B and his bike...

Do you remember where you were when you learned how to ride your bike without training wheels? My sweet nephew called us last night to give us the big news and explain in detail the thrill of it:

"At first I was a little scared and was going fast then I got happy and it was fun. And Jake can ride his, too."

Sweet thing. CONGRATULATIONS, BAILEY BUG! I LOVE YOU!

A little of this, a little of that.

Work is awful right now. Just awful.

And then this week I turned down an opportunity for Todd and I to pack our things, sell our shit and relocate to Costa Rica. I am clearly deranged.

We had a great Valentine's Day. Todd got a new pair of shoes (extremely romantic gift), we both got some concert tickets, and I've eaten at least seven full pounds of chocolate. That someone else gave someone else. Or that I gave someone. None of it was actually mine.

I've been having those mornings lately where it's hard to get out of bed and even harder to get out of the funk mood that is hanging over me as I walk from our bed to the bathroom. I can't put my finger on what is wrong because it would take about 24 fingers to do it.

Today, for breakfast, I had two potato and egg taquitos and a small coke from Whataburger. I skipped lunch because I was so miserable from the breakfast feast, and then snacked on some popcorn and another small coke a few minutes ago. Now, my stomach hates me for the junk I've given it today. It's seeking revenge. Plotting its destruction.

Poor Pam.

Todd's a love genius. A gift genius.

Last week on "The Office", Pam's fiancee didn't give her anything for Valentine's Day and offered up "the best sex she'd ever had" as his gift to her. (Since Pam is the receptionist at The Office, all day long she had to walk flowers, gifts, candies, life-sized teddy bears and balloons to her co-worker's desk and was disgruntled by the time her fiancee came to take her home.)

We're taking a class on Tuesday nights, so we celebrated our Valentine's Day last night. Todd gave me David Gray tickets, the DVD "The Constant Gardener", the sweetest card (he's very good at giving those) and the most beautiful bouquet of flowers containing my favorite, the calla lilies.

Today, a dozen red roses were delivered to my desk with a card that read, "To My Valentine, I didn't want you to feel like Pam today. Love, Todd"

He's so damned cute and funny and sweet that I can't stand it.

A year ago today...

I love my husband.

Update

The Mutha is fine. I think she gets to come home today. And she did vomick. Although Sam said that he was not an actual witness to the event, so right now we're still considering it unconfirmed.

I wonder how much the appendix weighs? I'm thinking it could be the key to those last few pounds that I'm wanting to rid myself of...Of course, I know this is irrational.

The Mutha is a statistic.

I know I just made a post about my childhood ailments, how my mom reacted when we seemed the least bit "off" and how she couldn't stand being sick or around others who are sick. Well tonight she is in the hospital recovering from an emergency appendectomy.

Apparently in the US, 1 in 15 people will get appendicitis. In case you're wondering, "Just what is the appendix and where is it?" I've posted a picture below for your reference.



It's just a tiny 3 1/2 inch thing. No one is for sure why we have it. But 1 in 15 of you guys will need it removed at some time in your life? Why not just take it out as routine prevention or something?

I'm not so worried about whether or not Mom will recover...I know that she will, it's a routine surgery. What comes with routine surgeries? Anesthesia. What oftentimes happens as you're coming out of the anesthesia? Vomicking. Oh, Lord, please give those recovery room nurses the patience to deal with the vomicking woman who could, prior to this visit, count on one hand how many times in her entire life she's vomicked.