Woot Boyness!

He had his surgery yesterday. At the Surgery Center at Evergreen, which seriously has the best wait rooms and intake and recovery rooms, like, ever. And an awesome staff.

Boyness reports that "go to sleep gas smells like monkey breath. And tastes like monkey butts." He warns us that he will get monkey breath (probably true since "disagreeable breath" was on the list of what-to-expects).

He woke up from anesthesia complaining about the monkeys. But was fine after a few minutes. We were outta there 3 hours after we got there. He never needed the vicodin they sent us home with; his only complaint was the little bruise at the IV site. By the time all the meds had worn off, he was running back and forth and bouncing around the house like his normal, crazy self.

The only bump in the road was our insurance refusing to cover the antibiotic eardrops for Boyness. Um, riiiiight. The nurse called around and they ultimately agreed to cover it (WTF?) but it took her quite a while. And I'm thinking that it isn't really her job to be arguing with insurance companies for me. I'm looking around for where to send feedback (apart from the loveliness, I've got two suggestions for them about how to rearrange things in very minor ways - I'm talking moving a piece of furniture from one end of the clinic to the other, that kind of thing - that would make it easier for parent/kid pairs to go through the process).

My Son Doesn't Have a Lovey. And Toddlerness is Crazy

As I was reading over the doctor's documents, I saw a little "bring a special toy or lovey for your child" kind of note.

Boyness doesn't have a lovey. He's not particularly attached to any of his toys (if I asked him, he'd probably want to bring his Spiderman Lego Set or something). Why does this make me sad?

I can't think of anything that comforts Boyness other than myself and Fran. There are lots of things that he LIKES. But they are get-him-excited likes, you know, ninja turtes! spiderman! donkey kong! YEAHYEAHYEAHPLAYPLAYPLAY!! Not oh, I've got you and now I can calm down.

Anyway, I am now really really procrastinating going outside and taking care of some stuff. 'Cause I really just pulled this entry out of my ass, just to have something to sit here and do for another couple minutes before I have to pull the aforementioned ass off my computer chair and go outside.

OK, so it started raining, so I guess I get to stay inside for longer. Like all day. On my ass. Oh yeah. (OK, OK, cut it out, I did the dishes already and am going to go sew something now. I couldn't ACTUALLY spend all day on my ass. I'd get bored, and my ass would hurt.) And Toddlerness *NEEDS* a gingerbread man. NEEDS it, she says. Junkie. She's getting entirely too big a kick out of eating gingerbread arms, legs, and heads.




Yeah, she is crazy. "This is like my daddy!" she says, as she holds up an intact gingerbread man. And bites its head off. And giggles. "But I still like my daddy," she says.