Wedding glow

As a 35 year old virgin tanning bed user, the first thing I noticed when I walked into a chain tanning salon was that there isn't a single person behind the counter who is over 20 years old. The senior bronze goddess quickly saw my translucent skin as her golden ticket to employee of the month. She pulled out her color chart and explained to me how I too could add color in plenty of time for my wedding with her magic machines.

We walked through the store and she began to weave her spell. I was enchanted with all of the products, the oils, the beds and features. So I signed up for the max plan that gave me unlimited access to all of the beds and the spray tan booth for instant tanning satisfaction. What the hay, it was on SALE!

The tanning lotion smelled great and as I climbed into the bed I tried to remember what all the little buttons did. How could this go wrong?

I decided to leave it on autopilot and just enjoy the ride. The lights kicked on and it started to get hot, but there was an intense hot point in the small of my back. I had vision that I was laying on some kind of temperature gauge, you know like a meat thermometer to tell the lights when I was well done. I pushed the thought from my mind with a deep cleansing breathe only to notice a cracking noise. The glass underneath sounded like it was breaking from the combination of the heat and my weight. I reached behind me to turn up the radio on the wall, only to find out it was up as loud as it would go and was stuck on a country music station.

Great. So there I am, sweating, with a hot poker in my back, cracking glass underneath me and I have no idea how much time has passed. I am completely bored, uncomfortable and I plan on doing this how many more times? Suddenly, the lights turn off and the machine powers down. I fumbled with the door handle and climbed out. Spray tan HAS to be easier than this. So I throw my clothes on over the swimsuit and return to the lobby to wait.

Thirty minutes went by and finally the the bronze goddess acknowledges my existence and calls me to the spray tan booth to demonstrate what to do. There are four poses to memorize. Hit the green button and start posing, waiting for the mist cover your entire body before striking the next pose. Then stand there to dry. She leaves and I put on the shower cap and "blender cream" and then step into shower hell.

First let me explain that this contraption must keep the chemicals stored at a sub-zero temperature because that was the worst cold shower I have ever had. The spray nozzles slowly sprayed their icy contents as I tried to hold the position while shivering through the first pose and it took forever. By pose two, my teeth were chattering and I just knew I was going home with tan teeth. By pose four, I am over it, but afraid to leave the booth in the event that I turn out like "Ross" from Friends.

I had two minutes of warm air in the dryer cycle and then we did it all over again for the moisturizer round. I changed my clothes and ran outside to bask in the humidity and heat.

That night I couldn't really tell a difference, however, I did the next day! In the half lit bedroom I woke thinking, wow, that's a LOT darker, but when I turned on the lights, I discovered I was orange... like an oompa lumpa.

I walked to the kitchen to get my morning cup of joe and Tom just snickered as he asked, "How do you feel about your tan?" "It only lasts for four days," I responded and took my coffee back to bed to cry.

Problems with my Iphone 4

The problem boils down to this simple fact: I need a bodyguard for my phone. I fear for it's safety and well being beyond what any apple care plan will cover. Oh, I know you thought you were going to be reading about reception problems and glue spots under the glass. No. I have reason to believe that Tom is jealous of my new phone and that it might take a turn for the worst.

It started a couple of days ago when he was working from home. I asked him to please be on the lookout for the FedEx guy, there was going to be a delivery and it was very important, it was my new Iphone. So I checked the tracking hourly only to discover that TOM MISSED THE DELIVERY. With cat-like reflexes I texted him, "Did you miss the delivery guy?" "I don't think so. I didn't hear the doorbell," he responded.

No offer to race to the front door and check. He didn't spring from his chair and chase down the truck. He just continued working from home. Doesn't this man know that "working from home" is corporate code for "I'll be at the pool working on my tan?" or in this case "I can't miss this very special delivery, my life is at stake!"

Two hours later he calls me to notify me that the stealthy FedEx man did indeed sneak a delivery tag past his watchful eye, but this story ends well in that I was able to race to the distribution center down the street and have my precious toy in my hot little hands that very night.

That wasn't the only incident. Last night, we lay down to go to sleep and Tom snuggles up next to me whispers good night in my ear. As he wraps his arm around me to doze off happily, his hand goes under the pillow to discover the iphone laying on the bed.

Tom: What is this?

