Orthodontics. The very word strikes anxiety in my heart and brings back childhood memories I'd rather repress. :0 That being said it, although I loathe any and all dental work (but suck it up for the greater good), I currently and previously have had excellent, kind dental providers. So, I wasn't *traumatized* by having braces, and am extremely grateful to have straight teeth today, but all things being equal, I really wish God would change our DNA such that no dental work beyond regular cleanings was ever necessary. I really don't think this is that much to ask. 😇
Our Henry has been in for orthodontic consults annually for several years now, so we knew that this day was coming. He's 11, has all of his adult teeth, and he needs braces. For his sake, I wish that he didn't, but this is a fact of life for many children. No big deal, I figured. He won't stick out or anything, over half the school has braces from grades 6-8. At the forefront of my mind was how we would budget for it, and that was pretty much it.
Well. Then I accompanied Mike and Henry to the orthodontist yesterday wherein Henry had x-rays, and we sat down to seriously look at what needs to be done for him and discuss a timeline. And I just...
You know how sometimes, with your kids, something just strikes you in a soft spot and you can hardly control the urge to just burst into tears right then and there? I had that moment yesterday. At the orthodontist. Looking at ceramic teeth.
I am so averse to all dental work. Like I said, I do it because it's the right thing to do, but I HATE it. I swear, I'd rather go through labor and delivery. :0 There's something about it that makes me so fearful. But with my kids, it hasn't been a big deal because all they've had so far is just cleanings. And our dentist is sweet and wonderful.
But this braces thing? Henry needs his jaw moved forward. Which means he doesn't just need braces to straighten the teeth. He also needs something to move his jaw forward to correct his overbite. And that's a little bit more involved. There are 2 possible ways of doing it, and I'm not wild about either one. The first one is a retainer, which sounds easy, but it's a 24/7 retainer and will impact speech. My Henry already struggles a bit with speech issues, and the thought of burdening him with all of this extra plastic in his mouth made me want to weep anew. The other option is a device that attaches at the sides of the mouth to the braces. On the upside, you can't see it, and it won't impact his speech, but on the negative end of things it doesn't look terribly comfortable, and it will impact your ability to open your mouth very wide. Cue the sobbing.
I don't want him to have to go through this. Maybe he can just have crooked teeth? I'll be honest, that seems like a very rational possibility to me right now.
*Insert about a thousand weeping emojis here*
I feel all vulnerable and on the verge of clutching Henry to my chest and not letting him leave the house. And he's 11, he would hate that. :0
Are any of you scarred by the threat of orthodontics or is it just me? ;-)
Tomorrow is book club day for Chapter 5 of Live Today Well. And Tea Time this week will be an amusing dance troupe edition!
Showing posts with label dental work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dental work. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Teeth & confession updates (oh joy) and Divine Mercy novena!
Hello! Happy Holy Thursday. :) I have to work the evening reference shift tonight, which I'm bummed about because it means that I can't attend Mass, but I'm persevering. It's going to be a LONG day to be sure.
However, it *is* the beginning of the Triduum, and I'm terribly excited. If the reference desk isn't busy, I may try and stream EWTN coverage of the pope's Mass or something, we'll see. :) And lots of good news to share! Let's see...
*settles in with tea*
Well, first, in secular news, I had one of two periodontal followups to check on my post-operative state. It went well. The tissue graft is looking awesome apparently, although I have to wait another 2 weeks to have any stitches that don't dissolve on their own clipped off. The roof of my mouth, however, is "looking sore," which I of course already knew, since it had been hurting like a *%$! :0 This roof wound was definitely tougher this time around. It is, though, healing, and yesterday for the first time I didn't wake up with it already bothering me and needing to take some ibuprofen. Today as well. I can feel definite improvement. They prescribed this special mouth rinse that will help the wound to heal faster. My honey is picking that up for me today, God bless him. I go back in 2 weeks, but I'm on the mend. The exterior bruising is also nearly completely faded.
So, that's that. After I finished with my appointment, I sped right over to confession. I could tell right away that my chances were good upon entering the church, because only a few other ladies were there. They were all waiting in a line, so I stepped behind them. We didn't move for a few minutes. I suddenly noticed a green light on above a confessional on the other side of the church. The lady ahead of me turns around:
"There's a confessional open over there. It's *just the screen* though."
She said that like it was a bad thing. :0 I much prefer using the screen rather than face-to-face, which is what they were all waiting for. I thanked her and hurried over, in and out of my screened confessional in a few minutes. I prayed for a spell and then got up to go. Those other ladies still hadn't moved. :0 That's the line I was in yesterday that didn't move. Must be a very detailed priest.
Pleased, I hustled out to my car so that I could drop off my prescription before going home for dinner, and I made it in plenty of time. Whew!
Before I go, I wanted to mention the next novena from Pray More Novenas.
I am *super* excited. I prayed this novena last year, and loved it. And this year it is leading up to the canonizations of John Paul II and John XXIII! What a beautiful day that will be. As you know, John Paul II is a personal and much beloved favorite of mine. So I will begin praying along tomorrow. If you sign up with Pray More Novenas, you will receive an email each morning with the prayers, and it is extremely convenient. I also like knowing that I'm praying along with others worldwide.
So, join in! All right everyone, back to work for me. I won't be blogging Good Friday or Easter Monday, but I will return to you Tuesday of the First Week of Easter bright eyed and ready to relay my Easter adventures. Until then!
However, it *is* the beginning of the Triduum, and I'm terribly excited. If the reference desk isn't busy, I may try and stream EWTN coverage of the pope's Mass or something, we'll see. :) And lots of good news to share! Let's see...
*settles in with tea*
Well, first, in secular news, I had one of two periodontal followups to check on my post-operative state. It went well. The tissue graft is looking awesome apparently, although I have to wait another 2 weeks to have any stitches that don't dissolve on their own clipped off. The roof of my mouth, however, is "looking sore," which I of course already knew, since it had been hurting like a *%$! :0 This roof wound was definitely tougher this time around. It is, though, healing, and yesterday for the first time I didn't wake up with it already bothering me and needing to take some ibuprofen. Today as well. I can feel definite improvement. They prescribed this special mouth rinse that will help the wound to heal faster. My honey is picking that up for me today, God bless him. I go back in 2 weeks, but I'm on the mend. The exterior bruising is also nearly completely faded.
So, that's that. After I finished with my appointment, I sped right over to confession. I could tell right away that my chances were good upon entering the church, because only a few other ladies were there. They were all waiting in a line, so I stepped behind them. We didn't move for a few minutes. I suddenly noticed a green light on above a confessional on the other side of the church. The lady ahead of me turns around:
"There's a confessional open over there. It's *just the screen* though."
