Chicken and black eyed peas
We will call the last three weeks surreal, because that seems to be the only word that can somewhat-neatly package this strange detour we find ourselves on.
And out of surreal must come random. So my apologies ahead of time for the utter stream-of-consciousness to follow. It's all I know right now.
Today marks two weeks since my gallbladder was slurped through my belly button, and I'm healing nicely. The only pain is usually at the end of a busy day when I've probably overdone it, but where is that line exactly? You don't really know until after you've crossed it.
Pain meds are a thing of the past, and after coming home from the hospital, I only took the good stuff before going to sleep the first few nights. Ice packs have made all the difference in the world.
In theory, I no longer have to worry about what I eat, because there's no angry organ in there to keep me up all night moaning in the fetal position. But I'm still a little scared. Why? I don't know.
But to assuage my irrational fear, I've mainly been subsisting on chicken and black-eyed peas for two weeks. Glory to God and credit to my Mama who has kept these healthy savories coming for me. So good, y'all. I can't even.
Last week was spent convalescing at home, shuffling from room to room because they said walking was the quickest way to heal. Whether walking or trying to find a comfortable position in a chair, I binge watched Home Improvement and Friends. Years worth. Turns out reliving the nineties is also quite the healer.
I'm back to work this week, more on my feet than not, which was right on time because Brandon succumbed to a nasty stomach bug on Sunday night. Ready or not, I have taken back over the house and chores, and it's actually nice to know that I can. I got to be a certified couch potato for a while. It was super nice, but not sustainable.
Of course life marches around us and our medical drama. Aden is most of the way through his basketball season. I have like three photos and one video from the first game and that's it. Know, though, that he is a rock star. The team will run several plays, he is handling different positions, and he's learned to set picks this year. Which is awesome. He's scored at every game, including a nine-point outing last weekend. It's as fun as ever, and he always has a huge cheering section.
Trey is growing. I mean, he's eleven, and now noticeably taller than me. All tween, not fantastic with responsibility, but so fun and funny and even sweet sometimes.
We've let him basically take over his school work, trusting him to get things done and study. I don't check his work or have any sort of due date list. Earlier this week he had mentioned having a test on Friday, but he didn't know what subject. Last night, I asked about the test.
Mama: Did you find out what subject Friday's test is in?
Trey: Yeah, it's on grammar. But don't worry, I'm great at grammar.
Mama: [can't form words]
You see, Trey is addicted to video games and spends as much time as we allow him on his computer and phone, all his tween buddies on their headsets together thinking they run the world. So for at least a couple hours a day, the back half of the house sounds like this:
Not an exaggeration.
I look forward to seeing the grade on the grammar test.
That's about all I can offer for now. I am beyond cheesed at myself for blogging so little this year, but winter is hard with fewer opportunities for pictures. And it seems that the older the kids get, the less cutesie stuff there is to share. Which is kind of sad.
Time to pull the camera out again.
And out of surreal must come random. So my apologies ahead of time for the utter stream-of-consciousness to follow. It's all I know right now.
Today marks two weeks since my gallbladder was slurped through my belly button, and I'm healing nicely. The only pain is usually at the end of a busy day when I've probably overdone it, but where is that line exactly? You don't really know until after you've crossed it.
Pain meds are a thing of the past, and after coming home from the hospital, I only took the good stuff before going to sleep the first few nights. Ice packs have made all the difference in the world.
In theory, I no longer have to worry about what I eat, because there's no angry organ in there to keep me up all night moaning in the fetal position. But I'm still a little scared. Why? I don't know.
But to assuage my irrational fear, I've mainly been subsisting on chicken and black-eyed peas for two weeks. Glory to God and credit to my Mama who has kept these healthy savories coming for me. So good, y'all. I can't even.
Last week was spent convalescing at home, shuffling from room to room because they said walking was the quickest way to heal. Whether walking or trying to find a comfortable position in a chair, I binge watched Home Improvement and Friends. Years worth. Turns out reliving the nineties is also quite the healer.
I'm back to work this week, more on my feet than not, which was right on time because Brandon succumbed to a nasty stomach bug on Sunday night. Ready or not, I have taken back over the house and chores, and it's actually nice to know that I can. I got to be a certified couch potato for a while. It was super nice, but not sustainable.
Of course life marches around us and our medical drama. Aden is most of the way through his basketball season. I have like three photos and one video from the first game and that's it. Know, though, that he is a rock star. The team will run several plays, he is handling different positions, and he's learned to set picks this year. Which is awesome. He's scored at every game, including a nine-point outing last weekend. It's as fun as ever, and he always has a huge cheering section.
Trey is growing. I mean, he's eleven, and now noticeably taller than me. All tween, not fantastic with responsibility, but so fun and funny and even sweet sometimes.
We've let him basically take over his school work, trusting him to get things done and study. I don't check his work or have any sort of due date list. Earlier this week he had mentioned having a test on Friday, but he didn't know what subject. Last night, I asked about the test.
Mama: Did you find out what subject Friday's test is in?
Trey: Yeah, it's on grammar. But don't worry, I'm great at grammar.
Mama: [can't form words]
You see, Trey is addicted to video games and spends as much time as we allow him on his computer and phone, all his tween buddies on their headsets together thinking they run the world. So for at least a couple hours a day, the back half of the house sounds like this:
Not an exaggeration.
I look forward to seeing the grade on the grammar test.
That's about all I can offer for now. I am beyond cheesed at myself for blogging so little this year, but winter is hard with fewer opportunities for pictures. And it seems that the older the kids get, the less cutesie stuff there is to share. Which is kind of sad.
Time to pull the camera out again.
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