Skip to main content

on the subject of balloons

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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

cc said…
I'll be praying for you! Maybe you can ask them to just tape your mouth shut?

Let your mom know we're here if you guys need anything.

Everything will be fine...think positive! Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.
Wonder Woman said…
I'm still chuckling over propane in the balloons.

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.
Rachel Sue said…
Just so you know, I am a huge proponent of pushing the worst possible outcome out of my head until it becomes absolutely necessary. So I won't think about you being blind either.

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. :)
Anonymous said…
good luck- Tamara
LisAway said…
So it's tomorrow! (today!) I'll say a prayer for you. Try not to worry about the mascara. Probably the doctors and nurses already are good at imagining what people REALLY look like (when they're not in for surgery).
missOlea said…
Yeah, I have a feeling Propane and Birthday Candles wouldn't go so well together...

I second wonder woman's post, please don't be blind! I can't read Braille.
Heather said…
Quick and speedy recovery to you, girl. :)
Rhonda said…
good luck with the surgery! Since it's an actual EYE surgery I can see that you have to abide by the no make up rules...but for OTHER surgeries, I go light on mascara but darn-tootin', I'm wearing it! I can't go in there all BARE. They'll SEE ME! (we think alike!)

Mylex? Propane? WOW! That's quite the hysterical adventure you had there! BA HA HA
Emmy said…
Lol! Who knew getting balloons filled up could be so hard and so funny :)

Good luck with your surgery!!! I will keep you in my prayers tonight.
Claire said…
Eye hope your surgery went ok!

Popular posts from this blog

I am an artist.

I really am. But not one of those deeply moving, "what do you mean you don't understand my painting, it's BLUE" kind of artists.  I'm more like one of those "oh hey, a pen and a napkin, doodle doodle doodle" kind of artists.  Because I do it for fun.  And yeah, for money.  But still.  Fun....most of the time. But I feel like branching into new mediums.  Do you know how long it's been since I painted?  Like with something other than finger paints or the kids' water colors where all the colors are mixed so they just come out brown anyway? It's been awhile.  I've been itching to paint for months. I've also wanted to let Monkey loose on a canvas for awhile.  He's not like my other kids (who all carry mine and Husband's arty genes) who like to draw endless pictures of unicorns, princesses, transformers or dinosaurs.  Monkey likes to feel his art.  He'll probably end up being one of those deeply moving types.  And I'

I won't be offended if you answer NO to the question at the end of this post

So this post will probably lose me a lot of respect and friends and possibly even a few phone calls to the Health and Welfare department. But I just feel like posting it, it's kind of like saying it outloud, but without having to watch someone's face react to the horror. And today, I really feel the need to say it outloud. So if you read this and don't feel like being friends anymore, I get it. With everyone's kids going back to school (and our school district being the last to start in the entire world, so I'm still sitting here dealing with summer child overload) I keep reading the posts about how mothers are sad to see their kids go, and how much they're going to miss them, and how much they absolutely love motherhood. Want me to tell you what I think about motherhood? I hate it. There are times when I hate it more than any other thing on the planet. And there goes most of my friends. But I'm sorry. I do. I hate being a mother. I don't hate my c

I'm not fat, my scale just hates me.

That's what it is. It's probably an evil scale anyway.  Always lying to me.  Telling me I'm fat. The worst part about it is that the scale has also convinced all the mirrors in my house to play along.  And I know it got my pant size on board ages ago.  It's also managed to get the camera to cooperate, even though I treat that camera like one of my dear precious children.  And this evil, hateful scale has attached a big mound of blubber right on my midsection. Well guess what scale - I hate you too. ***************************************************** I think showers are a waste of time. You get in just to get all wet, emerge dripping, get a nice clean towel wet, redress yourself, figure out something to do with your crazy 'just got wet and now it's going to dry ultra fuzzy, don't even think about using a blowdryer' hair, and put on all the makeup that you just washed off even though your mascara could probably have passed for a whole extra d