Dysphagia...it's what's for dinner

I just ate a bagel (my boss was awesome enough to bring them in for us), and now that sucker feels completely stuck in my throat. This started happening over a month ago--whenever I eat, I get the feeling that the meal is hanging out near my voicebox for about a half hour afterwards. I went to our doctor about it ('cause I don't play when it comes to throat problems, thank you very much), and I have an appointment with a gastroenterologist in a couple weeks. The doctor seems to think that all the heartburn I had with the pregnancies caused scar tissue to form in my esophagus, so now it's not working right. Fantastic. From what I can tell on the internet, they'll probably want to scope me (whoo!) and give me anti-heartburn drugs to help things out. But, really, if it's scar tissue, it's not like they can actually fix it. I'm wondering what it would be like to live on a liquid diet. I think I'd miss pizza and cookies, but, then again, I'm a big fan of pop, so it might not be too bad. Of course, the whole liquid diet scenario is only if things are really bad, so, for now, I'll have to come up with other ways to lose weight. Like exercise and a good diet. Boring!

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

I'm back! Honestly, I would have tried to post more on the blog over the past 12 weeks, but the whole thing was a blur of diapers, spit-up and waking up three times a night. Plus, there really wasn't much interesting to say. I had a wonderful time being home with the kids all day, but it's not like the three of us had long discussions about philosophy. My posts would have been more along the lines of "threw blocks around today...ate peanut butter for lunch again. Phineas and Ferb was funny. Good times." I seriously didn't get to watch much non-kid tv either. I've been recording Mad Men, The Office and 30 Rock, but it's always a crap shoot as to when I get to watch them. Although, can I just say that the last Office when Michael came into Jim's office to get him to persuade Pam not to hit him was comic genius? I could watch that 80 times and still laugh. Ahhh.
Anyway, maternity leave really was good. It was a little overwhelming at first, but once I set up a list of priorities, things were fine. And the list went as follows:

1. keep kids fed
2. keep kids in clean diapers
3. clothe kids
4. keep J fed
5. attempt 1 chore a day like laundry or dishes
6. go to the bathroom
7. become engrossed in Dr. Phil or Oprah and then not be able to watch any of it for longer than 5 minutes because a certain toddler wants to watch A Bug's Life for the 212th time.

And I'm not even joking (well, except feeding myself was actually #7). I used that mental list several times when Lil J was crying, Tiny H was hungry and my bladder was full. It was good guidance when a lot was going on at once. But I am back at work today. It feels odd. It's funny how it feels routine but not routine. Curious. However, I do know one thing: I am excited about not having to eat peanut butter for lunch. Huzzah!

I don't know...fly casual

I was just reading an article titled "Scientists find rare gene behind short sleepers" and thought that was fitting since I slept for 3 and a half hours last night, woke up for 3 more hours then slept for an hour and a half until the alarm went off. But, unfortunately, I don't think this rare gene mutation applies to me because the subjects of that study have no ill effects from their short amount of sleep. Whereas I am currently unaware of how I got here this morning and am trying to prop up my head with the help of a large format flatbed scanner. But I think that's an interesting idea that your genes might control what kind of sleep you get. I've never really understood why I have so much trouble sleeping, and I like the idea that I can just blame it on my genes instead of thinking I'm doing something wrong. I remember back when I worked out 5 days a week, a lot of people said to me "Well, that's great because you'll probably sleep better now," and it never happened. But I look back at pictures from that era, and I really was rocking quite the meth addict look. Skinny, exhausted, still refusing to brush my hair...aww yeah. I was so sexy it hurt.

You tell that pile of worm-ridden filth that he'll get no such pleasure from us

Again, probably being overly critical of myself here, but I went in the bathroom this morning and was concerned by how my face appears. It sort of reminds me of this:

Fortunately, I have not recently looked upon the power of God, so I don't think my face is actually melting off, but it does sort of seem like the skin that used to be up around my cheeks is pooling toward my chin. Sigh. I've got to stop looking at myself until...well, I would say until the baby's born, but it takes me a while to bounce back, so maybe I'll just hold off on mirrors until about 2011. That might be a better idea.

The drink...I give it up!

I went to the OB's on Monday and the doctor told me I am now 3 cm dilated and "so soft that this should be a really quick delivery." News that I first greeted with hearty smiles and feelings of relief...until the doctor joked "which is only good if you live right by the hospital." Dang it! I do not want to have a taxicab baby! But she also said I could go any time this week, so I'm trying to mentally psych myself up. I tell you what, the thing that I really can't get over is the fact that when I was 3 cm dilated with Lil J, I was lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, getting the IV, etc.... Now, I'm just walking around, knocking back root beers and watching Shrek while I dilate. It's a very strange feeling. J has this theory that my body is going to keep dilating without any symptoms until I'm at 10, and then POW! the baby will just explode out of my body with one big contraction. Which is probably how he'd want to do it if he was having a baby, but I'm not sure that would be such a good thing. For instance, I wear jeans a lot. You see what I'm saying. Anyway, I will keep you posted if a child comes careening out of my areas while I'm sitting here Photoshopping nude figure painting. That would be quite a story to tell her friends.

She sleeps above the covers...three feet above the covers!

I don't know how this happened, but we've got a sprinter on our hands. I was sitting on the porch with Lil J yesterday when J came home from work, and when Lil J saw his Daddy, he got excited and started jogging down the sidewalk to see him. And then he just kept going. Apparently, those two jogged over a mile around the neighborhood while I waited for them. From what J was telling me, Lil J would stop every once in a while to point out rocks, flowers, holes and bugs, but he was pretty much jogging the whole way. This is astounding to me. It must come from J's side of the family. As I'm always telling people, my lineage is very Eastern European, and those people are not designed for swiftness. We are a people meant to carry heavy loads on our backs and beat mules with massive logs. And this is why you never see a Pole winning the New York Marathon. True story.

I'm a mog

Today is the day that half the library staff is taking off to go to a conference 2 hours away. For the most part, I'm glad I get to stay here and not have to worry about going into labor in a different town or somebody else's car (although that's only slightly more frightening than going into labor in my own car), but I found out yesterday that the librarians are all going to a party tonight that features a build-your-own-taco bar. Mmmm. And then there's an ice cream social afterwards. Just think, if I was free to roam around a build-your-own-taco bar and ice cream social, I could probably eat whatever I wanted, and nobody would say anything. It would be like letting a hungry grizzly bear loose in a Golden Corral. Think of the carnage! That dessert station would be toast!