Still no comments, I see...
I am feeling rather down today. I think it may be because I'm consigned to wearing compression hose and taking baby aspirin for the duration of this pregnancy. I went to my surgeon yesterday to be evaluated for clots and such. I have one superficial clot on the side of my leg, close to my knee. And a deeper varicosity down below my calf. That one might cause problems if a clot were to develop... I shouldn't be surprised, this is pretty much par for my course. I'm just disappointed that it's acting up so soon. 9 weeks is way too early for all this. Which makes me wonder if I have a clotting disorder that shows up only when I'm pregnant. I realize that has never shown up in any of my blood work, but I'm still convinced. Which is the first sign of clinical hypochondria, I suppose. Sigh. And of course, if I have some rare, undiagnosed clotting disorder than it's practically a done deal that I'm going to lose my uterus. Obviously.
So, here I sit, perusing internet comment boards about postpartum hysterectomies. And wishing I could just kick the kids down to OKC so as to further facilitate fruitless 'wallering'* by yours truly.
Or, I could try an experiment. We'll call it Project X. I hereby resolve to spend this day trying to make it as fun for my children as possible. Without losing my sanity. Which means limiting the Star Wars sound track to only being played twice in a row.
First up, biscuits with last nights gravy.
Then, after a pep talk and 10 minute clean up race, we can sit down and color all together.
This means me.
Then they can do some obligatory math worksheets whilst I do some obligatory cleaning
Library summer program at 1:30
Return some items to WalMart and buy some light bulbs. (We're down by 6)
Movie at home whilst I curl up in a fetal position and self medicate with a 1200 page book.
Spaghetti for supper
Plead the need to keep my feet up and on a heating pad because of "dangerous" blood clots or potential thereof so as to avoid cleaning the kitchen.
Update to follow
*Wallering or wallerin: a colloquialism, commonly used by rednecks to denote wallowing in despair. Ex: "Quit yer wallerin an' get back ta werk!"