big week

I've been mildly to moderately stressed out before, but never anything like this. Work is wild, which isn't helping anything. Usually I get a break from life between 8:30 and 4, but not lately.

My thoughts are full of surgical mishaps and giant pulsating tumors and stuff that I keep out of this blog because there are, in fact, a few facets of privacy in my life. My face hurts, but not as bad as my nethers. I'm scared something is really wrong down there because there have been stabby pains for quite some time now. I get the biopsy tomorrow and will hopefully find something out by Labor Day. I keep telling myself that nothing can be so bad between my waist and my knees that it can't be fixed. It isn't like I have a brain lesion or a hole in my heart or anything. Thankfully it isn't my liver that is diseased, so I can still self-medicate with booze. Doctor's orders say no real drugs three weeks before surgery, so that took me away from my routine of popping arthritis meds and sleep-inducing allergy pills since early July, twenty-one days before my original faceoff date.

Yeah so, my entire body is sore, my lady is rotting from the inside out, my drug-free joints have a hard time bending and straightening, my nose has completely failed me, my right eye can't focus, my hair is falling out, and I can't keep weight on to save my life. I have a balding patch on the top right side of my head and I'm breathing like a fat person on a flight of stairs and I'm embarrassed to tell you what I weigh but I haven't weighed this little since eighth grade and I'm considering calling the anesthesiologist because I'm a bit worried that the dosage of go-to-sleep juice he decided on when I went for my pre-op may be a little strong. There's probably a fine line between getting put to sleep like a sick patient and getting put to sleep like a sick dog and I don't really want to cross that.

I do have a baby to stay alive for, after all. And this blog that is supposed to be entirely dedicated to him. Which is why you came here in the first place... Jake will be on vacation at my mom's house in Erie, Pa next week while I'm laid up. He will get to go to my Aunt Janie and Uncle Greg's house and play in their giant back yard and he will feed the koi in my mom's pond and he'll get doted on over at Sarah Reed when he visits my grandmother and the Erie Zoo and Presque Isle and Asbury Woods and Waldameer and maybe even get to ride out to Fairview to go to Creamland if he is good. Hell, he will probably get to go to Creamland even if he is the world's biggest brat. Whatever. He is too little for a Crunch Coat Cone, so he loses in the long run.

My mom is really excited and plans to cart Jake around in a giant Radio Flyer that he got for Easter. I don't think that is going to work out for her, so I suggested an umbrella stroller.

She bought him outfits to wear to the zoo and a new bathing suit and a bunch of other stuff. I'm hoping it fits him because it seems that he has gone from his 12-18 month stuff fitting him well if not a little big to needing 18-24's and even a few 2T's. The Size 5 superfly Adidas shell toe Superstars that were a bit too big when I bought them a few weeks ago are now too small. Jake's stompers need a 6.

The prospect of a baby-free ten days and a bottle of Rx drugs sounds so inviting, but I know that by day four (six if those drugs are really good) I'll miss him so much that it will kill me not to pick up the phone, but I'm going to let my mom have her week with him and she can parade him around my hometown with little interruption from me, because I know that the day after he comes home again I'll be ready for another break. Funny how that works.

I'll send him away with a few outfits and his blanket and his bear even though I secretly like to sneak Bear into my bed when Jake sleeps away. I'll suffer this once, but if I don't do well Bear might have to be accidentally left behind next year. I'm kinda selfish when it comes to being a mom.

Jake is still the main maniac in town and all around. It is kind of nice that he doesn't require much in the way of toys and entertainment. He is happy running through the house with a phone or a remote in one hand and keys in the other if he isn't coloring. He is trying to put together sentences, but it makes him harder to understand. Life was easier when he would stick to one or two words. Now we have to listen hard for those words mushed in between all the jibber jabber. He does well with "in the ___" and "my ___" and "___ please" phrases, but not so well with everything else.

For fun, I try to teach Jake big words since he is all of a sudden into repeating everything we say. Most babies do this much younger, but not my kid. Instead he usually just listens to us and screams the words he already knows. If I say "I have to get in the car to go to the store and buy some apples" Jake yells "CAR! APPLE!". Now that he is mimicking I've been trying to get him to say "ambulance" ("amabobosee") and "alligator" (he doesn't even try anymore. He just claps his hands and says "chomp"). I love exploiting that kid. It makes me feel better. Today we might move on to big bad "B" words.

Any suggestions?