First, I'd like to apologize to anyone I may have offended during No-Fat Talk Week. (Jill, thank you for pointing that out.) I did not realize it was No-Fat Talk Week since I have never celebrated it (honored it? Taken notice of it?) before, but now, I will.
Second, now two friends have had babies in recent days, leading me to believe we are in the second wave of Alpha Gam births (the first one was in July). Jen and baby D are resting comfortably and I found out earlier today Liz had a baby girl this morning. Congrats, Jen and Lizzie!
I think April is next...! :-)
And speaking of Jen, I just have to say, I love her. She cracks me up. I think I'd mentioned before that she usually calls me around the same time each day; Scotty is down for his nap and Jen is driving to pick up Rowan from daycare. We talk for 15 minutes and then have to continue the conversation until the next day. And Tuesday was no different. She called at 2:45 and was like, "Hi...thought I'd call you like I normally do."I broke into slightly hysterical giggles. I mean, seriously. Who pushes out a baby two hours previously and then still has their wits about them to call and chat with friends? Only Jen. She relayed a little of her birth story to me, and if she wasn't my friend, I don't know if I would have believed her. Little Baby D (and he's not so little...8lbs, 10oz, 20.5 inches long) came into this world with a half of a push. Let me say that again: a HALF of a PUSH.
Mind you, I pushed for almost 60 minutes and lost my bladder in the process.
Not Jen. A half of a push and he entered the world. (I am just glad she was at the hospital...we had been talking for weeks that the little man was going to make an early entrance, and I was terrified for her she was going to give birth on the side of a rural country road in central Illinois.) I told her she was born for breeding and better continue to have kids.
And aside from babies, my new endeavor started last night: Junior League. It was a very informative meeting and I met some nice people.
I also learned the first rule of Junior League: you don't talk about Junior League.
The second rule of Junior League: you DO NOT talk about Junior League!
(obviously, I'm being silly...this is a quote from a movie. [guesses? Everyone should know this!] In all seriousness, it was a great meeting and I'm looking forward to volunteering.)
And finally, I haven't talked much about it on the blog, but I found out this morning that yes, I will definitely have to have surgery on the fibroid....in 19 days. That seems sudden, doesn't it? I am both happy and nervous; happy that the darn fibroid will finally meet his maker, and nervous because this is major surgery. Two nights in the hospital and six weeks until I can resume normal activities. How does chasing after an increasing-fast-moving-28-pound Bear factor into that picture? I have no idea. My mom is coming out to help, which is great, but I am worried that Scotty, Mr. Separation-Anxiety-Bear as of late, is going to be a total pill for her while I'm gone. I know he'll be fine (and I will too), it's just...blah. And blech. The idea of being cut open just isn't very appealing.
(I also wish I could call my mom and talk to her about this, but she is at Quilting Camp until Saturday. It's like sleep-away camp with quilts.)
Oh, and yes, George will be performing the surgery. In my recent consults with him, he told me extracting the fibroid is "just like shellin' a peach." (He went to school in Georgia.) Great. Such a lovely analogy. And for the record, when Adam and Tiffany were in town a few weekends ago, I tried to shell a peach (for our little brunch/breakfast) and it was WAY harder than I thought. I ended up throwing the peach away because I had mashed it into a pulp in my efforts to get the pit out. Technically, that would be my uterus...but I'm trying to not think about that.
So, there you have it: No-Fat Talk Week, more babies, Jr. League, and my uterus. Quite a mash-up, huh?