Genetics, Shmenetics

So my boobs are hideous, right? I’ve lost fat, but not skin. This equals SAGGING of EPIC PROPORTIONS. Think “tennis ball in a tube sock.” (You: I so did not want or need that visual, kthanx.) Before my surgery, I promised myself that my reward for reaching my goal weight would be plastic surgery. First on my list? Boobs. I don’t want fake ones, I just want them put back into the northern hemisphere of my body.

On Monday I saw my OB/Gyn for my annual visit and we talked about my boobs and the history of breast cancer in my family. The conclusion is that I’m going for genetic counseling and testing for the breast cancer gene. (Specifically, the BRCA test.) If I test positive for a known mutation, I’ve opted for a preventative mastectomy along with reconstruction.

I have no love for my breasts. I find them extraordinarily unattractive and I’ve never forgiven them for failing to nourish my beautiful girl. I don’t consider my breasts to be the seat of my femininity, so I won’t feel like less of a woman when my natural breast tissue is removed. Honestly, I think I’ll be relieved. I don’t obsess or ruminate on THE CANCER and whether or not it’s COMING TO GET ME, but it is sort of a small, dark cloud that hovers in the back of my mind. I don’t want to be ripped away from my husband and my child by some insidious disease that hides in a body part that I don’t even like. I also want Maddie to know whether or not she needs to be extra vigilant with her breast screenings and self-exams as she gets older. I feel like this information is vital to her future health, you know?

If the screening turns out to be negative for known mutations, I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference for me. Physically, it will save me from a mastectomy, of course. But THE CANCER cloud will still hover in the back of my mind and I’ll still stare suspiciously at my reflection sure that my breasts are plotting a war against me.

Because I am too lazy to come up with original content, that’s why.

What are your middle names?
Kimberly and Dean

How long have you been together?
Five and a half years

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Two days.

Who asked whom out?
Well, we met on eHarmony and technically he emailed me first. I think it was me who suggested the actual date that we never went on.

How old are each of you?
I’m 32 and Gerald is 40.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
Neither, seeing as we’re both only children.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Parenting. Without a doubt. Hands down. Unequivocally.

Did you go to the same school?
Nope. Gerald is a native Texan and I’m a yankee.

Are you from the same hometown?
See above.

Who is smarter?
Probably Gerald. He’s very knowledgeable about a lot of different things. My smartitude is generally confined to 80s teen angst movies and the ability to identify voice-over actors.

Who is the most sensitive?
100% me. Gerald is missing the sensitivity gene completely.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Um, does Sonic count? I guess if I have to pick a restaurant I’d say either Texas Roadhouse or On the Border.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Jamaica.

Who has the craziest exes?
Gerald. Although I’m the only one who has any contact with an ex. There’s no drama there at all, thank goodness.

Who has the worst temper?
Me.

Who does the cooking?
Me.

Who is the neat-freak?
I’m not a neat-freak, but I do more of the cleaning/bitching about someone needing to clean.

Who is more stubborn?
It’s probably a tie. I’m stubborn about more things, but Gerald’s tenacity is legendary.

Who hogs the bed?
We’re pretty good about keeping on our respective sides. Gerald is a cover-stealer, though.

Who wakes up earlier?
Gerald. By a WIDE margin.

Where was your first date?
We were supposed to go to the last night of the Texas State Fair and watch Blues Traveler in concert, but we never made it out of Gerald’s apartment. It’s not what it sounds like! Oh, wait. Yes it is. It’s exactly what it sounds like. Nevermind.

Who is more jealous?
It’s probably a tie.

How long did it take to get serious?
We were engaged three weeks after we met. I think we agreed to date exclusively after our first “date.”

Who eats more?
Gerald.

Who does the laundry?
Me.

Who’s better with the computer?
Gerald.

Who drives when you are together?
99.9% of the time its me.

Skimmers!

GAH! You guys are total skimmers!