Me: It's my phone?

Long pause.

Tom: What is it doing in the bed?

Me: Recording my sleep patterns. I downloaded sleep cycle to monitor how deep I sleep.

Tom: Why?

Me: Because I want to know.

Tom: You mean because you can.

Me: Fine. Yes.

Tom: What does it do?

Me: It measure how much I toss and turn, noises and stuff.

Tom: Isn't it also going to measure my tossing and turning?

Me: Nah. I put it on my side of the bed and not between us to help keep your data from interfering with mine. Plus I have a couple of days worth of data collected to compare it to. If I notice a drastic difference, I can just re-calibrate it.

I kid you not, I actually heard him roll his eyes in the darkness.

Tom: I can see it now, your going to photoshop me out of the wedding pictures and put in a great big iphone.

Me: Don't be silly. It's just a phone. Which reminds me, it needs a special carrying case so that it matches my dress.

He rolls over to no doubt plot. If anything mysterious happens to my phone, you know who is going to be at the top of the suspect list.

Iphone 4, I heart you

You might have heard that they have come out with a new Iphone.

• 5-megapixel photos
• HD video
• built-in LED flash - When you’re taking pictures, it works as a flash. When you’re shooting video it can stay on to light up the scene.
• has a camera on the front too!
• has two mics to suppress unwanted and distracting background sounds
• retina display
• more scratch resistant
• multi-touch display
• video phone calling feature called face time
• multi-tasking
• ability to organize apps into folders
• imovie
• voice control

Oh, Iphone... You had me at 5 megapixel camera.

Ninja training

After dinner, we started getting ready for bed. I gave the children drumsticks for dessert, banking on that buying me 15 minutes to change into my jammies. No sooner had I shut the door to the bathroom then Prince starts knocking. "Mom, I have something to show you, " he says timidly. "Is someone bleeding?" I respond. "No," and I can hear he moving away from the door. "Eat your ice cream, hun. I will be out in 5 minutes," I negotiate with no response. I figured he just went back into the kitchen with his melting ice cream that I can see vividly in my head dripping all over the floor as he saunters back through the living room.

How old do they have to be before you can pee in peace? I look down to see two shadows at the crack in the door and hear Maya and Callie's noses verifying that I am just out of sight. Ah, the universe answers my question for me.

I changed and walked through the bedroom stopping only to turn off the light as I stepped into the hallway. I walked carefully because it was completely dark and then from out of nowhere a voice catches me off guard. "Mom, can I show you...." Prince starts. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH" I screamed and with my mad ninja skills jump back to try to get away from the voice (which was about 3 inches until my back was firmly pressed against the wall.) My response scared Prince so bad, he screamed and flung himself likewise into the other wall. We stood there in the dark for a long moment as our brains try to catch up to our heart rates. "OMG. Why did you sneak up on me?" I gasped as I clutched my chest, pretty sure that I was having a heart attack.

"I just wanted to show you how the fudge in my drumstick looks like an eyeball" he said as though it made perfect sense. "Hun, why were you stalking me in the dark? If you want to show me something you have to have the lights on" I tried to clarify.

"Man, you scared me!" he changed the subject and then I noticed he was crying. I hugged him and tried to comfort him as we walked back towards the kitchen. By the time we made it into the light we were both laughing. I looked down at the ice cream and with the fudge center and it did look like an eyeball.

"Hun, if you want to kill me, please choose something other than scaring me to death," and I kissed his forehead, "might I suggest just dropping something really heavy on me." Prince laughs harder, "I didn't try to scare you." "Well then I am going to have to start hanging a bell around your neck so I always know where you are," I plotted.

Arm Waddle

My goal this year was to loose 10 lbs. It isn't that I think I'm fat, it's just want to be fit. That is what I told myself until I saw this picture.
















What in the heck happened to may arms over the years? Sure I notice a little extra swing under my arms when I waved, but just decided to give up waving. No big deal, right? Now I have to hide my arms like a fugitive.

With this photograph I can no longer deny my arm waddle. I added weight training to my exercise routine going from just 30 mins on the treadmill with my cellulite busters three times a week to weight training the other 3 days.

Meet my nemesis. The cold steel torture device that makes me hate life, almost more than arm fat, but not quite.

