my surgery to my physical. That gave me eight weeks. It’s been four weeks and I’ve gained two pounds.

Suuuuuuuucks.

I’ve cut down on snacking and I’ve been taking the kids for walks or to the gym. It just all feels so helpless. I need to do something extreme. I need to find a diet I can stick with and make work. I just don’t know what diet that would be. I’m not asking for suggestions. Please, please, please for the love of all that is unholy please do not make a single suggestion. I am just venting, not seeking advice. I’ve been struggling with this weight loss thing for 30 years. I’ve heard of every diet out there from Shangri-la to Paleo.

So bah humbug to me. I hope I can flip a switch in my head and turn my motivation on. I guess I just don’t want it bad enough. Or, more likely, I know that it takes a hell of a lot of work to do it and I’m not even sure it’s worth it.

I had an excellent Mother’s Day yesterday. Mike made sure I had gifts, plus I bought myself a new camera. The new camera isn’t blurry! I am taking clear pictures! You have no idea how happy this makes me!

I’ve had craptacular cameras for several years. Looking back at the clear, light pictures from Erik’s toddlerhood reminded me that I wasn’t always a horrible photographer. It is not all my fault that I can’t take a decent picture of poor Elsa. Sure, she does move around a lot and won’t look at the camera and nothing can fix that, but look at the picture above. I never would have gotten such a shot with my past three cameras.

The new camera? Total impulse purchase on sale at Costco. Fuji, waterproof, ugly green.

Anyway, Mother’s Day. After a good morning of sleeping in and opening gifts we headed out to a petting farm. Click through the pic for the full set if you care to see my kids around a bunch of animals.

Elsa was really scared of the animals at first, but by the end she was enjoying herself. She fell in love with the Flemish giant pictured above and didn’t want to leave. She also had a great time chasing chickens. I guess they weren’t as scary as cows and goats.

When we got home I had several e-mails from people wanting to buy all my diapers. I finally got off my duff and took care of all my old cloth diapers. I cleaned them up, sorted them, and listed them as a lot on Craigslist for a fair price. I think I will have them out of the house by this afternoon. Here’s hoping! They take up a lot of room and mental space. Mental space because I feel like I should maximize the amount of money I get for them, but to do that I would need to do a lot of work and deal with a lot of buyers who want something for nothing. I finally figured out that getting less money with less work on my part was better than getting no money because I procrastinated so long that the elastic crumbled. I have heard a couple of horror stories of the elastic crumbling on diapers that sit unused.

I tried to make cupcake ice cream cone things last night. Bethany posted pictures of some and it inspired me. My mom used to make them all the time, so I thought it would be funny to make them and frost them to look like real ice cream and trick Erik. Unfortunately he chose to be curious about what I was doing. When I wouldn’t tell him he called my mom and asked her what I was doing. How would she know? He described the process and she told him. He thought it was hilarious. Too bad I had no idea how full to fill the cones, so every single one totally overflowed and made a huge mess. I also didn’t have much luck making the frosting look ice cream like, but that didn’t stop the kids from enjoying them.

And now my handyman is gone, so it is time to run to the store in the pouring rain. Why, rain, why? It’s been pouring down for several hours with no hope of a break. We are out of groceries so I guess I have no choice but to brave it.

I made a chile colorado sauce last week and need to add more pork ribs to it to make a delicious soup. I am seriously addicted to everything I’ve made from Aaron Sanchez’s cookbook. Elsa and Mike agree. Erik? Not so much. If it has any flavor at all he opens his mouth and starts screaming. Kid doesn’t know what he’s missing.

If you’ve been reading long, you know that Erik and I struggle with homework. He kicks, screams, yells, tantrums, sulks, cries. Anything to get out of doing homework. It has been a lot better since he has a different teacher (current teacher out on mat leave), but he still doesn’t enjoy it, probably because it is way too much writing.

So yesterday he’s doing a math worksheet and asks me how do “do that thing with the x instead of the plus or minus.”

Yeah right. Like I have a clue how to teach a child how to multiply. Like he’ll actually sit still and let me explain it. I told him he would learn it in 3rd grade.

He brought it up again today and promised he would do his homework if I would just “pretty pretty pretty pretty please teach him the x thing.”

How the flying f-ck am I supposed to teach a 6 1/2 year old to multiply? I didn’t really grasp the concept when I first learned it and I was much older than that.

