Naw'lins

The women sitting around me are all sitting in a circle.  We are in a dimly lit room that resembles a warehouse.  The smell is musty,  but the loud cheap perfume doesn't take away from the mildew scent.  The woman sitting to my left has on bright red lipstick that is also on her teeth.  Her short skirt is distracting me from looking at her fishnet stockings.  The woman on my right is smoking a cigarette while nursing her newborn baby.  I stand up from my chair and I say:
 Hello, my name is April.
*Hello, April*
I'm a terrible mother and I .......I took my kid to Bourbon Street.
*Gasps.... then one lady fainted*
This is the scene I have  imagined in my head.  I have a vivid imagination.  But yes it's true. Yes I took my kid, my sweet, innocent baby to Bourbon street.  My best advice to her was- "Don't step in any puddles" and   "Darling, that is a question only your father can answer. Go ask him."  I really think that it was a great experience.  She enjoyed it.  She looked at the "hobo's" as she likes to call them.  Then she informed everyone that a hobo was a man that had a beard and was dirty and stinky with no job and rode a bicycle - but sometimes they don't ride bicycles they just sit and look scary.  She's wise beyond her years.  I was going to take her into Marie Laveaus House of Voodoo  but they wouldn't let her in.  At first I thought it was because she was a child and they were protecting her eyes from seeing any evil entities or scary voodoo paraphernalia, but then the doorman/bouncer told me it was because she had a cookie and she looked like she would get crumbs everywhere and touch everything.  He was wise beyond his years.

We got lucky enough to see a St. Paddy's day parade. It was kind of short though. Well, I think it was a parade - it had men and women dressed in green tight short clothes throwing beads and grinning like fools.  Come to think of it I may have seen a "I'm the bachlorette -Shhhhhh don't tell my husband you saw me here"shirt on one of those girls. Oh well, Paige thought it was a parade. And she got some cool beads.  The most unusual thing we saw was a tall, frizzy, red headed woman in a dress.  No wait, it was a man in a dress.  You couldn't really tell until you got up kind of close to him and saw arm her hair.  This wasn't woman arm hair.  This was man hair.  The kind that was hairy.  Only testosterone grows this kind of hair.  She had lots of freckles so I'm assuming he was a true red head.  At least she was trying to fool people with a tacky platinum blonde dye job.  His face was painted completely white.  I'm not sure what that was about.  Maybe her razor was dull and she couldn't shave her face and had a 5 o'clock shadow.  Fortunately Paige didn't ask any questions when we saw him.   Other than - Why does that man have on a dress and have his face painted white?

'Til Tomorrow

*post script- I actually had a wonderful time in New Orleans. I absolutely loved every single minute I was there and we did do some fun unbad stuff.... it just wasn't as funny!

*post post script- Check out the poll on the right hand side and be sure to vote.... IT'S NEW!

*post post post script - Just kidding! I'm done!

I apologize in advance for the picture...

I've never been much of a patient.  I'm more of a health care provider type.  I've only been hospitalized twice in my life : once was to actually be born and the other was to birth a baby.  I've had very little experience with being a patient.  I had my wisdom teeth taken out once.  Horrible experience.  I spent most of the 3 days recovering in bed with a head the size of a watermelon.  I didn't want to get up and I didn't want to take my meds and I didn't want to swallow water and I didn't to be touched but I didn't want to be left alone.  It wasn't a good couple of days.  I did stick tooth pick in my knee once - but that's another story.  It was a real bright moment in my life.  Anyway, to sum up the patient part of my medical career is to say that it has been short and thankfully so. 

About a year ago I started experiencing excessive tearing.  Not life altering but yet completely annoying.  It's the equivalent of your pantyhose always falling down or your socks always sliding down into your shoes.  It's almost as annoying as a car full of 6 year olds singing the only line of a Justin Beiber song they know.  (Baaaabaaaay baaaabbbaaay baaabbbbaaay ooooooo).  So for a year now I have dealt with my left eye tearing and crying at inopportune times.  It's really hard to have a serious conversation about flossing with someone while you have huge crocodile tears running down your face.  But a person can only handle so much and when my mascara wouldn't stay on I decided enough was enough.  There just is no justice in a one makeup eyed Louisiana girl.  I looked like a real live QVC make up special.  One side was the before and the other side was the after.  Ridiculous.  Now as you all know going to the doctor is not as easy as it used to be.  Doctors have to look at you, then refer you to another doctor that has to look at you a couple of times.  This doctor will then finally tell you what is wrong with you which is usually what the first doctor said anyway  and then one short year later they decide to treat you.  In my case the diagnosis was Dacryostenosis and in normal terms means stopped up tear duct.  The treatment for me was a dacryocystorhinostomy.  And in normal terms it means this: surgery.... where they place a plastic tube from your eye to your nose.  It's not as bad as it sounds.  I did wake up one time during the surgery and they were hammering and fine chiseling on my face.  I must have said something funny because I remember the mad laughter from the surgical team.  I think I said "HELLO ! I'M AWAKE!".  Humorous, I know.  Now after the next round of Versed I was feeling good and didn't know about any more hammering.  The next thing I remember was announcing to Jeremy - well it wasn't exactly announcing-  it was more like slurring "I'm not pregnant".  His exact response was, "Ummmm OK?".  Then I heard the nurse laugh and tell him I had taken a pregnancy test and it was negative.  He was still confused, he thought we had come for my eye. 

The next few days were nothing unusual. I spent 2-3 days whining and taking full advantage of my "patient" status. I slept. Then whined.  I ate. Then whined.  I watched television.  Then whined.  I really milked it.  I figure if I'm gonna have to lay up and be whiny, then I'm gonna be the best whiny patient ever. I even had poor Paige feeling sorry for me.  She asked me if it hurt and I gave her a dramatic story on the extent of the pain. Of course she believed me. I even left the little bit of dried blood on my nose to make my story more credible. It's sad when a mother will  misuse a sweet six year old's sympathy for her own personal enjoyment. I may have even asked her to rub my feet.  I can't remember for sure.  Then,  I asked Jeremy if I could have a bell to ring.  He said I'd gone too far. 

'Til Tomorrow