This is Rileyanne the morning of her Big Broadway Review. She was in several numbers with her brother while at Dance Camp and always managed to find "her" light. At one point the kids while dancing crowded around her and she literally shoved them asside in a swimming motion and then hammed it up. It was HILARIOUS> Patrick was more concerned with the mechanicals and getting the steps just right, Riley was mackin' for the crowd. Here are some shots:
Dark I know but that IS Patrick. I regret that I forgot my camera battery and Grandpa did not have a zoom but there he is dancing like he does.

That is also Patrick up front in his Thing 1 Shirt. The adults were there too:

Me & Granny My Mom, Nana, and later Hal got a crazy picture of me wearing the ONLY thing I could throw on over the sutures - a tankini top and a bathing uit cover up that looked like a sun dress, OY!  BUT seriously we were in the BACK ROW at the dance recital and the place was PACKED solid! Seriously!

Later that day I caught Riley singing "She's The One" from A Chorus Line. Except she was changing the words. Try to remember the tune and here is what she sang, "One, morning you get brekfast, and you cant forget the rest. For my mom is second best to none - do I have a your attention, do I really have to mention, SHE's MY MOM!" Aw......

While Granny and Capa were helping take care of the wee ones Patrick also played on a slip and slide down the street - check it out:

What a Hot Rod, huh?

He and Riley have REALLY enjoyed having Granny and Capa here! Riley getting some swings from Granny while Mommy napped - which is where I am headed RIGHT NOW. I am now at the weening myself off the narcotics phase - I am only taking the stuff every 6 hours and by the end I am FEELING it.  I am also freaking STARVING. The whole dang family ate at Chipotle (Loved their quesadillas once) and I sat there with my little Activia Vanilla Yogurt feeling VERY deprived. :( It will pass, and eventually I can have some of that stuff (the chicken and veggies anyway) again but still. I MISS eating. It has been TWO WEEKS! My Mother In Law asked if I just did not feel hungry now that I had no stomach - uh no. I still have all my stomach they cut nothing, I am as hungry as anyone who has not eaten would be, BUT I am trying to be kind to my healing stomach.

Having them here has been wonderful for the kids though...enabling us to have a REAL summer week of activity and knowing that I was not alone really helped Harry. How we will do next week now without them I am not so sure....yikes! The kids do not want them to go. Patrick has started hiding my Father-in-Laws clothes so he cant pack! HA! That'll show 'em!

Here I am the day of surgery. It was yesterday by the way. They told me to expect today to be a far worse day for healing. SO far not so at all. But here is the whole account, the good, the bad, the bloody and the ugly - and the rainbow at the end.

Yesterday we got to the NWWLS surgical center in Everett by 6:50 am. We were early and I was nervous. Pain and I are NOT comrades. She is not a fan of mine and rather detest her, so pain was my big fear. Still, everyone was awesome - I did not even feel the needles (though Herprine does rather sting - hoo nelly! It thins the blood though so it must be done) the RN said, "This might burn a little" and I forgot to scream as she injected the Nappalm - ha ha ha, nah it was not that bad but it was rather funny that the song on their little sound system was "Highway To The Danger Zone" as she injected me with jet fuel. Lovely image, though there are worse people to sit next to before surgery than Mr. Tom Cruise, I suppose. Tom is fine by the way - no couch jumping - he behaved himself in my neurosis just fine. Thanks, Tom.

The surgery did not last long. Having just returned from Hawaii, they said think of somewhere nice, I was on Poipu Beach faster than you can say Aloha and swimming with my kids for a lovely visit. Too soon ended if you ask me. The wierd thing, if you must know, was coming out of the anesthesia I said hello to my good friend Sister Bernadette in Kenya. She lives in Kenya, but as I was groggily coming to she was right there. Turns out I spoke to her today and she told me she was praying for me actively yesterday, and I think her good faith came through. I know that sounds hokey but I get chills when I think of it, how cool is that?

Now, here is where I pull an idiot move. While they were prepping me I was nervous about the pain so you would think I would have paid EXTRA close attention to their directions. Um, no. I blew it. Harry was twittering, or emailing on his phone and he was not paying attention either. Before I knew it I was home and thought simply taking the Tylenol codeine elixir was enough - no so, dear ones. You MUST offset it with Advil for the anti inflammatory. Oops. By nighttime my pain had spiraled out of control, I was a mess. The Dr asked me if I expected to be pain free - no not so, I get it, it is gonna hurt, but should I feel like I am dying? It was out of control. Then came the gas bubble, only at the time I thought it was a heart attack.