So I quickly showed him the idea of the “x” meaning “sets of” so 3×3 means 3 sets of 3. I drew it out with little dots and he immediately understood it. He started asking me to give him questions and he got them all right. Every damned one, even 8×8. And he did them all with mental math. Then he begged me to make him a worksheet, so I wrote out a 20 question worksheet and I sat there in shock as he did every single problem correctly. He only had trouble on the Zx0 problems, but quickly got that straightened out in his mind as well.

He truly is his father’s son. I am not trying to brag, even though I know this is totally braggy. I am just amazed that his mind can understand the concept of multiplication with barely any help from me. I learned multiplication tables in third grade, but it took me forever to understand how the numbers made sense and what we were actually doing with the numbers.

The worksheet has been tucked into his folder because he wants to show his teacher. I think this substitute teacher will be happy and congratulate him on a job well done. I don’t know what his real teacher would do, but I wouldn’t anticipate a big pat on the back from her. I find it sad that I don’t believe she would have been impressed or happy. I think any teacher should be happy and supportive when a student shows an interest in a new skill, especially a fundamental math skill. Even if the kid does talk too much and can be annoying because he won’t. Shut. UP. I know that’s why she doesn’t care for him.

I need to come up with a great teacher appreciation gift for his sub. I think her last day is May 22, but will have to confirm that.

For the curious, I went over to my neighbor’s house today and she was still pregnant. I was very relieved! She is on medication to keep her from going into early labor. I don’t really know all the details because her English isn’t great. The babe would have been about six weeks early. Doable, I know, but not ideal. I don’t know how she would handle a NICU stay with the baby plus deal with her two toddlers. Logistics gets so difficult when you start adding multiple children to the mix.

I went over to offer to watch her girls if she needed rest, but I was happy to see another neighbor was already there. When I first met the Pakistani girl I knew she could be friends with my Indian neighbor, but she didn’t even want me an introduction. There was no way she was going to become friends with an Indian. I know that the two countries have a lot of strife politically, but in our neighborhood people from both countries tend to flock together because the cultures are similar.

They finally did meet each other and now they hang out all the time. I am so happy for them because they both really needed a friend. I can’t fulfill that role for either of them more than on a superficial level because. . . well. . . I’m just not interested. I tried with both of them, but we were not kindred spirits.

Change of topic:

When my mom was here she brought a little SD card full of photos that I made for her a few years ago when I bought her a digital photo frame. I downloaded the whole thing to my computer and have been sitting her tonight, teary eyed, looking at pictures of Erik when he was a baby and toddler. I love who he is now and I love watching him grow up, but he sure was a cute little guy. I’m so glad to have these pictures back! I didn’t know they had survived the death of the old computer.

It was also fun to track the progress of his “tuft.”

Can you spot the tuft?
For the newer readers, Erik was born with a weird, purple birthmark on the back of his head. Even though he is a total blondie, it had black hair growing straight out of it. The hair just kept getting longer and longer and longer, sticking up higher and higher and higher until it finally got enough weight to fall over backwards. The doctor was so concerned about it that she ordered an MRI to make sure he didn’t have anything growing into his brain. I don’t know how parents with real medical issues don’t just curl up in a ball and die. Having my four month old put under general anesthesia was about the most stressful thing I’ve ever done. Granted, I think I had undiagnosed PPD, which made everything much worse than it really was.

He still has a big purple birthmark on the back of his head and the hair in that spot is darker than the rest of his hair. The ladies at the gym used to call him Patchy because it was really noticeable when he was younger. His hair is getting a lot darker now so it isn’t that obvious anymore.

You want to know the weirdest thing about his new soccer class? Almost every kid on his team is blonde! That just does not happen around here. This is such a culturally diverse area that my kids are usually the only blondes in sight. He was pretty upset about being the only one with blond hair and blue eyes in his kindergarten class earlier this year. He just wanted to be “more brownish.” He seems to be over that now, thankfully, because there’s not much I can do about making him more brownish. I find it’s very convenient to have a kid who sticks out. I was having trouble at soccer getting used to identifying him by more than hair color. I would be cheering for a blond head, but then the kid would turn around and not be Erik.