She said that like it was a bad thing. :0 I much prefer using the screen rather than face-to-face, which is what they were all waiting for. I thanked her and hurried over, in and out of my screened confessional in a few minutes. I prayed for a spell and then got up to go. Those other ladies still hadn't moved. :0 That's the line I was in yesterday that didn't move. Must be a very detailed priest.
Pleased, I hustled out to my car so that I could drop off my prescription before going home for dinner, and I made it in plenty of time. Whew!
Before I go, I wanted to mention the next novena from Pray More Novenas.
I am *super* excited. I prayed this novena last year, and loved it. And this year it is leading up to the canonizations of John Paul II and John XXIII! What a beautiful day that will be. As you know, John Paul II is a personal and much beloved favorite of mine. So I will begin praying along tomorrow. If you sign up with Pray More Novenas, you will receive an email each morning with the prayers, and it is extremely convenient. I also like knowing that I'm praying along with others worldwide.
So, join in! All right everyone, back to work for me. I won't be blogging Good Friday or Easter Monday, but I will return to you Tuesday of the First Week of Easter bright eyed and ready to relay my Easter adventures. Until then!
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Adventures in Periodontology, take 2...
Hello all! Reporting in from the sick bay. :) I'm doing very well though. Much better than last time. There's certainly something to be said for having experience.
Yesterday, I didn't freak out or take Vallium, both of which I did last time. :0 I arrived at the office in a good mood, and chatted chirpily with the dental assistant while she got me ready. Soon, the periodontist was at my service, and we were underway. Since I didn't have the relaxant this time, I was much more aware of everything he was doing. Translation: when you're a squeamish person, this isn't such a good thing. :0
Tiffany's Thought Bubble:
"What's that he has? Oh. OH. That looks sharp. Oh yuck, there's blood on his gloves. I think something just fell from the roof of my mouth? Oh. Oh God."
I will say that it passed the time quickly. :0
Pretty soon, he was stitching me up, but my Novocaine was beginning to wear off. This happened to me last time too, but last time I was loopy so I didn't care. He had already been stitching for some time, and it was only 2 teeth. How long much longer could it take? I'm tough, I told myself, I can take it. I'll just stay real, real still.
Well, see, this is what happens when you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. *gentle snort* Eventually, I made some sort of involuntary whimpering noise, and the doctor was horrified that I was in pain and he didn't realize it. He's just the nicest person, I tell you. Several more shots of Novocaine later, I was feeling fantastic and the stitching continued. Soon, I was all done and on my way.
I could tell right away that I was swollen, but what's a girl to do? It looks rather amusing because it's only on one half of my jaw this time, the other half is totally normal, lol. But I was fastidious with my ice, applying in 10 minute intervals throughout the day. And as of this morning, my face doesn't look nearly so "punched!" as last time. There's obviously a little swelling there, but I've mitigated it nicely. The jury is still out on bruising. Last time, I didn't develop that until the third day, so I suppose we'll see where we're at tomorrow. I've been applying my emu oil lotion, which is a natural anti-inflammatory, so here's hopin'!
The only other thing different this time is the wound on the top of my mouth, where the grafting tissue came from. Instead of being closer to the center of my mouth, it's way back behind my upper teeth, and it's deeper. (aren't you so glad you read this blog, for disgusting details just such as these?!) The dental assistant put what she called a "dressing" on it, which turned out to be a putty-like substance, to cover the wound and protect it. Well.
For one thing, it tasted terrible. *wrinkles nose* And secondly, I'm a bit of a, um...bad patient. I instantly hated the dressing and wanted it gone. It was lifting off at the corners and feeling all gooey, GROSS! I was instructed to eat soft foods on the other side of my mouth only. With such an instruction, who in their right mind would think it's a good idea to eat QUINOA for lunch?
Yes, your resident spacey librarian.
I slip a bit carefully into the right side of my mouth. As is so often the case, my mind immediately wanders, and next thing I know, tiny grains of quinoa are spread throughout my mouth, including stuck right into that slimy dressing. *gags* I tried to remedy the situation as best I could, but soon the dressing was totally dislodged and covering my teeth rather than the wound. Let's just say the removal was quite unpleasant.
*faints*
That was the only hiccup. The wound is fine this morning, and is already starting to heal.
I've been taking it easy, but being as active as I can be. I'm off from work until Monday. If I'm feeling up to it, I plan to go to dance class tomorrow. Don't yell at me, I can't help it! I told you, I"m a bad patient. :)
Ok all, off to swish more warm salt water. I doubt I'll blog tomorrow. Mike and I are planning to take Anne out for lunch and go for a walk in one of our favorite neighborhoods in this area. It should be lovely, and so I don't know that I'll be online much. Aside from to send out some ridiculous Tweets periodically throughout the day. ;-)
Rest assured, I'll be back Monday! I'll update you on my condition :), and likely on some dance stuff. Since I have new skirts. And they are FABULOUS! Talk to you then!
Yesterday, I didn't freak out or take Vallium, both of which I did last time. :0 I arrived at the office in a good mood, and chatted chirpily with the dental assistant while she got me ready. Soon, the periodontist was at my service, and we were underway. Since I didn't have the relaxant this time, I was much more aware of everything he was doing. Translation: when you're a squeamish person, this isn't such a good thing. :0
Tiffany's Thought Bubble:
"What's that he has? Oh. OH. That looks sharp. Oh yuck, there's blood on his gloves. I think something just fell from the roof of my mouth? Oh. Oh God."
I will say that it passed the time quickly. :0
Pretty soon, he was stitching me up, but my Novocaine was beginning to wear off. This happened to me last time too, but last time I was loopy so I didn't care. He had already been stitching for some time, and it was only 2 teeth. How long much longer could it take? I'm tough, I told myself, I can take it. I'll just stay real, real still.
Well, see, this is what happens when you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. *gentle snort* Eventually, I made some sort of involuntary whimpering noise, and the doctor was horrified that I was in pain and he didn't realize it. He's just the nicest person, I tell you. Several more shots of Novocaine later, I was feeling fantastic and the stitching continued. Soon, I was all done and on my way.
I could tell right away that I was swollen, but what's a girl to do? It looks rather amusing because it's only on one half of my jaw this time, the other half is totally normal, lol. But I was fastidious with my ice, applying in 10 minute intervals throughout the day. And as of this morning, my face doesn't look nearly so "punched!" as last time. There's obviously a little swelling there, but I've mitigated it nicely. The jury is still out on bruising. Last time, I didn't develop that until the third day, so I suppose we'll see where we're at tomorrow. I've been applying my emu oil lotion, which is a natural anti-inflammatory, so here's hopin'!