I know why they call it ripped muscles. That is EXACTLY what it feels like. Breathing hurts, sleeping hurts and all I did was 15 sit-ups. That got me thinking, moo-moos aren't that bad. I saw one hanging in a store window just the other day. I could just go by one in every color and grow into them over time.

What happened to me? I used to play tennis, workout, do aerobics, weights. I ran track and did the high jump. Well... Those days are gone. I had two kids and now my exercises is hitting the gas and dodging traffic to get from work, to soccer, to karate, to scouts to school on a caffeine buzz that starts at 6 am and goes till 10 pm.

No moo-moo for me. I will meet you tomorrow, oh great device of pain. I will keep at this until one day I am thanking you for the suffering that gave me sculpted arms. Well, I probably won't say it out loud. I probably won't even really think that, but I will be glad I survived and remember what is waiting for me if I ever eat another donut.

Ya, right. Liposuction, here I come.

Pied Piper

With the end of another school year comes the endless parade of half used school supplies returning home in order to be disposed of. What else am I suppose to do with another box of 48 broken crayons, 8 half used notepads and a ruler that was decorated with permanent marker so that you can no longer read the numbers?

Among the trash longing to be disposed of was a musical recorder. Why in the name of music were we asked to purchase these torture devices? There is nothing beautiful about the sound that comes out of these things, unless you ask a 10 year old. Prince gasps when he sees me poised over the trash, "You can't throw THIS away, Mom. I'm really good at it." Prince explains.

Dear god, please don't demonstrate.

This silent prayer was followed by 45 minutes of "Mom, listen to this song!" Callie and I shared a brief moment of mutual understanding as we tried to be supportive of my little pied piper as he played his tunes and danced around the living room. Callie was the first to crack under the pressure.



Prince mistook the howling protests as a sign that she wanting to sing along, so Prince played louder. Callie insisted on waiting out the remainder of the show in the backyard.

Traitor.

Cupcakes guarantee smiles

I love my job and even more so the people I work with. One random day they sent out an announcement that they had Gigi's cupcakes for everyone.

Gigi's are not just ordinary cupcakes. Gigi's understands that it is all about the frosting. They pile it on so high that the frosting tower is taller than the cupcake itself.

Michelle had this great plan that everyone in our cube section would pick out a cupcake so we could split them up, that way everyone could sample the different flavors.

The carrot cake was to die for! The strawberry "Princess" cupcake was divine. Then there was the peanut butter cupcake which I will never eat again, but that doesn't matter because the rich chocolately goodness of the Texas Milk Chocolate more than made up for it.

AIGA comes to a classroom near you

The Memphis chapter of AIGA wanted to create a K-12 curriculum that taught students what a graphic designer is and what they do. I raised my hand and took on this program thinking, well I have been trying to explain that to my kids for years. Now I can dedicate an entire course to it!

Since November 2009 I have been working with AIGA board members, a graphic designer who developed a design course at a local private school and Colonial Middle School. Colonial is one of Memphis' Optional Public Schools focusing on the arts (dance, singing, art and creative writing) and they offered us the opportunity to test our course on their students. Out of all of the art classes at Colonial we singled out Ms. Allen's 7th grade creative writing students because we thought it would be a good match for the AIGA class objectives and because she felt that this class had some real talent and could be challenged by this course.

This April I taught my first class and I have to say this was the most amazing experience. I was so worried about working with 7th graders who were already educated about page layout and creative thinking. I had nightmares the week before that they were going to be "too cool" to participate or get involved, but instead these kids were energetic, warmed up to AIGA volunteers and really got into it.

I had two class days to have students design their own posters about Optional Schools. We wanted them to focus on who they were designing the poster for and make sure that message and the images supported that communication. The first day I spent 15 minutes reviewing some basic design principles and showing examples.

Then we passed out supplies and showed the students how to work the blender pens to transfer type and images from their booklets to their posters.

Thanks to our wonderful AIGA volunteers, these students got some real one on one professional help with their designs.

John and Matt helped students think through their designs and answer any questions they might have.

Jessa used some of the materials provided to help her students think out of the box.

Emily was enjoying the creative energy.

Michael, Memphis AIGA president, was hands on with his group.

How can you not enjoy yourself with such a fun group of students?

I think we might have had more fun than the kids.

The look on Michael's face is priceless. Don't worry, man, they'll get it.