I was pumped full of gas so that they could do the surgery laproscopically. They do try to get the gas out, but some remains inside you and since it is not in your stomach (remember for lap band they do not cut your stomach) it remains trapped in your chest and it can hurt while it is being absorbed into your system. Well, it was stuck around my diaphragm and since my pain was already out of control, you add that searing pain, the fact that I could only take shallow breaths and my heart rate plummeted to 42-45 BPM I was in distress. The Dr asked me to go to the ER to have them rule out a Pulmonary Embolism.  I freaked. "You know what that is?" yes, you are wondering if I have a clot in my lungs. "You know what that is but you cant remember to take Advil??" OK funny man. :) I am not sure he actually said that or if I just heard that in my head - but either way it was a No Duh moment.

At the ER they originally said it would take 4-6 hours. I then said the trifecta that gets you in (though I did not realize it was magic words of passage at the time) I have high Blood Pressure and take medication, I had surgery today and have chest pain and shortness of breath and my Dr sent me to you to rule out a pulmonary embolism. ZING front of the line.

Cat Scan, XRay and IV line are ordered, I am admitted, and now am crying with the words of my neighbor ringing VERY loudly in my ears. How could I be this stupid? How could I put myself in jeopardy? I feel like I am dying, by Blood Pressure is uncharacteristically LOW and my beats are in the scary range down around 42 and 45.  I panic. I start to cry - which of course makes everything worse. Harry is holding my hand telling me it is going to be alright. Poor guy. He is so scared too. He keeps asking me why they are ordering this or that test and I did not have the heart to tell him I could die from an embolism so I just tell him they are ruling it out. He is holding hope that it is gas and he was right, it was.

After all the tests, it is gas. Whew. Painful yes, but not deadly. They give me the good stuff and I am caught up on pain management thank the Lord in heaven. I get my ass on my time schedule of advil and elixir. I am gonna be fine.

Today I have walked the 'hood twice and my house several times. I go slow but I go. I must say laying down hurts more than I thought it would and I can only sleep for a few hours at a time. By tomorrow I will be SO much better I can already see the rainbow forming. I see the Dr on July 1st so that is good.

SO I hurt - the pain medicine does not make you pain free but it helps you deal and that is good. I do not like feeling out of control, either by too much pain meds (like after the IV of glory at the hospital - I say it like that because after the initial haze of fuzzy out of the world loss of control I was pain free for the first time that surgical day - but I do not understand people who choose that feeling and seek it - it is horrible to not have control of your body) or from being in so much pain you cannot think. Glad I can manage now.

Thank GOD my In Laws were here so we could leave the kids in their beds. Patrick KNEW something was wrong he cried in his sleep till we got home. Poor baby. But it is all good now!

I am having my surgery tomorrow (insert the da da da dum here....go ahead on with the maniacal laughter too I can take it!) Anyway as my babies sleep tonight and before I cook dinner for the community dinner I signed up for several months ago (in hind sight feeding 30+ people the night before my surgery is not my idea of "relaxing" but karma is good for the soul) I thought I might write down a few things I am looking forward to doing when I am thinner:

Jet Skiing - I cant wait to do this again.

Sky diving - at my size no way - but SOON my dear -soon I will jump from a perfectly good plane and see my soul rise! (Hopefully not my butt splat!)

SCUBA DIVE!!!! I still cannot believe I have never been - but by the time I could afford it I was the size of a barn so there you go.

Wear REALLY impossibly HIGH heel shoes without wabbling like a drunken barmaid- hey my hubby is over 6 feet he can handle it!

Shop at regular person stores with abandon for at least one day trying things on without fear that people are watching me assuming I am either stealing them or shopping for someone else or have a delusional mind and a split personality - the WORST is when someone says SNOOTILY (kind people I hardly ever mind), "I am sorry but you do know we do not carry YOUR size" I usually reply, "That's ok I dont shop for YOUR body"

Other must do's -

* Stop a guy as I walk down the street by just looking THAT good - no plans to do a thing (my hubby gets all that good stuff) but people do not see you when you look like Mr.Goodyear's personal human blimp

* Eat something in public without people looking at me like I should be starving quietly in a corner not ruining their serene dinner scene - EVEN BETTER leaving things on my plate with reckless abandon! Lovely.