Someone asked about Erik’s dance class. He LOVES it. I love it! Instead of coming home and trying to kick us, like he always did with karate, he comes home and dances. It’s a break dancing class of all boys ranging from age 6-12. The teacher looked like he was about 15, but I am old so he could be much older and I wouldn’t know it. I sound like my mom, calling her doctor a kid. The boys get quite a work out and are exhausted by the end of the class. Unfortunately I can’t watch the class so I have no idea what’s happening. I just know he comes out with a big smile and cool moves that put me to shame.

Now that I’m using Google calendar, my days feel even more action packed than before. Probably because I am actually writing all this stuff down and seeing the busy-ness in black and white.

Today was supposed to be my “day of rest.” I only had to go grocery shopping, go to the dentist and take Erik to dance class. Easy peasy!

Then my neighbor called and the day turned into one of the most exhausting days in recent memory.

She’s about 8 months pregnant and has an 11 month old and 2.5 year old.

She was in labor.

Her husband was an hour away (or more, depending on traffic).

Contractions were coming every three minutes.

Ohshitohshitohshit.

Pre-term labor and a gaggle of kids without car seats is just what I needed to start my day.

I don’t know why I didn’t think to call 911. It never even occurred to me until much later that it would be been the proper course of action. I did not need to fear delivering a pre-term baby on the side of the freeway with three toddlers improperly restrained in my backseat, you know?

I didn’t know what else to do about the kids, so I just drove them to the hospital in the seats I had, which were all wrong for the ages and weights. I figured that if I got pulled over the police wouldn’t deal too harshly with me when I explained the situation. I was very glad it was at a quiet time of day so the chances of an accident weren’t as big. I drove very, very carefully.

Anyway, I asked my neighbor if she had a diaper bag, but she didn’t. She doesn’t have a car, so I guess she never goes anywhere. Why would she have a stuffed diaper bag? I had one diaper in my purse and no snacks at all. I did have money, but the machine wouldn’t take a $20. The staff suggested I go to the cafeteria when the kids started screaming for food. Please explain to me how people wrangle three children in public places?

If I had realized what was going to happen, I would have insisted on running into my house and grabbing a pack of crackers and some more diapers. I was just thinking “get this lady to the hospital!” not “oh crap! I’m going to be sitting in a waiting room with three toddlers for a couple of hours!” There was no way I was going to drive everyone back without proper car seats, so I was in a pickle. I hate being so ill-prepared. I figured if worse came to worse I could go to the pediatric unit. I know they have diapers and formula and other supplies for emergency situations because our MOMS Club donated a bunch of stuff to them for that purpose a few years ago. A lot of times families will come in with a child in an emergency situation and need everything from toothbrushes to underwear. I would just have to find this place and beg for supplies. The L&D would have newborn diapers and newborn formula, but I didn’t know if the formula would be appropriate for the baby. And I sure as hell know the newborn diapers weren’t going to fit any of the kids I was in charge of.

I was just a weeeeeeeeeeeeeee bit stressed.

Did I mention the two little girls don’t speak a word of English?

The dad finally arrived, checked on his wife and then drove the kids home. I kept them at my house for a little bit so he could go back to the hospital. All three girls needed a nap, but only the littlest one was able to fall asleep. It was pure chaos at my house.

I don’t know what happened with the pregnant lady. I couldn’t understand a word the dad was saying to me, but he said something about her being on a drip. Their car is home now, but I have no idea what that means.

It would really, really suck to be so far away from all your friends and support system and have a medical emergency. I’m glad I was able to help her out, but I just wish she had someone she could be more comfortable with and who could take better care of her girls. Not that I did anything wrong with them, but I don’t speak their language so they were pretty scared and confused about what was happening.

And now I am going to watch Castle! I hope it’s dreamy! Holy abrupt subject change, Batman!

I can't believe how crazy this week has been. I'm getting a new bathtub, which means we've been using our super powered tiny cubicle of doom shower. That starts the day off on a weird note. I must have my nice shower to wake up properly.

There is no such thing as a nice shower in the cubicle of doom. The showerhead has such high pressure that it practically knocks you over. Fast-forward to 4:02 and you’ve got my shower experience.

But you should see my new bathtub! It's not anything super fancy, but it is way, way better than the original! I can't wait to take a big soak on Friday.

I don't bathe my kids very often, so I thought not being able to bathe them for a couple of days wouldn't be a problem.

