Goodbye 2013

If you're a Christian, the holidays, and all the duties that they entail, are ratcheting up to a fever pitch.  It's been a funky holiday season.  Hanukkah came freakishly early yet somehow Thanksgiving seemed a bit late.  On top of that, the kids' school break starts earlier than usual this year.  I don't know about you but I am now in a full on Christmas shopping panic!  What do I have?! What do I need?! When is the last day to order on line?! What am I going to cook?!  Ack!  So, I am going to take a break from posting until the new year. (I know you're sooooo disappointed. Ha!)

I am going to spend the next few days running around like a manic trying to wrap it all up so that I can sit back and slow down.  Rushing to rest.  Seems silly.  But if I still have errands hanging over my head,  I'll be stressed.  And I don't want to feel frenetic.  I want to feel festive! There's a reason I'm rushing to rest.  My poor little third child is a bit robbed of every childhood experience.  When I had three little ones, the presents were easier to pick and were more exciting. (And cheaper!) I was done shopping early and had the mental capacity to sit back and enjoy.  Even though my youngest is 10, she's my baby.  When my oldest was 10, she was still happily snuggling up to listen to Christmas stories and starry eyed.  We would all bake together with everyone wearing little aprons that Santa bought them one year.  Now they are running in different directions and I am baking alone often.  Sigh.  Though the youngest got to participate in lots of traditions, she doesn't even remember many of them. Yet the oldest was forced to do them so often she has vivid memories.  So I'm rushing to rest so I can enjoy this last elementary school Christmas... [Sob]

I am going to leave with three thoughts that I have been t'inkin about...

My 2014 Resolution-

My 2013 resolution was to take care of the boob "issue". Something that completely terrified me.  I was afraid of every aspect.  The emotional and physical "disfigurement", complications and I even worried about dying.  And yet, somehow, it's done!  I'm on the other side of this huge thing and it really wasn't that bad. I truly cannot absorb it. I've spent too much time worrying about approaching the age of my mother's diagnosis. (This birthday I can enjoy without that spector...). I spent months this year worrying about test results, planning surgery and then worrying "Is this normal?!" after.  It's done. I feel almost normal. (Well, almost as "almost-normal" as I was to start. Totally "Normal" is pushing it.). Now what am I going to worry about to fill that void of stress?  That brings me to my 2014 resolution:  I am going to try and be less fearful.  Of everything.  I won't succeed of course but I am going to try.  I'm going to try and worry less about my kids. (i.e. "Omigod - this obsession with _______ means s/he is going to be an addict!")  I'll dance even though I make Elaine Benis look coordinated and maybe I'll even try karaoke.  (Or not.) 

Absurdly Thankful for Those Faceless Internet People who Have Too Much Time-

Thanks to my recuperating and the necessary uptick in Internet shopping, this year, I am disproportionately grateful for all of those people who write absurdly long reviews of products.  I'm always taken aback by a 200 word essay on a refrigerator or veggie peeler. (Are these people crazy?) BUT they are usually right.  These faceless "commando consumer reporters" have helped me find some nice, new (stretchy) clothes and Christmas presents.  And it was such a relief that I could go on line and google something weird health/recovery wise and find a bunch of people that experienced the same thing.  So glad they all took the time to write it down!  (Sorry I'm too lazy to do the same... ). They make everything from good restaurants to travel to leggings easier to find.  (They also tell me how to fix anything I've broken!)

And...

A Final Holiday Wish

This is the season of family and parties and festivities.  A time to bulk up before the New Year diets kick in.  In years past, I'd put on five pound at this time of year.  Spread around but, I'm sure, at least some would go to my belly.  My holiday wish this year is:  Gee, I hope that my Festive Five goes to my boobs!  Wouldn't that be cool?  

Merry Christmas and a Happy and Healthy New Year to all!

(Because I used to love saying this on the last day of school before the break when I was little, picture me as little girl turning around and skipping down the school hall yelling over my shoulder- "See you next year!")

Juicy Couture Re-Run...

Ummmm...  lazy and in an "Christmas is coming and I'm so unprepared" worried state.

Nothing prepared.

How about a rerun? 

Just click on the words below.....

Juicy Couture

Belloobie Randomness

Last week I totally cracked myself up.  (I always laugh at my own jokes because I'm my own best audience!). I was getting dressed in the morning after the kids had left and was applying lotion to my incisions.  Because I had a "DIEP flap" reconstruction, my muffin top was the "donor site". My resulting belly scar runs from hip to hip and dips down a bit in the center. I also have a scar all around my belly button.   As I was studying this new version of myself I had an "aha" moment.  I ran out of the bathroom to get my cell phone and to look for some googly eyes.  Yes- googly eyes.  But, alas, I had no googly eyes in the house.  (Not as well stocked as I used to be...) I ran back up to the bathroom. A makeup pencil would have to suffice. Looking at myself, I had realized that my belly button looked like a nose and my long scar looked like a smile.  All I needed to do was draw a couple of eyes and I resembled a jack-o-lantern! I was hysterical and had to take pictures.  It feels too TMI to post but let me assure you- it's funny lookin'! I think I showed everyone I ran into that day! Sorry if you were a victim of Wednesday's TMI!

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I don't know how anyone could survive health stuff before the Internet.  Anytime something weird happened, I could go online and find someone else that had felt or experienced the same thing.  I noticed that lots of women call their new girls their "foobs". Fake + Boobs = Foobs.  But as far as I know, they are talking about implants.  My fake boobs were made from me so I decided I needed to coin a new word.   I think "belloobie" is the winner.  Belly + boobies = Belloobies!  Used in a sentence, "I have an itch on my belloobies but I can't feel myself scratching it so I can't get relief!"

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A wishful conversation I had with my husband after my surgery:

Me: Hey, J?  Do you think that if they take all the fat off of my belly you'll be able to see my abdominal muscles thought the skin?  Like- could I have a six pack or boxes or whatever you call it?!

J: Um, no. You have no abdominal muscles.

Me:  I know that they aren't developed but aren't they sort of naturally in that shape anyway?  Don't people exercise their abs to burn of the fat and make the muscle bigger so it can translate through? If he just takes enough fat, wouldn't the impression of the muscles have to show through?  

J: No

Me: [sigh] Man, it sort of made sense to me...