Jen looks so happy working with her group. I must add that after the first day, I think I skipped all the way to work. These students had such great energy.

I can't thank Ms. Allen enough for all of these great photos. She snapped more than 200 images and did a great job of capturing highlights of our first class.

These students are so intense!

The second day was dedicated to letting the students finish up their posters.

They worked so hard, but we just ran out of time. Even though they weren't able to finish their posters in two days, at the end of the class they got to show off how far they had gotten and talk about what they were trying to do with their message and how their posters targeted their audience.

Ms. Allen had the students continue to work on them over the weekend and sent the pictures of the final product. Aren't these great?

Despite the enthusiasm on their faces, I think we have some of these posters really show that they understood what we were trying to teach.

A couple I would like to point out...

I love this poster because the different colors look like puzzle pieces. For students, I think it is a huge plus to show how they get to pick and choose the classes they take at their school.

This poster has so much energy! Even in the group shot, his stands out. I especially love the comments from the audience in the bubbles.

She used the header at the top and the corner borders on the bottom to keep the viewers eyes focused on the center of her poster. Great job!

Look how she used the dancer to divide up the page and make "Colonial Middle School" really pop.

I don't know why she isn't more excited about her poster. Her concept was original and I really loved the attention she put on her fonts.

Here is a close up of the detailed lettering.

For our first class, I am thrilled with the results. I got some feedback from the students and will be sitting down with both the teacher and the volunteers over the next couple of weeks and see what changes they would like to make now that we have actually done the class. Is it intense? Yes. But I have already gotten back ten times what I put in and I can't wait to do it again.

The best toys

So we have been working on building our home office and are nearing the final stages. We had to have a few things shipped in and that means BOXES and BUBBLE WRAP.

It was a happy day for Prince, Princess and a couple of kids in the neighborhood.

Forget Toys-R-Us, for their birthdays this year I am taking them to OfficeMax.

TGIM

Thank goodness it's Monday. Some of you may not understand that statement, but let me explain that my weekend job is much more demanding that my 9-5.

By 9 am on Saturday my living room turns into an extension of the laundry room. Here we fold the clothes and pile them up to wait for the other clean clothes to join them.

The main laundry area where the dirty clothes are sorted into piles and line up for their turn through the machines.

I also had 4 yards of mulch to put into the flower beds.

At 11:45 am, Prince has karate.

1:00 we went into Midtown to party with Robin and Bayleigh at the Snowden Community Festival.

3:00 Princess went to Sweet-n-Sassy for a birthday party.

Please note that by 7 pm Saturday, all the laundry was done and hanging in the closets. The mulch was in the flowers beds and I discovered that I need another 2 yards to finish. The kids took a bath and we ordered a pizza for dinner.

Only one more day until the work week!

The fallout from therapy

So we went to a therapist to talk about Tom adopting the kids. We spent probably the first half hour just getting aquatinted. She asked the kids what they were going to change their name to and what that meant. They were adamant about being just Owens and not Embrey-Owens. They explained to her why it was important and even that they knew that it meant who they were going to live with if something happened to me. She turns to me and says, "Well I don't see any problems or hesitations. What is your issue again?"

We sent the kids back to the lobby for a few minutes with some toys as I explain to her about the Father's Day catastrophe a few years ago. The kids were so excited Tom and I were dating that they made him a Father's Day coffee mug. They made one for X too and told him that they had given one to Tom. X flipped out and told the kids that if they ever called Tom "Dad" that he would never see them again. We have worked for years to help the kids recover from this. It wasn't until this year that they dropped "Tom" for "Daddie."

We talked about X and his lack of a relationship with the kids and how I thought that that might be the fuel for wanting to change their names. I was concerned that X would use it against them in a few years, despite his initial excitement about being off the hook for child support.

She brought the kids back into the room and dropped some really hard questions on them. She asked them about the Father's Day event to which both said they didn't remember anything. My stomach tensed as she asked, "How will X feel about you being adopted by Tom? What will you say if X talks bad about Tom after your adopted? How will X feel about you after you are adopted?"