The only other thing different this time is the wound on the top of my mouth, where the grafting tissue came from. Instead of being closer to the center of my mouth, it's way back behind my upper teeth, and it's deeper. (aren't you so glad you read this blog, for disgusting details just such as these?!) The dental assistant put what she called a "dressing" on it, which turned out to be a putty-like substance, to cover the wound and protect it. Well.
For one thing, it tasted terrible. *wrinkles nose* And secondly, I'm a bit of a, um...bad patient. I instantly hated the dressing and wanted it gone. It was lifting off at the corners and feeling all gooey, GROSS! I was instructed to eat soft foods on the other side of my mouth only. With such an instruction, who in their right mind would think it's a good idea to eat QUINOA for lunch?
Yes, your resident spacey librarian.
I slip a bit carefully into the right side of my mouth. As is so often the case, my mind immediately wanders, and next thing I know, tiny grains of quinoa are spread throughout my mouth, including stuck right into that slimy dressing. *gags* I tried to remedy the situation as best I could, but soon the dressing was totally dislodged and covering my teeth rather than the wound. Let's just say the removal was quite unpleasant.
*faints*
That was the only hiccup. The wound is fine this morning, and is already starting to heal.
I've been taking it easy, but being as active as I can be. I'm off from work until Monday. If I'm feeling up to it, I plan to go to dance class tomorrow. Don't yell at me, I can't help it! I told you, I"m a bad patient. :)
Ok all, off to swish more warm salt water. I doubt I'll blog tomorrow. Mike and I are planning to take Anne out for lunch and go for a walk in one of our favorite neighborhoods in this area. It should be lovely, and so I don't know that I'll be online much. Aside from to send out some ridiculous Tweets periodically throughout the day. ;-)
Rest assured, I'll be back Monday! I'll update you on my condition :), and likely on some dance stuff. Since I have new skirts. And they are FABULOUS! Talk to you then!
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
A Catholic Librarian weekend of hookah, potty training, and visits to the periodontist...
Aren't you all just simmering with excitement. :0
Lots happening, let's see...I suppose we should just start with Friday:
My face continues to heal, but it is still bruised even today, so you can imagine that on Friday it looked even less good, if that makes any sense. I was determined, however, to have a night in which I felt normal again. Prior to dance class, I applied makeup for the first time all week, slathering on the concealer and carefully straightening my hair. I thought I looked pretty decent. :0 I arrive at class, and:
"Oh my gosh, ARE YOU OK?! You look so different!!"
Let's just say I've been feeling pretty self-conscious about the whole thing. I know it isn't permanent, but looking different than you usually do is tough psychologically, you know? I'm so impatient about healing processes. A day is fine, but after that I want to be back to my normal self. :0 I probably still have a week or two to go before the bruising is totally faded, so I'm steeling myself for the long haul.
At any rate, Friday night after class I went with a few dance friends to a local hookah lounge to see one of our troupemates perform. Happily, it was dimly lit, so I wasn't too worried about my face. :0 I had never been to a hookah lounge before. I'm not a smoker, so the intensity of the smokey environment isn't really my thing, but it really wasn't that bad. It was pretty low key, the owner and other employees were very respectful of the belly dancer. I had fun, although I do so hate being places in which the music is so loud you can't talk to/hear your table companions. #signofaging?
Too depressing to contemplate.
Anyway, it doesn't matter how many times I've seen someone dance, I ALWAYS love to watch them again and again. Everyone brings something unique to each performance and each interpretation of a song. I love dance. It's a real lovefest.
Saturday, our potty training adventures with Anne continued. It appears that our potty training experience with her goes as follows:
Day 1 - Anne = 1, Potty Pushing Parents = 4. There is much rejoicing.
Day 2 - Anne = Too Many to Count, Potty Pushing Parents = Totally Defeated.
Day 3 - Anne = 3, Exhausted Parents = 3. It's neck and neck.
Day 4 - Anne =5, Parents Losing All Hope in a Joyful Tomorrow = 1.
This morning, however, I get a phone call at work. I answer.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mommy."
The kid can now have full phone conversations? I wish she would stop growing up so fast!!
"Hi Anne. How are you, Sweetie?"
"I am good. Guess what, Mommy?"
"What?"
"I went poo!"
It's a true sign that you're a parent when you get excited about bowel movements and talk about them on your blog.
"Did you go poo *in the potty*?!"
"Yes, Mommy!!!"
"GOOD GIRL!! I'm so proud of you. Mommy will bring you home a treat!"
"*happy giggle* I have my green ball, Mommy."
*rest of the conversation is a bit odd* You know how that goes. ;)
So, today may be a good day. Tomorrow may make us lose our will to live. We will have to see.
So that's the potty news. In periodontal news, I went for a post op followup yesterday. My periodontist is just the sweetest person. He saw me and I could see a pained look of chagrin cross his features.
"Oh, I really got you good, didn't I? I'm sorry!"
A periodontist who apologizes? This guy is a keeper.
He looked in my mouth and declared that I am doing excellent, that the healing is going smashingly. I have to leave the lower sutures in until next Monday (which is a drag, they're really loose and bothering my poor beleaguered tongue) but everything looks great. I go back in a week for the final suture removal.
And so, that is that. I'm hoping that next week my bruising will be almost gone. I've been a woman on a mission, trying to look up natural foods and creams that cause bruises to heal faster.
*Mike comes home* *sniffs the air suspiciously*
"Honey, did you make...a really big salad?"
"Why?! Does it smell like vinegar in here?!"
"Well yeah."
"No."
*does not elaborate, due to bizareness of concoction*
We'll get there. :)
Tune in tomorrow for January's edition of the Catholic Book Club! We'll be discussing Walking with Mary, by Edward Sri.
How was everyone's weekend? Leave me a comment!
Lots happening, let's see...I suppose we should just start with Friday:
My face continues to heal, but it is still bruised even today, so you can imagine that on Friday it looked even less good, if that makes any sense. I was determined, however, to have a night in which I felt normal again. Prior to dance class, I applied makeup for the first time all week, slathering on the concealer and carefully straightening my hair. I thought I looked pretty decent. :0 I arrive at class, and:
"Oh my gosh, ARE YOU OK?! You look so different!!"
Let's just say I've been feeling pretty self-conscious about the whole thing. I know it isn't permanent, but looking different than you usually do is tough psychologically, you know? I'm so impatient about healing processes. A day is fine, but after that I want to be back to my normal self. :0 I probably still have a week or two to go before the bruising is totally faded, so I'm steeling myself for the long haul.
