A couple of weeks ago Laura wanted me to pick her up early from school. She said she didn’t feel well, but wanted to school go just for math. I know. I don’t understand her either. My motheradar picked up that she was probably feeling just fine, and wanted to go to school for the fun part (um, the part she thinks is fun). So, it was no surprise when the school called after her math class to tell me that she was in the office reporting that she didn’t feel well. I went and picked her up. I decided to test my theory that she could have made it through the day at school.
When we got in the car I asked her how ill she felt. “I’m not at all well,” she said. Adding, no doubt hoping for an afternoon of television, “I really need to rest on the couch.” I asked her, you know, just to test the waters and such like, “Do you feel so bad that you couldn’t go to a movie, for example?” She hesitated and then said she could probably sit through a movie. “What about popcorn? If you’re not well, popcorn probably doesn’t sound so good, right?” Laura replied, “I think I could eat popcorn.” Then she added, “And Dibs.”
So, I did what any responsible mother would do with a child who said she was too ill to stay at school. We went to see Star Trek. And ate popcorn and Dibs for lunch.
Imagine how it went when I picked her up from school on Thursday afternoon and asked her this question: “Laura, do you want to go home and do homework right away or would you rather go see Up?”
So, Laura did what any kid with homework would do if she had a mother like me. She went with her mother to see Up. Oh. The popcorn and Dibs? That was dinner, yo.
We totally loved both movies, too. Totally. Go see them. That’s all the review I’m doing ’cause I’m not being paid. Heh.
After much consideration about what to wear with my Stitch Nose to the event for Tom’s work last Monday night, I opted to go with a tastefully trimmed piece of flesh-toned tape. No, I didn’t wear just tape. The tape was to cover my nose. The rest of me wore black pants, a black-and-brown-shirty-dressy-type shirty thing, and black high heels.
In the social chitchat department, I opted not to tell anyone the truth, that the stitches were from the C-section nasal delivery of Adam Lambert’s twins, but rather to tell the more career-friendly “biopsy” tale to
anyone the one person who asked. Here is a picture from after the party, which clearly demonstrates that I’m a whiz with flesh-toned tape (and, yes, my hair is fricking awesome):
So . . . considering how awesome my hair looked and that I wore black high heels, what do you think Tom and I did after the party? This blog is rated “My Mother-in-Law Reads This” so I’m not saying anything more than is there such a thing as a foot epidural? because my toe was about to fall off from standing in high heels for four hours, the upside of which would be a golden opportunity to visit the hot toe doctor for surgical reattachment. Tom said his feet were killing him too, and dude didn’t even wear high heels (hello, it was a corporate event). So this is what we did:
We really know how to live life in the fast lane around here, don’t we?
Two days later I went back to the
obstetrician dermatologist to get the stitches out. The lab results are not back yet, but I’m feeling very good about the prognosis. The doctor said she examined the “section” carefully under the microscope and the edges looked clean, but she can’t be sure until the labs are back. She added that although we had to do the biopsy immediately because it had the appearance of basal cell carcinoma, there is every chance the labs will come back entirely clean. And, now that I’ve come down from my initial freak-the-frick-out, I really feel like they will. I will keep you posted. Meanwhile . . .
After she removed the stitches, the dermatologist performed some “Alan Parsons Project” or “laser” on my nose to remove some sun-damaged spots. Now I have Purple Dot Nose.
Purple Dot Nose will last for the next four to fourteen days or so, I’m told.
Purple Dot Nose should be gone by the time that Adam Lambert, the twins, and I leave for his concert tour this summer. (Yes, it is so Adam Lambert’s concert tour. Come on, you don’t really think anyone is buying tickets to see what’s his name, do you? Okay. I’m just kidding, fans of what’s his name.)