First of all, I want to thank everyone who commented on my last post and said how I awesome I am. I mean, that wasn't the point of sharing that story, but it's really really nice to hear that you guys think I'm amazing. It was like...validation. I wish I was a blogger back when Monkey was born. I wouldn't have felt so alone.
And for the record, I think that you are ALL amazing too!! I think mothers have to be amazing, just to endure motherhood in general. Anyone who has ever had to potty train another human being deserves a trophy. A big one.
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Husband and I threw a birthday party for our boys yesterday. I'm so glad we combined their parties this year, because they are SO MUCH WORK. Not to mention entertaining 11 kids between the ages of 3 and 6 isn't exactly my idea of a good time.
Before the party I was trying to find a place near us that would blow up some balloons. Just regular latex balloons. It doesn't sound difficult, right? It was a pain.
One of the places I checked was the dollar store. I asked the young check-out girl girl if they did latex balloons. And she said:
"No, we only have the mylex ones."
Mylex?
So I was wondering how old you have to be to talk to young people in a sweetly condescending way and get away with it? I really wanted to say, "They're called mylar, sweety." And give her one of those 'I'm old and I know so much more than you' smiles. I really can't wait until I'm old enough to do that.
I finally ended up getting the balloons from the grocery store down the street. They were expensive, but I was tired of looking and had a cake to go home and rescue (it really needed rescuing.)
If you've never gotten balloons from the grocery store down the street, then you probably don't know that the produce guys have to blow them up on saturdays when the regular chick isn't there. This proved interesting. I almost offered to blow them up myself when he came over and said:
"Oh man, I hope we have enough propane to blow all these up."
PROPANE?!!!!!
And when I say "blow up" I really just mean INFLATE.
Some people need to educate themselves on the subject of balloons. (And luckily, none of our balloons exploded during the party.)
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My surgery is tomorrow morning.
I'M SO NERVOUS.
This is like my ninth surgery in life, I shouldn't be so scared. But I am. I really really am.
But instead of freaking out about the big things, like the surgery going wrong and ending up blind, I keep thinking about that floating consciousness thing. And also that I'll have to wear my glasses for two whole weeks while I recover. Or more importantly - I won't be able to wear mascara to the surgery and people will SEE me.
The horror.
I'm so scared.
They should just knock me out (all the way, none of this floating crap) RIGHT NOW. Then maybe I could quit freaking out. And completely push out of my mind that I could wake up blind.
And for the record, I think that you are ALL amazing too!! I think mothers have to be amazing, just to endure motherhood in general. Anyone who has ever had to potty train another human being deserves a trophy. A big one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Husband and I threw a birthday party for our boys yesterday. I'm so glad we combined their parties this year, because they are SO MUCH WORK. Not to mention entertaining 11 kids between the ages of 3 and 6 isn't exactly my idea of a good time.
Before the party I was trying to find a place near us that would blow up some balloons. Just regular latex balloons. It doesn't sound difficult, right? It was a pain.
One of the places I checked was the dollar store. I asked the young check-out girl girl if they did latex balloons. And she said:
"No, we only have the mylex ones."
Mylex?
So I was wondering how old you have to be to talk to young people in a sweetly condescending way and get away with it? I really wanted to say, "They're called mylar, sweety." And give her one of those 'I'm old and I know so much more than you' smiles. I really can't wait until I'm old enough to do that.
I finally ended up getting the balloons from the grocery store down the street. They were expensive, but I was tired of looking and had a cake to go home and rescue (it really needed rescuing.)
If you've never gotten balloons from the grocery store down the street, then you probably don't know that the produce guys have to blow them up on saturdays when the regular chick isn't there. This proved interesting. I almost offered to blow them up myself when he came over and said:
"Oh man, I hope we have enough propane to blow all these up."
PROPANE?!!!!!
And when I say "blow up" I really just mean INFLATE.
Some people need to educate themselves on the subject of balloons. (And luckily, none of our balloons exploded during the party.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My surgery is tomorrow morning.
I'M SO NERVOUS.
This is like my ninth surgery in life, I shouldn't be so scared. But I am. I really really am.
But instead of freaking out about the big things, like the surgery going wrong and ending up blind, I keep thinking about that floating consciousness thing. And also that I'll have to wear my glasses for two whole weeks while I recover. Or more importantly - I won't be able to wear mascara to the surgery and people will SEE me.
The horror.
I'm so scared.
They should just knock me out (all the way, none of this floating crap) RIGHT NOW. Then maybe I could quit freaking out. And completely push out of my mind that I could wake up blind.
Comments
Let your mom know we're here if you guys need anything.
Everything will be fine...think positive! Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.
Please don't go blind. It would be hard to blog blind. And I would miss you oh so much. I'll really really try to remember to pray for you tomorrow. (Sometimes I say that I'll pray for someone, then forget, then feel HORRIBLY HORRIBLY GUILTY. Like if something somehow goes wrong, it's my fault.) So I'll really try to remember.
I almost went out yesterday with no makeup. I had contacts in, hair brushed and ponied up, and a bra on, and felt ready. Luckily I brushed my teeth and saw that I had NO EYES and million "blemishes." So I feel ya on the no mascara thing. Bummer.
Mylex? Really? You could have just made her feel stupid, and said "Um, I think they're called MYLAR." And I'm glad your house (or your balloons) didn't blow up during the party. :)
I second wonder woman's post, please don't be blind! I can't read Braille.
Mylex? Propane? WOW! That's quite the hysterical adventure you had there! BA HA HA
Good luck with your surgery!!! I will keep you in my prayers tonight.