At any rate, Friday night after class I went with a few dance friends to a local hookah lounge to see one of our troupemates perform. Happily, it was dimly lit, so I wasn't too worried about my face. :0 I had never been to a hookah lounge before. I'm not a smoker, so the intensity of the smokey environment isn't really my thing, but it really wasn't that bad. It was pretty low key, the owner and other employees were very respectful of the belly dancer. I had fun, although I do so hate being places in which the music is so loud you can't talk to/hear your table companions. #signofaging?
Too depressing to contemplate.
Anyway, it doesn't matter how many times I've seen someone dance, I ALWAYS love to watch them again and again. Everyone brings something unique to each performance and each interpretation of a song. I love dance. It's a real lovefest.
Saturday, our potty training adventures with Anne continued. It appears that our potty training experience with her goes as follows:
Day 1 - Anne = 1, Potty Pushing Parents = 4. There is much rejoicing.
Day 2 - Anne = Too Many to Count, Potty Pushing Parents = Totally Defeated.
Day 3 - Anne = 3, Exhausted Parents = 3. It's neck and neck.
Day 4 - Anne =5, Parents Losing All Hope in a Joyful Tomorrow = 1.
This morning, however, I get a phone call at work. I answer.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mommy."
The kid can now have full phone conversations? I wish she would stop growing up so fast!!
"Hi Anne. How are you, Sweetie?"
"I am good. Guess what, Mommy?"
"What?"
"I went poo!"
It's a true sign that you're a parent when you get excited about bowel movements and talk about them on your blog.
"Did you go poo *in the potty*?!"
"Yes, Mommy!!!"
"GOOD GIRL!! I'm so proud of you. Mommy will bring you home a treat!"
"*happy giggle* I have my green ball, Mommy."
*rest of the conversation is a bit odd* You know how that goes. ;)
So, today may be a good day. Tomorrow may make us lose our will to live. We will have to see.
So that's the potty news. In periodontal news, I went for a post op followup yesterday. My periodontist is just the sweetest person. He saw me and I could see a pained look of chagrin cross his features.
"Oh, I really got you good, didn't I? I'm sorry!"
A periodontist who apologizes? This guy is a keeper.
He looked in my mouth and declared that I am doing excellent, that the healing is going smashingly. I have to leave the lower sutures in until next Monday (which is a drag, they're really loose and bothering my poor beleaguered tongue) but everything looks great. I go back in a week for the final suture removal.
And so, that is that. I'm hoping that next week my bruising will be almost gone. I've been a woman on a mission, trying to look up natural foods and creams that cause bruises to heal faster.
*Mike comes home* *sniffs the air suspiciously*
"Honey, did you make...a really big salad?"
"Why?! Does it smell like vinegar in here?!"
"Well yeah."
"No."
*does not elaborate, due to bizareness of concoction*
We'll get there. :)
Tune in tomorrow for January's edition of the Catholic Book Club! We'll be discussing Walking with Mary, by Edward Sri.
How was everyone's weekend? Leave me a comment!
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Reporting in from the infirmary, and some thoughts on prayer and consecration...
Well, we now have 2 diminished family members, and only 2 healthy ones. :0 Henry came home from school yesterday with chills and a fever. The poor babe ended up in bed for the rest of the day. He's home from school sick today, though he is definitely much improved over yesterday. I've been nurturing him by baking (or at least attempting to, please don't inquire about the finished products :0) and trying to feed him. He is not complaining.
As for me, I'm still sore, but healing well. My jaw has gone from swollen to bruised pretty quickly, so the "bar brawl" look is going to be lingering for some time. :-\ I'd actually rather have the bruising over the swelling though, truth be told. Swelling rather distorts your face, making you a stranger to yourself. With bruising, I look like me, just with bruises. :) We're getting there. I'm still working on making "punched!" seem like a cute new look. (I just tried to take a photo of myself to show off my bruises, and let's just say that didn't go so well. *hits delete button on camera*)
Other than that, I've just been doing things around the house and tending to the kids. Not very exciting, but the time has been quite nice, since it's so different from my usual office routine. Each day I have been reading from Totus Tuus: A Consecration to Jesus Through Mary With Blessed John Paul II, and it has been wonderful. It's a 33 day process, and my consecration day is set for February 11th, the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes.
A Marian consecration following the formula of St. Louis de Montfort (of which Totus Tuus is one of many) can be started on any number of dates throughout the year, all scheduled to synch up with a Marian feast day. I like this January/February timeline since it's a cozy time of being inside, leaving lots of quiet time for reflection. Last year, February 11th, the date I finished my consecration for 2013, was the date Pope Benedict XVI announced his intention to step down from the papacy, a big day! I was so glad that I had been in a formal time of prayer leading up to that. One of the words that I keep writing in my journal is "silence." Winter is a time of silence to me. Reflection while the world and nature are sleeping.
All right, Henry is on his third episode of "G.I. Joe", which means it's time for me remember that I'm a mother and wrap this up. I'll be back tomorrow for 7 Quick Takes Friday. I hope that you all have a lovely Thursday evening!
As for me, I'm still sore, but healing well. My jaw has gone from swollen to bruised pretty quickly, so the "bar brawl" look is going to be lingering for some time. :-\ I'd actually rather have the bruising over the swelling though, truth be told. Swelling rather distorts your face, making you a stranger to yourself. With bruising, I look like me, just with bruises. :) We're getting there. I'm still working on making "punched!" seem like a cute new look. (I just tried to take a photo of myself to show off my bruises, and let's just say that didn't go so well. *hits delete button on camera*)
Other than that, I've just been doing things around the house and tending to the kids. Not very exciting, but the time has been quite nice, since it's so different from my usual office routine. Each day I have been reading from Totus Tuus: A Consecration to Jesus Through Mary With Blessed John Paul II, and it has been wonderful. It's a 33 day process, and my consecration day is set for February 11th, the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes.
A Marian consecration following the formula of St. Louis de Montfort (of which Totus Tuus is one of many) can be started on any number of dates throughout the year, all scheduled to synch up with a Marian feast day. I like this January/February timeline since it's a cozy time of being inside, leaving lots of quiet time for reflection. Last year, February 11th, the date I finished my consecration for 2013, was the date Pope Benedict XVI announced his intention to step down from the papacy, a big day! I was so glad that I had been in a formal time of prayer leading up to that. One of the words that I keep writing in my journal is "silence." Winter is a time of silence to me. Reflection while the world and nature are sleeping.
All right, Henry is on his third episode of "G.I. Joe", which means it's time for me remember that I'm a mother and wrap this up. I'll be back tomorrow for 7 Quick Takes Friday. I hope that you all have a lovely Thursday evening!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
This post is about nothing, truly.