Every fiber of my being just wanted to stand up and scream at her for asking such tough questions. I watched the kids squirm trying to figure out the right answer. They were clearly uncomfortable and they looked at me after each question for some clue. I fought to stay neutral, but I'm sure I failed. I was just as uncomfortable as they were. The only one with a decent poker face was Tom. Princess was silent and just agreed with everything Prince said. The therapist was very clear that the answer to X should be, "if that is how you feel, you should talk to mom." Prince's response was he didn't think that was fair because that meant he would be putting me in a tough position.

Ten years old and already the defender. "My dear little man, it is I who should protect you," I explained. I made it very clear that they were the kids. Their job was to learn, play and grow. Mom and Tom would deal with ANY problems or uncomfortable situations because that was our job.

The therapists dismissed us with, "They are happy, healthy children. I see no need to continue sessions. Congratulations." Ok clearly you weren't following along. I need therapy because of this therapy.

We go about our dinner and get ready for bed and Prince wants to talk. He says he doesn't feel like we talk that much and he had some questions for me. "Hit me," I joked. I should have been more clear about that because he asked to decoy questions about my favorite ice cream and favorite game to play and then snuck in, "What if X won't let Tom adopt us just because he doesn't like Tom?"

BAM.

Thinking in my head- well you haven't seen him in a year, we can just file for abandonment- while my mouth said, "He might. That is why we are going to ask him and find out how he feels before we adopt you. X might be scared or feel left out. Maybe he has questions and we need to answer those so he feels ok with this change too." My best ventriloquist act if I do say so myself.

"Well I feel that he is just moving away from the family. We have to keep telling him that we have two dogs and our own room. He doesn't remember anything about our life. And we don't really see him," Prince continues.

I wonder... If you call 911, can they rush a therapist out to the house in an ambulance or something? Clearly this is an emergency.

"Well X makes different choices than we do. You are seeing a different way of life from the way we are raising you. That doesn't make it wrong, just be aware of how it feels because you will see it again in other people. He absolutely loves you. And I know that he thinks about you more often than he talks to you. He doesn't have his life together yet. I am the one who won't let you go stay with him if he doesn't have his own house and a car, but he chooses to live in a different state so that he can't spend time with you on the weekends and stuff. I don't have his phone number or address so we can't call or write when you feel like it, but I think that the next time you talk to him you should tell him what YOU need. Right now, he calls when HE wants to. You need to tell him want YOU want him to do and then it will be up to him to choose to do it. At least you will have made sure he knows what you want," I carefully explained.

He nodded and then we talked about Yughio cards until bedtime. I went to go lay on the couch and unload on my personal therapist, Tom. We agree the issue isn't about whether or not we adopt, but how we manage X and the kids afterwards.

Lifelong therapy here we come.

Wedding in 72 days

On July 25th, 2010 we are eloping in Las Vegas. Just a little ceremony and a nice honeymoon on the beaches of Orange County, CA. Second weddings, in my opinion shouldn't be a big production. We want to celebrate our family without punishing our friends by putting together a wedding in less than 3 months and expecting them to drop everything to be there. Here's the plan...

Tom divided up the responsibilities so we have a clear plan of action. He is in charge of travel, hotels and bikinis. I am in charge of the "ceremony and stuff."

Ceremony

Our wedding destination is the Seven Sisters in Valley of Fire state park. Princess couldn't fathom why we were not getting married in a church. I told her that millions of years ago that desert was part of the ocean. Over time it has seen all kinds of life, from dinosaurs and sharks to the bats and lizards that now call it home. All of those rocks were shaped over time and yet they still stand strong, just like Tom and myself. We've changed, adapted and we are stronger and smarter now than we were before. "Oh. Ok. Will you bring me back a rock?" she replied. And with that my wedding planner was on board with my idea.

I have the driver, photographer, videographer and minister lined up. I will have the video uploaded to the web within a couple of days so everyone can watch.

And stuff

With Princess's blessings, I have picked out a dress. I love this style and have ordered one in ivory. Hopefully it will be here by the end of the month so I can have any last minute alterations done when we have Tom's suit altered.

Yes, I realize that I would have to have at least two ribs removed in order to look that good, but fear not, I have been going to the gym 3 times a week.... and I photoshop.

Princess has been the BEST shopping guide ever. She was more than willing to give me her opinions and patiently waited while I tried a couple on. Then it was her turn.

And here is the flower girl dress she picked out. It is not by accident that her dress is similar to mine, hence the nickname "mini-me."

