Blogging 2015: 345 down, 1670 to go

This was my uterus for the 10 years I was on the pill.

I am woman! I am the Earth! I am in sync with the cycles of the moon!

She was a happy camper. All my internal organs got along famously well in my abdomen with nary a squabble nor a snit.  Then I went off the pill and got pregnant immediately.  My uterus felt useful and aside from a demanding candy and grape soda, she did her job well and didn't even trouble me much when eviction day came.

After my daughter was born I went back on the pill.

I grow people. I am a superhero, I lost the baby weight like a champ.

I should mention my uterus lost the baby weight. I remained a big fat fatty until...well until I got pregnant again and got big fat fattier.

When I got pregnant with the boys, I was sick a lot, but I blame my ovaries more than my uterus for that. My poor uterus got huge and stretched and for all that she did a good job and only bothered me when I let myself get dehydrated and when she was stretched farther than anyone has a right to ask of a reasonable uterus.

Then I got sterilized (Essure) and for a while, me and my uterus were buds. 

My work is done. Now I can retire and pick up a hobby. Maybe I'll start dating.

The large intestine is kind of cute.

Then, about a year ago, something changed.  My uterus became angry.

You want a piece of me, bladder? BECAUSE I WILL CUT YOU.

Prostaglandins started flying, she started twisting and squirming around in my abdominal cavity, and things went to shit pretty quickly. Literally. The prostaglandins that cause the uterus to contract cause other things to contract as well.

Stupid ovaries, I shall tear you to pieces and eat your tender follicles!

I don't know. Maybe my colon did her wrong. Maybe she's had a string of bad fallopian tube days. Whatever her problem is, it's been fucking up my life for way too long. Every month she tries to exsanguinate me and cut her way out of my body through my spine.

My uterus is a stupid cunt.

Monday I had an IUD placed, which will hopefully give her something to love and care for so she'll stop trying to eviscerate me. It was a pretty routine kind of thing, except that there was a new RN in the room along with the LPN that looks freakishly like my mother-in-law, and my doctor. It was a big goddamn uterus party up in there. I mean, I've had a large group of people focused on my ladygarden before, but only because my uterine clown car was about to expel it's contents all over the floor. It was a big room, there was a spotlight, and 8 people not counting me or my babies.  Then there was the Essure procedure which I got to watch as it involved a camera...and five other people in the room including a rep from the drug company. He at least stood over my shoulder so he saw the living room, as it were, but not the foyer. In your head I'd like you to pronounce that foy-yay. Because my ladyparts are fancy. 

In fact, there's probably upwards of 25 people who've seen my cervix up close and personal...and I've only had 4 sexual partners...and I don't recall any of them using a speculum.  When I was in pharmacy school you could get a job letting medical students from the U up the road do pap smears on you for money. I never did, but I understand the money was good.  This was before the days of vajazzling, but could you imagine how much fun you could have freaking out medical students with a vajazzled mommyparts? 

At any rate, with luck in about 6 weeks my uterus will shut the fuck up forever. Then you won't have to look at clumsy doodles of internal organs anymore.

I should've gone to bed earlier last night as I'd been up for a very long time, but I got hung up in Game of Thrones so I only got 9 hours of sleep last night. This morning I woke up to my alarm and the sound of small boys snoring. At least they didn't get me up at 5:50. I made them breakfast, got the girl child off to school, and came home to make breakfast for myself pre-WOD.

Pretty standard.

I took the boys with me to the box and they did pretty well. No one bled anyway. I was tired and really crampy this morning, but I did the WOD with a fairly heavy load (for me) and even got 8 whole double unders at one point. I even did the GHDs even though there's an angry Viking army stampeding through my abdomen.  Also I didn't pee myself. Or have to use my AK, so it was a good day.

I made lunch for the boys and took them to school, then made myself a lazy salad. 

Lunch.

Then I went down to the basement to inspect the puddle fantastic husband found yesterday as he was preparing to leave for work and a subsequent conference. Whenever he or I go out of town, something goes haywire in the house. Last time it was the dryer. Usually it's one of the kids getting sick, usually with something that leaves the remaining parent housebound. Bonus points if you're housebound, the weather is shitty, and you were going to go grocery shopping but now you can't because someone is puking.  So a little water in the basement is dealable. I couldn't find the source, but I cleaned up some of it and set the fans to drying out what needs to dry out.

Praise cheeses the whisky's on a palette.

After picking up the kids from school, we spent some time coloring at the kitchen table. I'm just going to say it. I am way better at coloring than my kids. You should see the shit they produce. Disgraceful.

Pritty.

I made them leftovers for dinner and I had fish. Lemony, rosemary-y fishy fish. It was delightful.

In the toaster oven, because I'm classy.

Now I'm enjoying a root beer and waiting for the smalls to finish eating so I can drop something at the post office and take a get well gift to a friend. 

IBC, It ain't Point, but it's cold.

Tomorrow it's to the box for 0915, then to get my hair did and my eyebrows tamed. Then another night entertaining the spawn.  Tomorrow is CF kids, so that helps.  I also DVRd Planes: Fire and Rescue which should be good for a couple of hours of silence if paired with popcorn.

I don't know if I'm going to get to yoga this week, which is sad, but OH YEAH I'M OFF FOR 10 DAYS so I'm sure I'll find the time somewhere or other.

So, um, I'd promise no more uterus talk, but that'd be a lie. No more drawings, though. K? K.