Aren't you so glad you subscribe to this blog for uplifting titles such as this one. ;-)
Just checking in! I have zero ideas for this post (very unlike me :)) I just figured I'd post an update for how things are going here on the home front. My swelling has gone down a bit overall, but my lower jaw is still very much swollen. Also, in the 30 minutes I wasn't examining my gums in the mirror this morning, bruising started to develop on my chin.
Oh goody.
SO glad that I took the whole week off from work. Taking off more than 3 consecutive sick days triggers this horrific FMLA train at work, even when you have paid time accrued (don't get me started, the whole thing makes me SO mad) but I'm glad that I tackled the paperwork beast so that I don't have to go to work looking like someone punched me in the face.
Thank goodness for small favors. :0
The inside of my mouth is healing. I will spare you the details, but on a Disgusting Scale of 1-10, with 10 being "hideous and frightening" and 1 being "a choir of angels sing, you look so good", my lower gums are now around a 4. That's down from a solid 7-8, so things are looking up. :)
It's been nice being home. Anne is loving having me home and I'm enjoying lots of nice errand running with her and Mike while Henry is at school. I've been happily reading the daily readings and prayers from Totus Tuus for my Marian consecration next month, as well as keeping up with the Magnificat prayers, knitting and tweeting. :) It's been lovely.
I'm hoping that my swelling will be down enough for me to go to dance on Friday. I'm optimistic. I get my stitches out on Monday, which I can't wait for. Things are going great!
How are things with you all?! Leave me a comment! I would love to hear from you as I convalesce.
*beams*
Just checking in! I have zero ideas for this post (very unlike me :)) I just figured I'd post an update for how things are going here on the home front. My swelling has gone down a bit overall, but my lower jaw is still very much swollen. Also, in the 30 minutes I wasn't examining my gums in the mirror this morning, bruising started to develop on my chin.
Oh goody.
SO glad that I took the whole week off from work. Taking off more than 3 consecutive sick days triggers this horrific FMLA train at work, even when you have paid time accrued (don't get me started, the whole thing makes me SO mad) but I'm glad that I tackled the paperwork beast so that I don't have to go to work looking like someone punched me in the face.
Thank goodness for small favors. :0
The inside of my mouth is healing. I will spare you the details, but on a Disgusting Scale of 1-10, with 10 being "hideous and frightening" and 1 being "a choir of angels sing, you look so good", my lower gums are now around a 4. That's down from a solid 7-8, so things are looking up. :)
It's been nice being home. Anne is loving having me home and I'm enjoying lots of nice errand running with her and Mike while Henry is at school. I've been happily reading the daily readings and prayers from Totus Tuus for my Marian consecration next month, as well as keeping up with the Magnificat prayers, knitting and tweeting. :) It's been lovely.
I'm hoping that my swelling will be down enough for me to go to dance on Friday. I'm optimistic. I get my stitches out on Monday, which I can't wait for. Things are going great!
How are things with you all?! Leave me a comment! I would love to hear from you as I convalesce.
*beams*
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
I'm alive
;-)
It certainly feels good to be on the other side of that one. I am a complete baby when it comes to dental work, and so I rather feel like I deserve a medal for even going through with this. I thought that for the benefit of anyone who finds this post and is need of the same procedure, and for the amusement of all of us, I would chronicle my experience. Let us begin. :)
And so, now that I have actually gone through with this, I can say what I had done: a soft tissue graft.
Go ahead. Hide. After reading that hideous statement, I know you want to. Come back when your stomach feels ready. :0
Due to a lot of orthodontic work when I was a child, as an adult I developed a condition called recession of the gums in the lower front of my mouth. It was especially bad in front of my middle 3 teeth. If you leave this alone, you risk all sorts of horrifying stuff happening, including ultimately losing those teeth. Since I'm not yet 40, my teeth still have a long way to go, and my dentist encouraged me to see a periodontist (gum specialist) about what could be done.
I put this off for, oh...well over a year. Because seriously, who wants to see a *gum* specialist? NOBODY IN THEIR RIGHT MIND, that's who. But eventually, I went, albeit reluctantly.
He was nice, and let me tell you, that was his saving grace. :0 I don't have vile sounding procedures done by mean doctors, no sir. He explained that what can be done for gum recession is a grafting of tissue onto those exposed roots, usually taken from your own upper palate.
Go ahead, hide again, that's what I did.
Let's mercifully move on quickly, shall we? I can sum it up by saying that I didn't want to have this otherworldly awful thing done, but I knew that I needed it done. Sometimes, you just gotta suck it up.
So I did. Since the IV anesthesia was way out of my price range, I asked for a prescription for Vallium. I was hoping to feel nice and drunk long before Novocaine even came into play. I was instructed to take one the night before, and one an hour before the procedure. I followed the directions down to the letter.
Monday morning found me looking like I was being marched off to the guillotine. I swallowed my generic Vallium and prepared for battle. Then on my way into the office I realized that I had forgotten my iPod to listen to while the surgery was taking place and I started to cry. Starting off strong.
Mike and I arrive and I truculently filled out the necessary paperwork. I was called back and tearfully said goodbye to Mike like I may never see him again. The nurse (who is *super* nice and soothing, thankfully) peeked at my chart.
"Oh! I see that we gave you a prescription. Are you feeling nice and relaxed?"
"NO."
"Oh."
She also seemed disappointed by this development. But it was true. I felt no different than usual. Which is to say ANXIOUS. Decidedly NOT loopy and drunk. What a huge let down. :0
Next thing I knew, she was swabbing that numbing stuff onto my gums to ease the Novocaine shots. This was all moving along a bit quickly for my taste. Why move onto cutting open my mouth when we could procrastinate longer?
The doctor came in, and he was just as nice as before, darn him. I could hazily see a gigantic needle appear before my eyes and I forced my body to not move a muscle lest his hand should slip, which I somehow seemed to think was very likely. I did a good job, too. Maybe that Vallium worked after all.
Soon we were underway, me moving my pink rosary beads along in my hands as they worked. It didn't seem like that much time passed, but I was back there for an hour and a half. I saw stitches being stitched, lots of hand movement, and not much else. When they were done, I felt numb, but fine. I was given a prescription for ibuprofen for the pain and instructed to come back in a week for a followup and suture removal.
So. Was it as bad as I feared? You know me, gentle reader, I will tell you like it is:
It was not. It really wasn't bad at all. Very similar to having a tooth extracted. And given how squeamish I am about dental work, that's really saying something.