Hahahahahaahaha.

I must bathe them more than I thought. They were filthy the first night. Disgusting the second night. Tonight? There was simply no way they could go another night without a bath. I took my clothes off and had them get in the shower of doom. I thought they would scream, but they thought getting a beat down from streams of water was hilarious.

All this means that we have a worker bee at the house all day long. He's a really nice guy and very quiet. I don't know how he can work for hours and hours all by himself without a radio. I would be going nuts. It's just weird having another person around.

Not that I'm around much. I’m making the most of my mom’s last week of free babysitting.

On Monday I went to the dermatologist and had a full body scan done. He took off two moles–one from my knee because he thought it looked bad and one from my face because I thought it looked bad. He told my I was a very cystic person. His eyes about bugged out of his head when he asked about my laprosopic wound and I told him I had a teratoma removed.

Today and yesterday were completely insane. I had MOMS Club things in the morning, then had to go volunteer at the book fair for a few hours. Holy hell. How did I ever teach children? I can't stand to be in a room full of children. What am I going to do about a career when Elsa gets older? I don't think I can go back to that. The noise. The questions. The lies. The yells. The giggling over Justin Beiber. It wears a person out.

I met Erik's long term sub and really liked her. She gave him a packet of "challenge" math and wanted to talk to me about it. She kept telling me that if he got frustrated it was ok. He didn't have to do it. Don't pressure him. Blah blah blah.

I told her it would be no problem and that his biggest complaint about kindergarten is the lack of "real" math. I don't think she quite believed me, but she should be impressed tomorrow. He did the whole packet tonight (three worksheets that involved adding three digits together like 4+8+3). He said it was the most fun thing he's ever done in kindergarten. His only complaint was that it wasn't hard enough. I'm sure it will be a shock since he only did a couple of homework assignments in April. The fight is just not worth it. It's so hard for me to not force him to do homework because I am overly responsible, but the cost/benefit analysis leaves homework on the "not gonna fight it" category.

One of these days I will stop running around like a crazy woman. I don't know when that day will come.

Holy smokes, I’m tired. My friend had to go do something, so I agreed to watch her three year old son. He’s a good kid, but he’s a three year old boy. I forgot how exhausting they can be. I know everything he did was completely developmentally appropriate and he’ll grow out of a lot of it, but it was tiring to keep up with. At that age they just go from task to task to task, making a mess and not sticking with anything. A new place is even more crazy since there’s so many new things to explore. And the running. I forgot all about the running. He wasn’t even as bad as Erik used to be, but it was enough to make me call and get Mike and appointment for a vasectomy (not really, but maybe I should do so on Monday since he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. Now that we are using a family Google calendar it should be easy to schedule, right?).

Then Erik came home from school, my friend came over with her daughter and Erik brought another boy over so I had three kindergarteners, a toddler and a preschooler running all over my tiny townhouse, tearing everything a part and beating each other with light sabers. Neighborhood kids were knocking on the door every five minutes wanting Erik to come out. I was very ready for Calgon to take me away.

Speaking of Calgon taking me away. . . I’m getting a new bathtub! And it’s going to be 3 inches deeper than my current tub!

We had some money back from our taxes, so we budgeted a certain amount for home improvements. One of my friends has a handyman husband who I really like and trust, so I gave him a call and he came over to give estimates on a few things. The new tub installation was cheaper than I thought it would be! I wish I could get a giant tub with jets and all that, but it is a very small space. I’m getting the biggest tub that will fit in the space. I can’t wait.

We’re also getting a new French door with built in blinds for the basement. That was way more expensive than I thought, but mainly because there is a lot of work that needs to be done around the opening.

But back to my day. Did I mention I’m tired?

While my friend was here, Erik started whining that he wanted them all to leave so he could go play video games at another friend’s house. So embarrassing. I swear this child has no tact at all. I suppose most 6 year old boys don’t. By the time the afternoon ended I was ready to beat him with his stuffed snake (literally a plush snake toy). I didn’t, but I sure could have. Rudeness and whining are two things I just can’t tolerate.

How do you teach a child manners when they want to argue with you about everything?

