And everything else that's going on.
"How are YOU doing," asks a friend.
I'm doing fine! I assure her. Then I add, Except for when I'm not.
The latter is rare, I'm happy to say. LW looks fine, acts fine ... well, truth be told, she occasionally acts like a little toot, because she's 2 and that's what she is. But she's also funny and fat and energetic. So ... cognitive dissonance.
She was weaned about a month ago. I have slowly started nursing her again, see if I can get my supply again. After more than a decade of nursing, it shouldn't be a problem, says DRE-BFF, who is also an LLL. (La Leche League Leader.) Not that she'll get much nutrition that way, but since there are adult cancer patients who are drinking breast milk in the hope that it'll help, it seems silly for me not to. I don't know if it was the breast milk, but last time around, her counts never dropped, an amazing thing. Don't judge me.
I sit her down and look at her seriously. It's not that you're not a big girl, I explain, it's just that you'll be going to the hospital for surgery, so that's why I'm letting you nurse. Okay?
Yeah whatever, Mom. Who cares? Boobies! Yay!!!
I worry that she's like a recovered crack addict, given another hit. Will she wind up on the street, trying to score from the new mother down the street? Strung out, offering her precious teddy bear for half an ounce of breast milk?
I began the South Beach diet Monday a week ago, the day before we took her for scans. I'm still on it. Hey, it's one thing I can control. I get up this morning, and so far, I've lost 7 1/2 lbs. I find myself humming, Feeling Groovy, while making breakfast. I marvel at that. Don't judge me.
Read the online news. Am glad to see that I wasn't the only person disgusted by the questions ABC asked (or didn't ask) last night.
I'm trying to fatten LW up. Whole milk, tempting foods. Anyone know where I can buy some plumpy'nut? (Just kidding.) The other night after dinner, she wheedles, "Can I have another cookie?" I automatically say No ... then shake my head at my idiocy. Kid, you can have as many cookies as you can stuff down your gullet. Especially since your siblings have already gone to bed and can't squawk about it. Don't judge me.
Gotta get back to my school work. I'm trying to finish off all my Ethics work, so I don't have to worry about that. Have completed my term paper on capital punishment. Trying to get at least two weeks ahead for my online class.
In the midst of this all, our music chair quits. As worship chair, it seems to be falling to me. I've been communicating to our leadership that I Can't Take This On, but no one seems to be moving. This may take Strong Words.
Tonight, I take the kids to the doctor -- the three older ones need to get all their upcoming vaccinations in case LW goes on chemo. Afterwards, a trip to Toys R Us. Don't judge me.
Surgery will probably be next Thursday or Friday. We're waiting final confirmation, because our surgeon wants the kidney surgeon to help him. So it'll be the same team that operated last time. That makes me feel better.
So ... I'm fine. But just in case, I'm not wearing eye makeup. Because I don't know when "except when I'm not" will hit.