We've picked out the rings and are going to give them to the children for safe keeping until it is time for us to leave. They think it is so cool that they are the "guardians" of the rings. Let's hope that in their effort to protect the rings that they don't hide them where we can't find them.

Tom and I will also be presenting the kids with some gifts, small tokens to represent the new family we are forming. Princess and I are getting matching charm bracelets to mark the some of the milestones of our lives with room to celebrate those moments yet to come. We are not really sure what to get Prince. Tom is thinking maybe a ring since he was very drawn to one when we went ring shopping.

More stuff

The kids are going to stay in Memphis and as a special treat, we have Tom's niece, Kate, flying down in the middle of July. She will stay with us for a week so we can show her around Memphis and after this brief introduction it will be up to her to how she wants to blow out the last week of summer while we are gone. We've planned for trips to the pool, skate rink, park, movies, bowling and even the zoo. Trust me, living with Kate will be so cool that kids won't even notice that we're gone.

Even though we are eloping, we want this to be special for the kids, but they are not interested in standing around for a ceremony. They just want to party, so once we get back we are going to throw a small celebration at the house so the kids get to break the news to their friends. It's going to be a cross between "ya, my parents got married" and "the last weekend of summer extravaganza." The following weekend we are going to do some "family wedding portraits" because in our months of talking about this, we have discovered it's all about the pictures. The kids want to get really dressed up and have pictures with Tom and I in our wedding gear.

Slowly but surely everything is coming together.

Headed to school and oh so cool!

The kids loved having the rarest silly bandz in their schools and they are refusing to tell anyone where they came from.

So far, they haven't found another silly bandz they wanted bad enough to trade one of theirs for.

Note how Princess has hers sorted by color and how Prince has his spread all the way up his arm.

It's interesting to hear the stories about the social dynamics at school around these colored rubber bands. One girl has a ton of silly bandz and despite how cool Prince's are, she make sure that everyone knows she has more.

While at karate practice, a 3 year old came up to Princess and asked for one of her silly bandz. Princess almost reluctantly gave one up and I praised her for the sacrifice. The child broke the band within a few minutes and Princess almost started to cry. With some comforting she was able to regain her composure, but that might be the last silly bandz that is ever donated.

Ms. Dennis visits

Thank goodness Ms. Dennis, Princess's second grade teacher, planned in advance for total boredom at home during her one week absence from school and had the whole class make get well soon cards.

It really helped her to have something that she could read over and over again. She knew all of her friends were thinking of her and wishing her back to class soon. On top of that, Ms. Dennis emailed me the week before and planned a special trip to the house to visit her before she came back to school.

I pretended to call Princess down for another round of medicine and as she came down the stairs she spotted her beloved teacher. She was so surprised and so excited. There was no keeping her calm, but I figured it was ok to just let her have this moment.

Ms. Dennis asked for a tour of the house and Princess turned into a real estate agent before my eyes and gave her the grand tour. She opened what seemed like every cabinet door and showing off even the rooms I hadn't cleaned. The tour wasn't complete without a viewing of the "secret trash can." I had no idea that the small waste bucket in the cabinet under the stove held such value.

Ms. Dennis's favorite room? The room fit for a princess no doubt. Her majesty was ready for her teacher to move right in and even pulled out the hide-away bed for her.

Ms. Dennis is not only an incredible teacher, she is just a wonderful person to be around. Her energy and happiness was contagious. In her short visit to our house, she raised all of our spirits. She had so much love in her heart that Prince even got to squeeze in a hug or two.

Our little girl was so happy to have her teacher visit her house. The visit wore her out, but is was oh so worth it.

The transition to living tonsil free

The morning of Princess's surgery, we checked in and were given a beeper with 4 lights on it. The first was "check in". The second was "patient doing fine". The third was "come to recovery" and the fourth was "check out". Simply enough. With beeper in hand we went to the waiting room and tried to not be nervous in the growing crowd.

Princess stared at the beeper for 20 minutes until it finally vibrated and glowed to life, at which point she took off running for the intake door. Never mind good ol' mom who needed to gather the backpack full of stuffed animals and blankets that Princess INSISTED on bringing. Thank goodness the nurse stopped her at the door and gave me a chance to catch up before we proceeded to the lounge area where they took her vitals and briefed us on the procedure.