He has invitations to two parties on the same day. He picked the one he wants to go to. He says he is going to tell the other kid that he has a better party to attend. My mom and I tried and tried to coach him to say “Sorry, I can’t come to your party because my mom has other plans.” Full stop. No explanation. We went round and round and round. He keeps saying he is going to tell the kid “Sorry, I can’t come to your party because I have other plans. . . to go to a better party.” He doesn’t seem to have any understanding of why that would be rude and hurtful.

Anyway, I think I am going to go see if Elsa is asleep so I can watch Fringe! I am so excited that they are letting them finish up with a 13 episode season. I didn’t think it would happen. By all rights is shouldn’t happen. But it is happening! I even dreamed I was in Fringe last night.

Also, I think I just got horse radish in my eye. Owie!

Thankfully I’m starting to feel back to normal. I still have a little soreness, but I can do just about everything except lift Elsa. I’m not sure anyone should be lifting that girl. I think she must weigh 40 pounds. Guess we’ll find out on Friday at her 2 year appointment.

I felt well enough to take my mom to Ikea yesterday. What a zoo! Of course, we knew it would be like that, but it was pretty exhausting. We took Erik because he loves the playland, but then he wasn’t able to play in the ball pit because someone peed in it. Talk about wanting to throw up!

Later we went over to a Kohl’s that’s a little farther afield than our local Kohl’s. I need to start shopping there more often for women’s clothing. It’s funny what a big difference the buyer makes. Their plus-sized selection was much younger than our local store, but they hardly had any toddler girl clothes.

I set up a “family” gmail account since I didn’t really want my current e-mail address listed in the PTA newsletter. I am still using my mosaicminds.net e-mail, so it just felt awkward. I know of at least one person who was curious and looked it up. Mike showed me the google calendar feature, which I sort of knew about but it never really entered my brain to use it. Nothing wrong with an old fashioned calendar on the wall, right? Now I’m obsessed with entering all my events. And then they pop up on my phone! Whoa. . . I’m entering the world of smartphones and technology. There’s just been so much new technology in the past five years that I can’t keep up.

Coordinating events on the calendar should be very helpful for us as a family. Communication is always a good thing, right? That’s my biggest problem in life. I think everyone should just know what I am planning and thinking and when they don’t magically read my mind I get cranky.

I’ve been very un-cranky today. Mike and my mom both commented on it, and I’ve noticed I’m a lot happier than I have been in weeks. Not being in constant pain seems to have a positive effect on my personality. Who’d have thunk it?

Although now I have another health worry. I’ve noticed a sore, hard lump behind my ear. It is not mobile like the pilar cysts on my scalp, so I’m a little worried. Should I call my regular doctor for an appointment or should I wait for my dermatologist appointment on April 30? My body loves to grow weird things, I guess. Cancer scares the shit out of me. I lost a five-year old cousin to cancer when I was eight. I usually don’t think of cancer in terms of myself, even though I grow all these lumps all over my head (and ovary and ear). I usually get myself freaked out thinking about Erik getting diagnosed. For some reason I always have these horrible anxiety driven scenarios about Erik, but I never think about these things happening to Elsa. I need therapy or something.

Does anyone read the Bloggess? Rather, does anyone NOT read the Bloggess? Wouldn’t she be a great judge on Iron Chef America? I never watch this show, but my mom is watching it right now. I think it needs an injection of Bloggess bizarreness. I have no idea if she is a foodie.

Speaking of shows, I can’t get this weeks Fringe episode out of my mind (season 4, ep 19). I won’t give any spoilers, but I will say I watched it twice and it was even better the second time. I never watch shows twice, especially not within two days of each other. I keep crying every time I think about it since I am pretty sure the show will be cancelled. This ep would be a great set-up for a feature film. Who knows what they are planning. I need more Fringe.

Ok, time for bed. Back to real life tomorrow. My mom has been getting Erik ready for school, but I think I need to jump back into the mom role.

I am bored out of my freakin’ skull. I hate laying around in bed for days. It’s not even comfortable, but I feel pretty trapped. The stairs really agitate my side. If I make an appearance in a public area, Elsa takes it as an invitation to crawl all over me. I am so sad when I see her little mama-wanting pouty face, but I really can’t stand to have her kick me in the side right now. I guess having an organ pulled out of your body is pretty traumatic. I was expecting to feel a lot better today.