When I got home I slept. Upon waking, the numbness had worn off. My mouth felt sore, but not bad. I have been keeping up with the ibuprofen, but the soreness is really quite manageable. I can eat as well. Yesterday, it was a bit uncomfortable, but today is fine although I don't have a huge appetite. I was worried about the wound on the top of my mouth, but honestly, I can't even *feel* it. I think I have a really good periodontist. The front of my mouth is definitely in healing mode (aka: GROSS), but I'm trying not to look at it. :0 My lower lip and jaw did swell today, unfortunately, but there is no bruising. It's pretty minor swelling, so I'm hoping that it will be looking better around Thursday.
All in all, I'm glad that I had this done and I would do it again. In fact, I have to. I have one more tooth that needs grafting after these three heal. I'm going to be seeing a lot of this periodontist. Perhaps I should knit him something. :)
At any rate, I'm home and healing. I've been swilling warm salt water and Listerine like there is no tomorrow. It feels super good.
So there you have it. More dental information than you could possibly want to know. It feels good to be back. :0
It certainly feels good to be on the other side of that one. I am a complete baby when it comes to dental work, and so I rather feel like I deserve a medal for even going through with this. I thought that for the benefit of anyone who finds this post and is need of the same procedure, and for the amusement of all of us, I would chronicle my experience. Let us begin. :)
And so, now that I have actually gone through with this, I can say what I had done: a soft tissue graft.
Go ahead. Hide. After reading that hideous statement, I know you want to. Come back when your stomach feels ready. :0
Due to a lot of orthodontic work when I was a child, as an adult I developed a condition called recession of the gums in the lower front of my mouth. It was especially bad in front of my middle 3 teeth. If you leave this alone, you risk all sorts of horrifying stuff happening, including ultimately losing those teeth. Since I'm not yet 40, my teeth still have a long way to go, and my dentist encouraged me to see a periodontist (gum specialist) about what could be done.
I put this off for, oh...well over a year. Because seriously, who wants to see a *gum* specialist? NOBODY IN THEIR RIGHT MIND, that's who. But eventually, I went, albeit reluctantly.
He was nice, and let me tell you, that was his saving grace. :0 I don't have vile sounding procedures done by mean doctors, no sir. He explained that what can be done for gum recession is a grafting of tissue onto those exposed roots, usually taken from your own upper palate.
Go ahead, hide again, that's what I did.
Let's mercifully move on quickly, shall we? I can sum it up by saying that I didn't want to have this otherworldly awful thing done, but I knew that I needed it done. Sometimes, you just gotta suck it up.
So I did. Since the IV anesthesia was way out of my price range, I asked for a prescription for Vallium. I was hoping to feel nice and drunk long before Novocaine even came into play. I was instructed to take one the night before, and one an hour before the procedure. I followed the directions down to the letter.
Monday morning found me looking like I was being marched off to the guillotine. I swallowed my generic Vallium and prepared for battle. Then on my way into the office I realized that I had forgotten my iPod to listen to while the surgery was taking place and I started to cry. Starting off strong.
Mike and I arrive and I truculently filled out the necessary paperwork. I was called back and tearfully said goodbye to Mike like I may never see him again. The nurse (who is *super* nice and soothing, thankfully) peeked at my chart.
"Oh! I see that we gave you a prescription. Are you feeling nice and relaxed?"
"NO."
"Oh."
She also seemed disappointed by this development. But it was true. I felt no different than usual. Which is to say ANXIOUS. Decidedly NOT loopy and drunk. What a huge let down. :0
Next thing I knew, she was swabbing that numbing stuff onto my gums to ease the Novocaine shots. This was all moving along a bit quickly for my taste. Why move onto cutting open my mouth when we could procrastinate longer?
The doctor came in, and he was just as nice as before, darn him. I could hazily see a gigantic needle appear before my eyes and I forced my body to not move a muscle lest his hand should slip, which I somehow seemed to think was very likely. I did a good job, too. Maybe that Vallium worked after all.
Soon we were underway, me moving my pink rosary beads along in my hands as they worked. It didn't seem like that much time passed, but I was back there for an hour and a half. I saw stitches being stitched, lots of hand movement, and not much else. When they were done, I felt numb, but fine. I was given a prescription for ibuprofen for the pain and instructed to come back in a week for a followup and suture removal.
So. Was it as bad as I feared? You know me, gentle reader, I will tell you like it is:
It was not. It really wasn't bad at all. Very similar to having a tooth extracted. And given how squeamish I am about dental work, that's really saying something.
When I got home I slept. Upon waking, the numbness had worn off. My mouth felt sore, but not bad. I have been keeping up with the ibuprofen, but the soreness is really quite manageable. I can eat as well. Yesterday, it was a bit uncomfortable, but today is fine although I don't have a huge appetite. I was worried about the wound on the top of my mouth, but honestly, I can't even *feel* it. I think I have a really good periodontist. The front of my mouth is definitely in healing mode (aka: GROSS), but I'm trying not to look at it. :0 My lower lip and jaw did swell today, unfortunately, but there is no bruising. It's pretty minor swelling, so I'm hoping that it will be looking better around Thursday.
All in all, I'm glad that I had this done and I would do it again. In fact, I have to. I have one more tooth that needs grafting after these three heal. I'm going to be seeing a lot of this periodontist. Perhaps I should knit him something. :)
At any rate, I'm home and healing. I've been swilling warm salt water and Listerine like there is no tomorrow. It feels super good.
So there you have it. More dental information than you could possibly want to know. It feels good to be back. :0
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
You know it's not going to be a good day when...
you start out at the dentist. Yes, yesterday was just one of those days. I was still tornadoy from my in-laws visit, which wasn't due to end until later that afternoon (exacerbated by my well-meaning mother-in-laws innate ability to uncover hidden disorder in our house, this time, I kid you not, within our *vacuum cleaner bag* as she tried to help out by vacuuming our floors, "oh, your vacuum was FILLED with dirt. I had to empty it before I could even use it." *cries*). I had a dentist appointment at 8:30 in the morning, and Henry woke up wheezing. *sighs*
I made the decision to keep Hank home from school so that I could get him into the pediatrician. This necessitated 3 phone calls to daycare, school, and my job. Then I left Hank in the care of the in-laws so that I could run to the dentist. Always fun to start off the day with bleeding gums, you know? As soon as I got out of the dentist, I called the now open pediatrician, and got Hank an appointment for later in the morning.
His appointment went fine. His congestion was all in his nose and sinuses, rather than lungs, so that was a relief. By time we got home, it was pointless to try to go into work, so I wound up at home, anxiously playing hostess until it was time for my in-laws to depart for the airport.