* Stop worrying if the seat at the airport, movie theatre, Dr. Office, friend's house where we have been invited to dinner or anywhere else will be big enough for my hippo butt.

* On the same note - stop worrying when I picnic with my kids that my spot in the grass has sunken a few inches thereby embarrassing them in front of their friends. (Similarly - stop worrying that they will be teased for having the Fat mom at school)

* Wear a real bathing suit without a sarong or dress because I look respectable in it, not like a science experiment gone a wry - spandex is a cruel invention of Satan that should be stopped, y'all.

* RUN really RUN with my kids and be CHASE really CHASED by them - all day.

* Giggle with abandon and not worry that my giggling is making people think of jello commercials (or the need for continual supplies for slim fast - intravenously)

* Never again look at a flight of stairs and think "Oh Lord, please dont kill me before I reach the top" instead be thinking, what, no second flight?

I am sure I will add to this but now I must go cook, clean and prepare. See you later, gator.

The words are (with examples):

1. Shit - The bird shit on the statue.
2. Piss - I have to piss like a race horse.
3. Fuck - Fuck you.
4. Cunt - She has a nasty cunt.
5. Cocksucker - Go to hell, you cocksucker.
6. Motherfucker - You are a motherfucker.
7. Tits - Hey, nice tits.

Later, Carlin referred to three additional "auxiliary" words:

1. Fart - I farted.
2. Turd - Who dropped a turd in the urinal?
3. Twat - Shave that hairy twat.

George Carlin, dead at 71.....God must have needed some laughs.

WTF????

This is news to me, but likely not news if you read my blog. The mere fact that I keep a blog should indicate the obvious to me, but I am in fact a slow learner - can I get a NO DUH?

ANYWHO - as previously mentined, this Tuesday at 7:00 am I wil be on an operating table getting Lap Band surgery. I am not looking at it as a quick fix or a miracle or to wake up and suddenly be Farrah Faucett or better yet Brooke SHields circa 1975 or present perspectively (Brooke looks better and better - she is seriously one hottie Mommy!). No no no no - this is a tool. It should help me, sure, but I still gotta put the work in. I still gotta eat better, less and excersize more - it will help me if I let it and listen to it. I am intuitive to others, hyperly so to other's needs (even at my own expense sometimes - which is the reason for the entry title) but to my own true needs? I turn a deaf ear generally.

SO I am on a new journey of self discovery and acceptance. It is interesting that this self discovery period of "self love" is starting with buying Borg parts and joining the Collective. But hey, if you needed a heart pacer you would get it right?

A day or so ago a neighbor whom I do not know well showed up on my porch ringing the bell after nap time. I was happy to see her on her impromptu visit, tinking she might need sugar or some such completely subburban reason for her tp ring my bell unsolicited - but was taken aback when as soon as I said hello she replied "I wanted to tell you I do not think you should have this surgery. I think it is selfish of you to do anything that could take you away from your two small children when they still need you." Um...ok ....so you dont need sugar then?

I was crushed at first, then I collected myself, remembered she was not from this country and perhaps in the Phillipeans where she is from, it is completely normal for someone who hardly knows you to come and drop that kind of bomb. Seriously, knowing her, even as slightly as I do, I believe that she meant only that she was worried abou me and was scared, it is hard to be upset about that in and of itself, though I think she was inappropriate - I mean she is not my family and contrary to her implication that I had not thought this through (which is offensive in itself - I do have a brain you know) maybeshe thought I was impulsive. I suppose I can appear that way and maybe even am. So I calmly explained the difference to her between the lap band and the gastric bypass, why I chose this approach, what I had done in the past, the fact that this is encouraged by many doctors in my life at this time, not just the surgeon performing the proceedure and in the end if it is completely a failur it is reversible. Internally I was starting to freak out - was I being selfish? How could I be opting to do anything that puts me at risk to leave my children? What the hell am I thinking? All the jitters that were in the back of my mind had now been given permission to come at me full force, and that they did.