I ordered a big climber set for Elsa’s birthday and set it up for an in-store pick-up. I was really dumb and didn’t pay attention to the part that said I would have to be there with photo ID. I could have put it in Mike’s name, but it never occurred to me. So today I got to go on a car ride that just about killed me. Something about your body moving so fast without being in control of all the bumps and jiggles is just really bad post surgery.

Elsa is totally in love with the climber thing. I was afraid it would be too small, but it seems to work for the moment. I really wish there was something between a toddler size climber and a full-on huge jungle gym for a little townhouse backyard. There’s a market for it, at least in our area. If I was a builder type person I would start making them and make a million bucks. I’d really like to buy a big slide and build a tower, but I know I don’t have that capability.

I’ve been watching way too much Hulu and Netflix and am totally bored with it all. Netflix kind of chaps my hide. Why don’t they have any of the shows I want to watch on streaming? And how come I can never find any decent movies? Bah. I should bite the bullet and sign up for DVDs again. Except Elsa pulled the DVD player out of my laptop and I can’t get it back in. I better get it taken care of before my warranty expires, eh?

Nothing else is going on. My world is pretty small at the moment. I did manage to make Elsa a birthday cake, though it was a two day process. Loving my new Kitchen Aid stand mixer! I whipped up a big bowl of 7 minute frosting with almost zero effort. That’s what I call a modern day miracle.

Elsa is the funniest, happiest, sweetest girl you can imagine. This picture is from Easter, but she looks pretty much the same today. Except her face is covered in red marker.

She has been such a joy these two years, even when she is exhausting. And she is getting really, really exhausting. She may be happy and funny most of the time, but she is also TWO and those twos are terrible. She wants to sit in her big brother’s booster seat, she wants to dress herself, she wants to do exactly what she wants when she wants. Sound like a two year old?

She talks talks talks non-stop, and leaves you no doubt about what she wants. When Erik turned two his doctor was on the fence about having his speech evaluated. We didn’t do it at that point because bilingual children typically start talking later than their peers. Instead of saying one or two words, he just started speaking in complete sentences about a month after he turned two.

Elsa, on the other hand, has been trying out words since she was 9 months old. She speaks in complete sentences now and has tons of words for everything.

I really wanted to do her birthday post justice, but I’m on percocet at the moment and can’t concentrate. My mom is talking on the phone and her voice is so loud that my ear drum is about to burst.

We had a pretty exhausting day around here. Erik starts soccer tomorrow and still needed cleats and shin guards. Mike was going to buy them, but I don’t know what happened with that. I thought I was feeling well enough to walk around a store, but I was so wrong. I thought I was going to pass out, which was not a pleasant feeling.

Elsa was quite a pill today because she is missing her momma. I have my new Kitchen Aid stand mixer, so I thought I could whip her up a cake in no time. And I did. I LOVE my mixer! But by the time it came out of the oven I was freakin’ exhausted and didn’t have any sugar so I couldn’t do the icing even I wanted to do it.

We also had a handy-man over to give some estimates on different things we want done. I had to walk up and down the stairs a couple of times, so that wore me out. I hate being such a wimp! I guess surgery is a good excuse, though.

I finally got smart and locked myself in my room after Elsa kicked the hell out of my stomach. I slept several hours and woke up feeling incredibly guilty for not having a birthday cake for Elsa.

Surprise! Someone from MOMS Club had brought her a present, birthday cupcakes, a balloon, flowers for me and a very tasty dinner. I love MOMS Club.

Erik has started wearing his hair in a mohawk.

If you lived in Sweden in the early 2000s, you will get this reference: he looks like he belongs on Zed TV. If you didn’t live in Sweden in the early 2000s. . .well. . he looks like a very stylish Swedish MTV VJ kind of guy.

The boy is not lacking in self-confidence. He got his report card yesterday and is doing great academically. “Of course, mom, I am the smartest person in Kindergarten.” Oh reeeeeallllly?

He also told me he is the most handsome kid in kindergarten and needs me to call a magazine so he can be in a magazine. I explained that you have to stand still and listen to a bunch of grown ups telling you what to do if you want to be a model. He lost interest, thank goodness.

Ok, I feel like I am writing and writing and writing and not saying anything remotely interesting or connected. My head hurts. I want to watch Fringe.

The good news: even though I am still sore from the surgery, the constant, horrible ovarian pain is all gone. I had no idea how bad it hurt until the pain was gone.