I know it sounds terrible, but whenever we have guests, the instant they leave, I breathe easier. Like, I can relax again. Why am I so defective like this?
I made the decision to keep Hank home from school so that I could get him into the pediatrician. This necessitated 3 phone calls to daycare, school, and my job. Then I left Hank in the care of the in-laws so that I could run to the dentist. Always fun to start off the day with bleeding gums, you know? As soon as I got out of the dentist, I called the now open pediatrician, and got Hank an appointment for later in the morning.
His appointment went fine. His congestion was all in his nose and sinuses, rather than lungs, so that was a relief. By time we got home, it was pointless to try to go into work, so I wound up at home, anxiously playing hostess until it was time for my in-laws to depart for the airport.
I know it sounds terrible, but whenever we have guests, the instant they leave, I breathe easier. Like, I can relax again. Why am I so defective like this?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Crazy day, and family musings...
I started the day off at the dentist. That's never the way you want to start a day, no? Just a routine cleaning, but I find "going to the dentist" right up there on my list of "things I'd like to put off as long as possible."
And, to top it off, on my way there, I experienced a problem that is notorious in all cold winter weather climates - the spring/summer road construction season. UGH. It's a limited window of weather that is warm enough to accommodate such work, and thus it begins in earnest near April and goes non-stop until October, when we're all weary from detours and beaten into single lane submission. Not pleasant. As well, when I reached for my planner - where I have my dentist's phone number written down, since I feared I may be late - I realized, for at least the 4th time since yesterday late afternoon, that I left my planner at work and that such an action is a huge mistake. Sigh.
But it went fine, and my pulled wisdom tooth seems to have healed nicely. I then drove into work (on a different route) while I called my sister Shauna'h on my cell phone and insisted that she talk to and entertain me until I arrived on campus. I get lonely in the car; it brightened my day :)
While I was talking to her, I asked her about something that has been occupying my mind recently: our family geneaology. My paternal grandmother passed away just last summer; my dad's father passed away about about 13 years ago. I've been thinking about them both a lot lately. My grandfather was a Native American, a Six Nations Mohawk. Given my recent interest in crafts, I was thinking back to when I was a little girl. I remember my mom taking me once to a friend of my dad's family who introduced me to Native beading art with a loom. I loved it. I always wish that I had followed up on that. Maybe I still will, 30 years later.
My grandmother, I wasn't as sure on her lineage, so this is what I was asking Shauna'h about. I always recall her background being described as Pennsylvania German, or Pennsylvania Dutch. I'm suddenly very intrigued by this - could this explain my obsession with Amish fiction? :) I'm going to see my dad this weekend, and I'm going to ask him about it. It's entirely possible that her family was Anabaptist at some point. Both of my paternal grandparents were converts to Catholicism from a variety of mainline Protestant denominations. (Side anecdote - a number of my dad's relatives, including him and my grandparents, converted to Catholicism via a parish near us that was located on the Tuscarora Reservation - the only such parish on a Native American reservation in the entire state. My dad and grandfather both chose Bl. Kateri Tekakwitha as their patron at confirmation).
A year after my first Amish fiction post, I remain quite entranced with the Amish. And not in some "isn't it so quaint?!" kind of way. In a genuine admiration of their faith and way of life. I'm not looking to convert, granted :), as I don't agree with some of their beliefs about the sin of pride. But overall, I see them as shining beacons of Christian faith and living, and I would be honored to have that as part of my lineage.
Not to be forgotten, my mom's wonderful family is 100% Italian. My mom is only two generations removed from their original journey to America. They were all originally Catholic, as was most of the population of this area at that time. Today, my immediate family are the only Catholics left, although my other relatives are still very devoted Christians, just of the non-Catholic variety. It's all very interesting, from the perspective of a religious person. I feel very lucky to have the family that I do - lots of love and support, all based on faith in our God. It's good stuff.
And, to top it off, on my way there, I experienced a problem that is notorious in all cold winter weather climates - the spring/summer road construction season. UGH. It's a limited window of weather that is warm enough to accommodate such work, and thus it begins in earnest near April and goes non-stop until October, when we're all weary from detours and beaten into single lane submission. Not pleasant. As well, when I reached for my planner - where I have my dentist's phone number written down, since I feared I may be late - I realized, for at least the 4th time since yesterday late afternoon, that I left my planner at work and that such an action is a huge mistake. Sigh.
But it went fine, and my pulled wisdom tooth seems to have healed nicely. I then drove into work (on a different route) while I called my sister Shauna'h on my cell phone and insisted that she talk to and entertain me until I arrived on campus. I get lonely in the car; it brightened my day :)
While I was talking to her, I asked her about something that has been occupying my mind recently: our family geneaology. My paternal grandmother passed away just last summer; my dad's father passed away about about 13 years ago. I've been thinking about them both a lot lately. My grandfather was a Native American, a Six Nations Mohawk. Given my recent interest in crafts, I was thinking back to when I was a little girl. I remember my mom taking me once to a friend of my dad's family who introduced me to Native beading art with a loom. I loved it. I always wish that I had followed up on that. Maybe I still will, 30 years later.
My grandmother, I wasn't as sure on her lineage, so this is what I was asking Shauna'h about. I always recall her background being described as Pennsylvania German, or Pennsylvania Dutch. I'm suddenly very intrigued by this - could this explain my obsession with Amish fiction? :) I'm going to see my dad this weekend, and I'm going to ask him about it. It's entirely possible that her family was Anabaptist at some point. Both of my paternal grandparents were converts to Catholicism from a variety of mainline Protestant denominations. (Side anecdote - a number of my dad's relatives, including him and my grandparents, converted to Catholicism via a parish near us that was located on the Tuscarora Reservation - the only such parish on a Native American reservation in the entire state. My dad and grandfather both chose Bl. Kateri Tekakwitha as their patron at confirmation).
A year after my first Amish fiction post, I remain quite entranced with the Amish. And not in some "isn't it so quaint?!" kind of way. In a genuine admiration of their faith and way of life. I'm not looking to convert, granted :), as I don't agree with some of their beliefs about the sin of pride. But overall, I see them as shining beacons of Christian faith and living, and I would be honored to have that as part of my lineage.
Not to be forgotten, my mom's wonderful family is 100% Italian. My mom is only two generations removed from their original journey to America. They were all originally Catholic, as was most of the population of this area at that time. Today, my immediate family are the only Catholics left, although my other relatives are still very devoted Christians, just of the non-Catholic variety. It's all very interesting, from the perspective of a religious person. I feel very lucky to have the family that I do - lots of love and support, all based on faith in our God. It's good stuff.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Back from the abyss
So, yesterday was T day - the day of my Tooth Extraction. I've been dreading it for some time. I make it sound all dramatic, but actually I only had the upper left wisdom tooth taken out. The lower left was taken out years ago, when I was a teenager, and the other two are very much still in tact and kickin'. But as you know, I loathe going to the dentist.