By the time my husband came hme I was crying about being a selfing, self indulgeant pig with no self control and the attention span of a gnat. I was an impulsive, entitled idiot with no reason to be trusted with important decisions. He was LIVID. I guess deep down I wanted to talk about what WAS scaring me - the surgery, the fact that I was making a commitment that would be empowered by getting sick if I indulged in the wrong foods (if I endured being sick well I would have other problems to deal with) and that by getting healthier I was actually going to be better with and for my children - all good topics - instead we talked about the Nosey Neighbor and how she had very little right to come to my house to scare me into her way of thinking.

I am also writing on a support group thread for the Lap Band. I cant make all the support groups in Everett area (hello, two small kids and have you seen the price of gas? No thanks!) and I typed in what happened wondering if anyone had a similar experience. They told me when I signed on for the urgery to be careful who I told I was having the surgery that people react in different ways and to be careful because I may not always find people supportive. I thought that was crazy - hence the splattering upon the web on this space, my email, the support group and pretty much telling everyone I know "I am getting this, isn't that great! I am working on me and really trying again!" I am excited, nervous, etc. SO I expected people to react in kind. Well, obviously, not everyone does.

On the thread a woman wrote me a very pointed response that will stay with me forever. I was very upset at it at first and have been chewing onit since - mostly because it was so direct (we Irish Catholics like our messages garbled a little - we talk a big game about being direct and honest but seriously, sugar it a bit because we get prickly - or at least I certainly do) and she was TOTALLY direct. She said I had a problem with boundaries - that as an addict (which I am - hello, hot buttered bread would you like to french kiss for an hour and stay on my theighs forever? Thought so) I mean we all have our demons, mine are just something that are legal and available at your local minimart and supermarket and must be purchased or taken daily anyway - I just OVER DO IT - why? Boundaries. She was SO right, and it hit me HARD. She said by tlking so freely to others I must have given them the impression that their oppinion was up for discussion and even encouraged - in other words I gave her permission to disrespect me because I had so little respect for myself (or I would not have such boundary issues in the first place with food or other things). Ah so.

When she came over, instead of saying, "I am sorry, my health is not up for discussion - my decisions are my family's business alone" and closing the door - I indulged her theory of entitlement by explaining myself thereby furthering her ability to feel able to inject her opinions into my life and my family's business. I guess I do that a lot. It is not that I o it intentionally - I do not set out to do this, but I hate rudeness. Cant abide it, and to have said what this well intending suport grouper suggested and close the door on my nosey neighbor would to me have been excruciatingly rude.

That said, the idea that I have issues with boundaires and lack of self respect really hit home. My initial gut reaction was to write my would be supporter a thing or two about boundaires and where to stick her so called advice, but I instead chewed on her dish for awhile and saw she was right as much as I did not like the bitterness of her cooking style. Holy cow. In not respecting myself, I have allowed food to control how I deal with emotions, I have allowed people to walk on me and I have allowed my children to see their Mom weaker than I ever intended to be. Well that SUCKS ASS.

SO - Obviously I am setting forth now not just on joining the Collective and attaining a new Borg part to help assist my journey with control over food - I will also be needing some help with seeking control over myself - my self respect and my ability to not allow others the entitlement to walk on me - of course with the finesse of not also being rude. Because, I cannot abide rude. It is vulgar in a way that I cannot indulge - which is saying something since I allowed quite a bit of indugeance in my world (obviously).

So, as I try this on, as I struggle with it, who knows where I will end up. What a trip. 

World, this is my son Patrick. Be kind to him, he falls a lot and is sometimes a little crazy. God, grant me some strength to handle the years ahead more gracefully than the bloody mess that was this afternoon.

Today, I needed to go get my TB test read at my Dr office. It was one of many hoops to jump before my surgery this Tuesday. I knew it would be negative, I tried calling and telling them, but alas no one listens to me...I am just a housewife afterall! SO I get the kids started getting ready to get in the car and drive up the plateau to hand some RN tell me what I know but then it is definitive and I get a piece of paper to prove it and whoo hoo all is right with the world.