This isn’t the first time Maddie and I have visited my in-laws by ourselves. Unlike a lot of you, I’m blessed with FABULOUS in-laws. I’m closer to them than some of my own family members. Gerald and I have a standing agreement that if we ever get divorced I get custody of his family.

I’ve had boyfriends with horrible mothers in the past, so I can truly appreciate my MIL. She’s my surrogate mother now that my mom’s gone. And she’s a wonderful friend and the best grandmother EVER.

I didn’t bring my laptop with me because I’m trying to detox from the internet for a while, but I HAD to call out all of you skimmers who couldn’t believe I’d come visit my in-laws without Gerald. Again, I call you SKIMMERS.

Blahbity Blahbity

1. I officially got my job back. Well, sort of combination of my old job and a new job. I start on the 2nd and I’ll be working M-T-W from 10-7. I’ll drop Maddie off at daycare school at 9 and Gerald will pick her up at 2. She’ll be in school a grand total of 15 hours a week and I think it’s perfect. It’s school and she loves school with the fire of a thousand suns AND she gets one-on-one time with her daddy. And it’s not like I’ll feel like she’s being raised by daycare with the 15 hour thing. I’m not happy about the fact that she’ll be in bed by the time I get home from work, but we have the mornings together at least. I’d rather miss her than feel like I’m trapped with her, anyway.

2. Speaking of trapped, tomorrow we’re headed down south to visit my in-laws for the remainder of the week. We figured we ought to fit in one more long visit before the daily grind starts up again. Gerald gets to pretend to be a bachelor while we’re gone. He’ll probably sit in his recliner in his underwear the whole time while I’m single-handedly dealing with Legion.

Huh? Bitter? No, not me. You must’ve read that incorrectly.

3. Our Valentine’s Day was wonderful. Maddie and Gerald each got a box of chocolates and a crappy breakfast. I was totally off my french-toast-making-game that morning. Srsly. It was bad. We went out for lunch so we at least had one meal that was tasty. (I made it up to them the next morning with chocolate chip pancakes and sausage, fyi. I’m not a horrible mother most of the time. Honest.)

4. I bought some new pants today for work in a size 16. That’s SEVEN sizes smaller than I wore this time 6.5 months ago. Not too shabby, huh?

Getcher Hot Fresh Friday Facts!

* I had dinner with some of the moms from my meetup group last night. (I joined again in an effort to be social and not such a giant loser.) Anyhow, it was fabulous. They were fun and surprisingly inappropriate. (You know I like my friends inappropriate, right?) I’m super excited to be a part of the group.

* Still no official word on getting my job back. It’s in the bureaucracy stage, but things look good.

* I’ve started taking Maddie to open play at a local gymnastics center. On Wednesday we were the only people there so we spent an hour and a half on the trampolines. I’m more convinced than ever that I need one of my own.

* I had my very first facial yesterday. It was even better than I’d hoped. Also, I learned that my skin isn’t oily or acne-prone and I really need to stop using the same cleanser I used in high school.

* I refuse to believe that my freckles are sun damage. They’re freckles and they’re adorable, damn it. I do not want to get rid of them.

* Have I ever told you that I’m addicted to Burt’s Bees lip balm? Seriously. I have a tube in my bathroom, one in my purse and one on the end table right next to my chair in the living room. I also have three unopened tubes on deck so that I’m never, ever caught without it.

* I don’t like ChapStick at all. Too waxy. Bleh.

* Maddie is obsessed with Finding Nemo. We have a salt water aquarium in the living room and we have clown fish and a blue tang. She calls them “Memo, Memo’s daddy and Dody.” She knows starfish, sharks, puffers, dolphins and seals by name. How cool is that? She’s my tiny marine biologist.

* While I think Valentine’s Day is a complete waste, I did get Maddie her own little box of chocolates. I mean, how could I not get her something? Damn you, greeting card companies and florists! You win again!

* I always wanted a nickname, but never got one.