Prior to yesterday even happening, I was already in a vulnerable mood. Wednesday afternoon was the big office holiday party, and I gotta be honest - I hate going to those. I'm an introvert. Situations that require me to enter an existing social situation and try to integrate myself make me break out into a cold sweat.
And here's the situation that inevitably unfolds: I wander in and look around. Conversation circles have been formed. I fill a plate of food that I don't even want to kill some time and try to spot the circle that looks least imposing to enter. Then comes the nefarious Attempt to Enter the Preexisting Conversation Circle. This is particularly uncomfortable. You try to catch the eye of a person that you know, wait for the right moment to insert your body into the circle, and start laughing at a story you didn't even hear. You're now in the circle, but you're not certain if you've been officially accepted yet. You shift uncomfortably with your plate and take a bite of a dipped veggie waiting for someone to acknowledge you. Once someone talks to you, you're golden. You are now a member of the circle and can hang there until a better one forms, when you then have to Extract Self From the Conversation Circle. This can also be dicey, especially if you're in a circle with a known talker that keeps making lots of eye contact. It's always best to avoid their circles entirely if at all possible. Of course, sometimes they enter your circle and you have no choice. That always happens at least once per office holiday party.
So, I endured that, and then had the evening reference shift. This decidedly put a damper on the amount of beer I could consume at the office holiday party. No biggie. The beer room was a rowdy place in which several of my co-workers appeared tipsy and were playing beer pong, something that I never wish to see again. I avoided the beer room after one small sampling of Christmas lager. So, reference shift, and then I met my college girlfriends out for a late snack and some gossip. By time I got home, I was exhausted.
And what was waiting for me? A big fat packet from the school district informing us of the upcoming kidnergarten registration and orientation for MY BABY. My baby!! My baby who just months ago was sleeping snug in his infant sack and peeing through our sheets every night. Well, ok, that wasn't months ago, that was 4 years ago, but still!! My baby!! It seems like just yesterday that he was a babe in arms, with those skinny little newborn limbs, nursing away. *sniffle* The whole thing made me very emotional. I tore myself away from the packet and told Mike that I needed to immediately get pregnant. He patted me and told me that everything would be ok.
And what did I have to look forward to? Right, a tooth extraction. I got up yesterday morning and dragged myself to the office as if I were being marched to the gallows. Actually, it wasn't all that bad. My dentist is very soothing and efficient. The numbing process was by far the worst part, and then she had the tooth out within 5 minutes. I pitifully made my way home, where I encountered something that is totally unprecedented. The house to myself.
Mike was at school delivering his last lab report and Hank was at preschool. I immediately made a beeline for the tv, turned on the Golden Girls, took out my crocheting, and sighed in bliss. I finished two ongoing Christmas projects - a scarf for my grandmother and a pair of socks (good ones this time!) for my mother-in-law. I watched 3 episodes of the Golden Girls and a schmaltzy Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel entitled Mr. St. Nick. I took a walk in the snow (with Mike, who was home to study) ate soup and generally lounged. I made some bread and dip to take to my bellydance holiday hafla today. Later, Mike and I watched Christmas in Connecticut on TCM while I knitted. It was like the best day ever. After the dental visit, that is.
Prior to yesterday even happening, I was already in a vulnerable mood. Wednesday afternoon was the big office holiday party, and I gotta be honest - I hate going to those. I'm an introvert. Situations that require me to enter an existing social situation and try to integrate myself make me break out into a cold sweat.
And here's the situation that inevitably unfolds: I wander in and look around. Conversation circles have been formed. I fill a plate of food that I don't even want to kill some time and try to spot the circle that looks least imposing to enter. Then comes the nefarious Attempt to Enter the Preexisting Conversation Circle. This is particularly uncomfortable. You try to catch the eye of a person that you know, wait for the right moment to insert your body into the circle, and start laughing at a story you didn't even hear. You're now in the circle, but you're not certain if you've been officially accepted yet. You shift uncomfortably with your plate and take a bite of a dipped veggie waiting for someone to acknowledge you. Once someone talks to you, you're golden. You are now a member of the circle and can hang there until a better one forms, when you then have to Extract Self From the Conversation Circle. This can also be dicey, especially if you're in a circle with a known talker that keeps making lots of eye contact. It's always best to avoid their circles entirely if at all possible. Of course, sometimes they enter your circle and you have no choice. That always happens at least once per office holiday party.
So, I endured that, and then had the evening reference shift. This decidedly put a damper on the amount of beer I could consume at the office holiday party. No biggie. The beer room was a rowdy place in which several of my co-workers appeared tipsy and were playing beer pong, something that I never wish to see again. I avoided the beer room after one small sampling of Christmas lager. So, reference shift, and then I met my college girlfriends out for a late snack and some gossip. By time I got home, I was exhausted.
And what was waiting for me? A big fat packet from the school district informing us of the upcoming kidnergarten registration and orientation for MY BABY. My baby!! My baby who just months ago was sleeping snug in his infant sack and peeing through our sheets every night. Well, ok, that wasn't months ago, that was 4 years ago, but still!! My baby!! It seems like just yesterday that he was a babe in arms, with those skinny little newborn limbs, nursing away. *sniffle* The whole thing made me very emotional. I tore myself away from the packet and told Mike that I needed to immediately get pregnant. He patted me and told me that everything would be ok.
And what did I have to look forward to? Right, a tooth extraction. I got up yesterday morning and dragged myself to the office as if I were being marched to the gallows. Actually, it wasn't all that bad. My dentist is very soothing and efficient. The numbing process was by far the worst part, and then she had the tooth out within 5 minutes. I pitifully made my way home, where I encountered something that is totally unprecedented. The house to myself.
Mike was at school delivering his last lab report and Hank was at preschool. I immediately made a beeline for the tv, turned on the Golden Girls, took out my crocheting, and sighed in bliss. I finished two ongoing Christmas projects - a scarf for my grandmother and a pair of socks (good ones this time!) for my mother-in-law. I watched 3 episodes of the Golden Girls and a schmaltzy Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel entitled Mr. St. Nick. I took a walk in the snow (with Mike, who was home to study) ate soup and generally lounged. I made some bread and dip to take to my bellydance holiday hafla today. Later, Mike and I watched Christmas in Connecticut on TCM while I knitted. It was like the best day ever. After the dental visit, that is.
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