Things That Happened.

Last I left you, my dedicated @#%! friends, I was very pregnant and a little angry.

Rest assured, eight weeks later, I am no longer pregnant! 

*throws confetti*

You may have already known that if you follow my instagram or facebook, and if you don’t, well you should be because then you wouldn’t have been waiting two months with bated breath for this press release.

Adding a tiny new member to the family was an easier transition than expected, although it helped immensely that Little A started part-time preschool so he’s out of the house three mornings a week.

*throws more confetti* 

I also had a steady stream of help in the way of grandmas and paternity leave so I was rarely left unattended to deal with the two mini hell-raisers. But that’ll change next week

Please send bourbon.

The birth-by-induction was a wee bit harder than the first but I’ll tell you all about that someday. She’s here, she’s growing, she’s starting to smile for realsies and she’s pretty @$^$!@# awesome. I don’t even hate pink as much as I expected to.

I need to knock the dust of this old blog thing. Anything you’re interested in reading from me? I need ideas, otherwise you’ll get a whole lot of MY BABY IS CUTE SO SUCK ON THAT.

And I think I can be more interesting than that.

…….right?

 

 

The Waiting Game

First, let’s discuss some missing details and catch up things because I’ve been absent from this blog, for the most part, for the last nine months.

That’s my Over It face.

I’m due tomorrow.

It’s a girl.

She is still not 100% named.

I have been calling her Mini B because she is baby #2 after Little A and she is showing signs of my bitchiness. Mini Bitch. Mini B. Get it?

I guess that’ll help fill in the gaps. On to business.

Takeaways from Yesterday

Dear #%@# Baby:

Did you have fun yesterday? Did you notice a difference in Mama’s attitude, fun level, patience and easygoingness? Because I sure as shit did.

Look back, try and recall what was different. Think hard. Rememmmmber.

SLEEP. YOU $^@$!#%ING SLEPT. LIKE, ALL THE TIME. WITHOUT BEING SICK.

And it was awesome.

The Incredible Shrinking…Nut.

Well, my blogosphere friends. I may still be semi-reeling the events of Little A’s hernia surgery, but if you ask the kid, he’ll have a different story. The day after, he’d say “ow”, point to the area and then run in circles for six hours yelling about god knows what.

This kid most certainly has his father’s pain tolerance.

Little A’s Big Nut

I alluded to some specialist appointments that had to be made in my update post. You know, that post in which I updated…and then abandoned you again. If you’ve been hanging around here long enough, that shouldn’t have fazed you. If it did, well, you’ll learn.

Back to business and nuts – at Little A’s two-year well child visit, there were a few things of concern.

1. He wasn’t speaking. I knew this. Speech therapy is ahead.
2. He wasn’t growing. I knew this. The checklist to rule out any major issues was expanded to include a blood draw, three month follow-up and a visit to a Cardiologist to make sure his murmur wasn’t a bigger issue than we thought. Which was exactly zero issue since he’s had it the whole time and it was labeled “innocent”. UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. We see the Cardiologist in three weeks.
3. He has a giant ball. SAY WHAAAAT. I literally cracked up when the pediatrician pointed out his monstrous testicle. I had been prepared for the speech delay, the growth delay, I had even already considered the murmur, but an enlarged cojone?! Nothing could have prepped me for that.
   

We got the referral to see the pediatric urologist. Whose name, not even joking, is Wang. I can’t make this shit up. The pediatrician thought it was most likely a hydrocele which is a hole in the sac that allows for a slow leak of fluid. Most of the time it’s caught before the baby turns one, so either Little A had a slooooooow leaker or no one has been paying close enough attention to his nuts.

The urologist determined it to be a inguinal hernia, and don’t ask me to explain it, because kid was throwing a fit in her office before, during and after he was examined and I didn’t get a full description. Either way, it requires surgery to repair it. I don’t need to know WHAT is wrong. Just fix it! Fix my kid’s balls!

I’m sorry, I feel bad for making fun of the #$!#$ baby, I really do. He isn’t in pain but it sure can’t be comfortable. But it’s his balls. BALLS. I have the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy, so. This is just the cherry on top of my summer, honestly. Like of ALL things, it’s this. It’s just so damn funny to me.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled that he needs to have a surgery or need to be put under anesthesia. But so many people I know knew what I was talking about right as I explained the situation. It’s a common procedure and he should be in and out in 20 minutes. I keep telling people the worst part of the whole thing will be driving in downtown Baltimore.

Seriously.

As it approaches I am feeling a little more nervous, mostly because I know how clingy/cuddly/cranky he can get when he’s sick and I’m sure he won’t be feeling very good down there for awhile. I’m also supposed to keep him from horseplay for like THREE @#%@!$# WEEKS, so that’ll be a fun challenge.

I just can’t believe I didn’t notice the fairly significant testicular sizes. Whoops. I should also mention that when the pediatrician pointed it out, while I started giggling, my first thought was HOLY SHIT I’M NEVER GOING TO BE A GRANDMA!

My brain sort of jumped a few decades there. It was a serious and immediate concern. I don’t have a set, I don’t know what goes on down there.

That’ll be my next few days. Tending to a swollen, surgically repaired sack and trying to keep a two year old relatively still. Wish us luck. We’re gonna $%@# need it.