So, um, yeah

Things are better here. Maddie’s over her cold/demonic possession. Also, there may have been some PMS involved, but I’m not naming any names.

This latest cold meant that Maddie missed two days of preschool. Wait, what I really meant to say is that I missed two days of Maddie’s preschool. I’ve come to cherish my 10 hours a week of alone time. When I realized she was sick on Thursday morning I was so. very. put. out. “What about me?? What about my QUIET TIME??” Again, there was someone in the house who had PMS which may or may not have lead to exacerbated feelings of entitlement/martyrdom.

After a particularly hellish weekend with Legion Maddie, I cracked open a bottle of Riesling last night. I’m not technically supposed to drink alcohol until I’m a year post-op, but I’m also not supposed to kill my first born child, either. It was one of those “lesser of two evils” type of situations. Anyhow. I drank a quarter of a glass over 30 minutes and let me tell you, it was bliss. I got a nice buzz that was gone after an hour and some blessed relaxation. I woke up in good mood for the first time in almost a week. I guess I can add “budding alcoholic” to my resume now. Most people get that kind of training in college, but I didn’t. I like to think I’m taking the adult learning course over at the bar annex.

Capital Murder

(Dearest Maddie, if you’re reading this years from now, I advise that you skip this post. Love, Mama.)

My kid is an asshole.

Seriously.

She’s a jerk and if we weren’t related I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. She’s ungrateful, spiteful, hateful and rude. A few months ago, I wanted another baby with every fiber of my ovaries. Now? I can’t imagine going through “two years old” ever, ever again. My daughter has taken my desire to procreate and stabbed it to death. Then she set it on fire and dumped it in a shallow ditch.

I love her just as much as I always have, but I can’t stand being around her these days. She’s contrary about EVERYTHING and my head begins to hurt within 2.5 seconds of interacting with her. Dear Christ, what would it be like if I wasn’t on the z0loft? I’d be in jail, that’s what it’d be like. It hurts my heart to admit out loud that I don’t like being around my kid. What kind of mother feels that way, much less admits it to the world? What kind of mother can’t wait to go back to work part-time just for 24 hours a week away from her kid?

The mother of a two year old, that’s what kind.

Conversations from the dinner table

Gerald: Maddie, where’s your elbow?
Maddie: Eye-bow! (points to wrist)
Gerald: No, that’s your wrist. Where’s your elbow?
Maddie:Whist!
Gerald: Elbow!
Maddie: Eye-bow (points to wrist)

Repeat 17 times, followed by actually pointing to her elbow.

Erica: My kid finally knows her ass from her elbow. My job as a mother is complete.
Gerald: Maddie, where’s your heinie?
Maddie: Wight here! (points to heinie)
Gerald: Yep, she knows the difference. There’s the door, Maddie. You’re on your own.
Erica: Time to get a job and pay some of these bills. Or get a job in politics. One or the other.

Done and Done

I’m all booked for BlogHer ’09 in Chicago. I’ve paid for early registration and booked the hotel room. I’m still searching around for a plane ticket that doesn’t make me feel like I’ve been violated by a large German prison guard, but whatevs.

I have no idea how I’m supposed to be expected to wait six months for this shindig. I’m going to meet Shelly, for cryn’n out loud! Shouldn’t the BlogHer people move the conference up by about five months?

Luckily, this spring/summer is going to be crazy hectic for us so it ought to go by quickly. It’s also looking like I’ll be going back to work part-time really soon, so that’s one more thing that should help time pass a little more quickly.

Part of the reason I’m so excited about going is because I feel like I’m doing it for me. This blog is my very own space in my otherwise crowded life. My friends and I can talk about whatever here. I don’t have a lot of that in my day-to-day life, you know? I want to grow as a blogger. Not visits or ads or junk like that. More like communicating better and engaging my readers more. I’m hoping BlogHer will help get me on the right path. If not, well, it’s sure to be one helluva party, right? I mean, I’m rooming with Becky and, did I mention SHELLY?