I know you are all wondering how the #flap is doing. I got back from my conference on Thursday afternoon but saved the trip to after hours to have the stitch removed for Friday because the kids wanted to watch. So Friday I picked everyone up at school, drove to the clinic so everyone could watch the doctor cut the stitch out of my thumb, then we bought pizza and went to the grocery store.
Things looked like they were healing up nicely for a little while, meaning there was no flap, but more recently the freaking zombie flap has come back. I think it's DYING based on what the original doctor said MIGHT happen when she originally sewed it up and the fact that IT LOOKS LIKE IT IS DYING. And I would just, you know, carefully remove it, except that the back half is attached to a robust section of LIVING SKIN. So it remains in a disgusting kind of flap purgatory until something happens to force the issue, like I get careless and rip it off by accident or it shrivels up and disappears. Clearly the second choices is more appealing to me, so I've been keeping a bandaid on a lot, which makes texting kind of a nightmare.
So, how'd your talk go, you might be frightened to ask... It was...fine. The talk itself went well and I got some good feedback but after spending seven hours sitting on my hotel bed Tuesday afternoon before dinner and several more after a lovely Thai dinner with an old friend and colleague and also some wine, let's be serious, it was clear that I really REALLY had a lot more work to do in the way of understanding the problem and data and experiment. This is what ten hours of research panic does to a person by the way:
I made good on my promise to pick up sushi after my talk and I bought so much food that they gave me two pairs of chopsticks and then went back to the hotel and gorged myself while sitting criss-cross on my bed in front of the TV. Also I spilled soy sauce all the hell over the place.
And then I took a thirty minute shower and used an obscene amount of the wonderful Aveda shampoo and conditioner the hotel provided just because I could. And after all of that it was only nine o'clock so I went to bed. GLORIOUS.
BUT IT WAS SO GOOD TO GET HOME THE NEXT DAY LET ME TELL YOU. Even the endless supply of Aveda haircare products couldn't compare to the way Mary's entire body shook with joy when I walked through the door or the way the boys tackled me in the foyer. Mary didn't let me put her down for over an hour. James kept looking at me and laughing then running over to kiss me. It was GOOD, you guys.
Wes started soccer! He SMILED for LITERALLY the entire game today. Wes LOVES SOCCER. He might still be wearing his shin guards tonight while he is sleeping. Also today, Charley had a pinewood derby car race for Scouts. Both things happened at the same time, so Ryan went to the race and I did soccer.
James has taken an interest in cooking ever since we gave him a kid-proof knife for Christmas. He and I made tortilla soup last weekend. You'll be happy to know that I cut the onion without further dismembering myself.
Finally, THIS IS HAPPENING. The final, last, for sure last, baby ever to live in this house is starting to WALK. She is still rather unsure of herself and will only walk about five steps in a row under extreme duress, but she can stand in one place for MINUTES at a time. I cannot help but mentally extrapolate this development several years down the line to a day when we are done with diapers and sippy cups and reading stories at night and long afternoons playing in the front yard and NOPE, this line of thinking is why we have Mary in the first place. So I am just enjoying it and thinking about what a cool kid she is turning into. Tonight at dinner we all raised our glasses for a toast to Charley's successful nursing home piano recital and she picked up her plastic cup and joined right in. She loves dipping her food in things, which she learned the night we had French dip sliders for dinner (tonight she kept trying to dip her quesadilla in the salsa, which was far too spicy for her, so I made an offhand suggestion that she dip it into her beans instead AND SHE DID IT because she KNOWS WHAT WE ARE SAYING. TRIPPY.
CHEERS TO THAT!
Babies like Mexican food.