We met the entire staff of nurses and doctors and they did everything they could to answer our questions and make us feel comfortable.

Princess, in her favorite penguin jammies and robe, picked out dangly earrings as her anesthesia prize. It was like the doctor's knew her deepest desires and was going to make this whole process worthwhile.















We added the prize to the backpack and changed into her surgical gown. The nurse took her hand and led her into the other room and I returned to the waiting room where it was my turn to stare at the beeper and wait for the "patient doing fine" button to come to life.

As I waited, other doctors came out to meet family members and give the status report on their loved ones. I couldn't help but keep glancing at the beeper waiting for my good news. Maybe 20 minutes had passed when they called my name over the intercom and I gathered up the backpack and reported to the front desk.

The nurse at the counter asked me to wait in a small room off to one side of the entrance and informed me that the doctor would be with me shortly. The room was all white with four chairs and a small table. No decorations, no windows and only one door. I went in, sat down and continued to wait. As a nurse passed by, she saw me in the room and stopped to shut the door. I looked down at the beeper and still no "patient doing fine" light. That's when the panic set in. This was the "bad news room." I wasn't going to get a "patient doing fine" light.

I texted Tom the new status as fast as I could trying to beat the tears that were forming in my eyes. Tom, ever practical, assured me that she hadn't been back long enough to really even get started with the procedure. I tried to breathe and remember that they just needed more time to hit the "patient doing fine" button.

The funny thing about fear is that it slows down time. It's true. What seemed like hours passed. I became aware of how hot the room was and of how thirsty I had become. Maybe they were hoping I passed out before they had to give me the bad news.

At last, a fresh burst of air came into the room as the doctor opened the door with his arm full of papers and folders. It took everything I had to sit still and not start screaming at him. I took one more glance at the beeper. Still no "patient doing fine" light. I bit my lip as he sat down and started talking.

The first words out of his mouth saved his life, "Oh she is doing just fine, Mom. What a little angel you have." I started breathing again and he proceeded to explain the schedule and the medicines that would be our lives for the next two weeks.

And then I got to see her.















She was a little angel. She didn't cry or freak out. We used some of the sign language that we had practiced for two weeks so that I knew when she wanted water or when she was cold. She was heavily medicated for a couple of hours, but did a great job drinking fluids and even ate a popsicle while in the recovery room. The white thing on her neck was actually an ice pack. She insisted on her blue bandage being in this picture. They just used the bandage to cover up where the IV entered her arm, but it was a badge of honor for her. After a couple of hours we were sent home. I never did get the "patient doing fine" light, or any other light for that matter. I carefully explained that there was room for imporovement on their customer satisfaction survey.

I was so excited to see her eat spaghetti that night. I was prepared for her to not want to eat, but seeing her suck down noodles warmed my heart. Just gave me hope that she was going to recover faster than expected.

For the next 14 days we lived by this schedule. Pain medicine every 4 hours. It was like having a newborn again. What a great reminder why I am not having any more children. After 3 days, we were able to make it for longer periods of time without medicine.



















Day one after her surgery. While she was feeling much better she wasn't really able do anything. I went out and got her some fake press on nails. They were suppose to change color in the sunlight, but didn't. She still liked them.



















The second day of recovering, she was talking my ears off so I decided to take her up to the school to get her assignments so we could do them at home. The short trip to the school and back home turned out to be too much for her. She almost fell asleep at the table while eating lunch. I felt so horrible. I completely overestimated how much this minor procedure had taken out of her.

The two weeks of recovery dragged on. You can only watch so many movies and so much tv despite Prince's desire to test that theory. Princess lived off of applesauce, scrambled eggs, pancakes, protein drinks and sherbet. I caught her on more than one occasion standing at the window watching her brother ride his bike with the neighborhood kids while she looked on. I felt so bad for her. The next morning it was Prince who broke down and cried at daycare because he didn't think it was fair that she got a whole week off of school and all this special attention while she was recovering.

One the plus side, she is maxing out her levels on her Facebook games, Club Penguin and Pop Tropica. I offered to have Prince's tonsils taken out as well, but he turned that down.

Princess was so happy to return to school. Since she was still recovering, she wasn't able to go on the field trip to the Memphis Zoo, but I plan to make that up to her in a big way.