Blog?

Did I have a blog around here somewhere? Cannot quite remember, and it's not just the new addition to the Chaos around here, though Henry certainly keeps me hopping. It's not just the shiny, new toy of Facebook (the memories, the schizo nature of it and the occasional train wreck you can witness)... although it IS a proven fact that I only have so much writing in me per diem, and a little blurb about what I am doing/thinking on FB, apparently passes for a whole blog-post worth of writing nowadays.

Part of it is that "Blog" is almost a language. When I am in the groove I actually think in Blog as well as English. I am living my life, but I am also storing up tidbits and seeing events through a lens of blogability.

Haven't been doing that lately.... thinking like that.

My only regret is that the funny, exasperating and milestone-ish things that are happening around here are sliding by and slipping away. Like the fact that Pearl is a HOOLIGAN these days. My sweet little baby girlie that was so angelic I feared for her life; some beings are too sweet to live on this earth very long. Well, I don't worry so much anymore. She is a beast.

Example? Last night she nipped me on the arm, cracked her baby brother on the head with Birdies new little digital camera and then promptly ran upstairs and emptied an entire box of breakfast cereal on the kitchen floor. Right in front of Dadguy, on purpose. And the sad thing is that we are breaking our backs to make sure she is getting as much attention as we can manage. I am thinking that our best is simply not enough, and so she is spending half her days in time out.

Fibblety crap-sticks.

I suspect that Dadguy had the right of it when he observed that four is just too many. "We have more than we can handle here, but hopefully we might be able to grow into it." Crossing my fingers, and thinking that maybe we will grow into the new dimensions of the fam. Something hurts anyway, so I am praying that it's growing pains.

Speaking of something hurting.... guess what Yours Truly did to ring in the New Year? Did you guess "drag her sorry butt into the ER?" Cuz if you did, go ahead and award yourself the "I Am a Freakin' Psychic" button, and pin that bit of flair on your vest.

Before you worry too much, let me esplain. After doing a little too much, I will sometimes feel extra-sensitive on my incision site the next day. But last night after wracking my brains and being unable to recall any lifting or heavy duty activity that would account for my increased tenderness, I decided to check. Without going into the TMI details here... let's just say that a portion of my incision had become infected, something I wasn't aware could happen after the outside had healed and was sealed off. By the time I checked, it was after nine o'clock and a simple office-visit-worthy problem had become a trip to the ER, simply because nothing else was open or would be open until Friday. The on-call physician was pretty adamant that this could not wait. "Blah-blah-blah septic blah." So I rang in 2009 with some double strength Bactrim. Whee.

And hoo-rah... tape on the girl-parts revisited, cuz you can never have enough of that action.

And, umm.. Oh yeah. HAPPY NEW YEARS!