Patrick is bored today - as I stated we decided (and by we I mean ME, I decided) to take a mental health day and stay home. He is going crazy and runs from the back door to the front for independence.  I tell him to slow down and I will be right there and I swear I FEEL him roll his eyes at me as he tears through the yard. Now I am going to Riley to get her dressed when I hear it. Mommies you know that cry - it is the "SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG WITH MY BABY" cry and it is magnetic - pulling me outside. I have my cell phone and keys in one hand, Riley in the other and when I turn off my porch there is my boy SCREAMING and bloody. Blood is coming out of his head so fast that his hair is being flipped up. I drop the keys and phone and put Riley down and yank up my shirt instinctively to block the blood which is now down his face, in his mouth, on his clothes, the ground - it is everywhere. I do not know how big the wound is but there is SO much blood. I feel it spurting against my tee shirt and hand. I drag Patrick down with me to help calm him and in that motion realize I am now too far away from my phone.

Riley is shocked, scared and panicked. I talk as calmly as I can to keep her with me, "Riley, see my red phone? Please give it to me, ok?" and she does so and I call 911. Now, looking back, that was an "oh shit" move. I am WAY more calm when it is someone elses kid - but I can tell you no amount of training prepares you for dealing with two toddlers in the street in shock in a bloody mess - you go on gut and I could not remove the tee shirt to look because when I did the blood spurted again and Patrick was freaking out.

The paramedics get here and we must have looked like a sight from a movie! Child on my lap, strewn on his back, bloody, screaming and flailing; my shirt hiked up because it was the pnly thing I had handy to help stop the bleeding so while my shoulders are covered I am sure my bra is there for the world to see; and a two year old who has run into the house, found her pacifier to help sooth herself, in her jammies, setting off the car alarm with my keys because it is keeping her busy and nearby. When they asked me my name I almost just said, "Clampit - the trailor's out back, y'all" but I thought better of it.

Well I did the right thing, I controlled the bleeding and even though I am pretty sure had I had another adult around I would have been able to assess better, the paramedics were so lovely to him. Cleaned us up and gave me good advice on head wounds. Then we went to the Dr where Patrick would have gotten stitches (it was not a long laceration but very deep) but we decided while he might still bleed a little steri strips would cause less pain, may leave a smaller scar and still do the trick. My baby only cried at the glue. What a brave one!

Here is what I was told to look for in a head wound in a toddler:

1. Any loss of consciousness = call 911 and go to the hospital

2. The main fear of a concussion is internal bleeding and swelling in the brain. SO acting out of character, equilibrium off, severe headache, vomiting more than once, nose or ear bleeds, etc. = 911 and go to the hospital

3. The head, because it is so vascular, will bleed deep and red and fast - which is scary for sure, but is a natural way to clean a wound and help prevent infection - so that is good. But because it can bleed so fast, look for change of coloring, use a clean/dry cloth and pressure immediately to stop the bleeding and DO NOT remove it to check and see if the bleeding has stopped. It is interesting that certain areas on the head do not swell as fast as you think they might - the face will swell fast, but the forehead might not. That does not necessarily mean that there is no damage - but do not push around yourself looking for it - let the Dr do that in case of broken bones or slivers of bones.

4. As with any head wound, if your child sleeps (like a normal nap time or bedtime) you should wake them and make sure that they know who you are from time to time just to make sure that there is no concussion.

I am not a doctor these are just the tips I learned today in my haze of blood covered Mommydome. Well, this and Ketchup is a moral imperative when your kid has been poked/prodded and sealed up by paramedics and doctors and you make their favorite chicken fingers and marinara pasta for dinner! Thanks to my friend and neighbor, Mary, my babysitter's Mommy who has teenagers and understand how horrible I felt when I said all I had was BBQ sauce because I did not go to the store because hello we were getting stitches and such and that errand slipped my mind. She handed us the biggest bottle of ketchup Patrick has ever seen and is now his hero - the ketchup lady.

Harry showed me this skit when we came home from the Iron Man movie and it still cracks me up. It is NOT ok to watch with the kiddies unless you want some explaining to do - but if you want to have a chuckle sit back and get ready -

Listen to this: If it comes through it is Iz (Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's version of Somewhere Over The Rainbow - hands down my favorite version of the song)

Sadly, Iz is no longer with us, but his song will forever be the soundtrack of my trip - and here is THE pictures Harry took while we were flying on The Wings Over Kauai tour that just brings it home that I meant to include in my book long entry below: Can you see the rainbow? How perfect is that?