Be juicy.

By the by, I cannot believe that:
A) My voice sounds like that. (It’s like a girlie, elfin, six year-old cartoon character with yellow hair on gobs of helium.)
B) I sound just like all the goo-gaa-gaa moms I have ever made fun of.

She’s flipped.

Sunday morning, the baby bean was cooing into the monitor as usual. But, this time, I went in to find her on her belly. Yup, that’s right folks. She has finally joined the ranks of babies that can roll over. And, she’s sitting up mostly on her own to boot. She still needs a little support while she builds some core muscles so she doesn’t do a face plant. But, she’s getting there quickly.

Of course, now that she is armed with the ability to flip, it’s her favorite thing to do in bed. But, she’s not a fan of sleeping that way, so we’re working through that quandary together.

Other new developments are that she really enjoys turning the pages of the books we read. She pretty much has it down and knows to bring the pages from right to left.

And, even better than turning pages, we are official members of the Maplewood pool. Lolo doesn’t quite know what to think of the whole affair but she seems game.

Check it out …

We’ll see if Matt feels like jumping off the platform high dive into the dive tank before the summer is over!

She is so strong!

Notice the lifts she’s doing with her legs. She definitely has a future as a yoga guru.

Welcome to the jungle.

We have arrived in SUBURBIA!

Jersey Plates

Here is a little insight into how things roll in my world. Earlier this week, I took on the task of registering the Volvo (thanks Mom and Dad!) with the state of New Jersey and obtaining a new driver’s license at a place they simply call “Motor Vehicles.” It’s not the “Department of …” Nope, just the MV. Those of you from VA feel my pain on this one.

Anyhoo, as I pondered which location I should visit, I also wondered if it would be best to bring the baby carrier or the whole kit-n-kaboodle, now known as our new baby jogging stroller. I envisioned a large and somewhat regal government building with marble floors and an abundance of space. Again, I am thinking back to the civil spaces I am used to in VA.

In the end, I scratched the idea of the stroller and thought it may be better to just bring the carrier. Thank god I did. New Jersey saw fit to close all the locations that are in the nicer parts of town leaving the working locations around the less “fun” parts of the state. I chose the lesser of two evils and decided to visit the Elizabeth location which had me traveling through the outskirts of Newark.

Lolo and I found the MV and headed into a hole of a building not much bigger than our former apartment in Brooklyn. It was filled to the brim with people just as annoyed as I was with the process we all had to stumble through. When it was all said and done, I lost about 3 hours of my life standing in line with a Bic pen and assorted papers. (By the way, in order to prove my identity, I had to bring my current driver’s license, my passport, my Social Security card, my birth certificate, a current utility bill, my marriage certificate and proof of insurance … and that was barely enough documentation.)

Here’s where it gets good. The wee one and I left with NJ plates and license in hand. But, the entire time I was standing in line, I pondered how I really had to go to the bathroom. The key was going to be how long could I hold it. I really wanted to make it home for obvious reasons. I certainly wasn’t going to take a break from standing in line to visit the decrepit facilities at the MV and expose Lolo to g-g-g-g-erms! But, even if I did decide to go there, it’s not so easy going to the bathroom with a 16 pound sack on your body without touching any of the bathroom surfaces.

So, I left the premises with a full bladder. Along the 25 minute ride home, Lolo decided that she was hungry, so we pulled over in the safest spot I could find which was in front of a Catholic school. At the time, there was a guy mowing the lawn and there were plenty of pedestrians around. So, I fixed up a proper “baba” and started to feed her when I realized that I just wasn’t going to make it. It just struck me, “You gotta go now. It’s either inside or outside of this car. One way or another, this pee is comin’ out.” And, those of you who know me, know that this isn’t the first time I have been at these crossroads. So, I did what I always do. I start making preparations for Plan B. I happened to have a towel in the car from the move which seemed to me to be the perfect cover.

I propped the bottle up for Lolo so she could continue feeding and I went into the front passenger seat making like I was “gettin’ somethin’ ” … what I thought I was pretending to do, I’m not sure. But, my thoughts at this moment weren’t exactly clear.

I sat down at the very edge of the car ledge, pulled the towel over me, dropped my drawers and proceeded to unload an incredible amount of liquid. Just at the point of no return, the guy mowing the Catholic lawn decided to circle back right in front of the car. Did he notice the gallon of water coming from the towel, I’m really not sure because I was staring at my toenails. I’m just thankful that no one happened to be walking by on the sidewalk I was parked next to at this moment.

I shook off the splatter from my feet, pulled up my pants, finished feeding my babe, and proceeded on like nothing happened.

Some people may wonder why I didn’t just go to the bathroom at the MV, or try to find a Taco Bell instead … but those are not options in my world. Somehow, for me, peeing in public on a well traveled street with my baby safely ensconced in her SnugRide car seat was a much better scenario. Those of you who just cringed don’t know the level to which I fear germs, especially those found in Newark.

It’s a cyst

So, is the definition of being a true thirty-something adult when you are diagnosed with a benign cyst?

For the past 9 months to a year I have had off and on pain in my right foot along the top. The onset was always random and couldn’t really be attributed to anything specific. At first I assumed that it was from my Dansko clogs, so I stopped wearing those, but then the pain would pop up randomly when I was wearing sneakers. The good thing was that it would hurt for a day or two and then would go away. And, it never hurt so much that I couldn’t walk. Well, then came moving day. I was wearing sneakers and felt that old familiar twinge return. Oh well, I thought, it will be gone by Wednesday. But, by Wednesday, I was limping through the Home Depot and in real pain. There was a knot on the top of my foot that was hard and super sensitive. Yummy, I know.

So, Matt went through the list of podiatrists close to the house that took our insurance and I had an appt. on Friday. He looked at it and said quite frankly, “I have no idea what this is.” Let’s do an x-ray and find out. After the x-ray, he said, “Well, it’s not a bony mass. Let’s do an MRI.”

WHA??? MRI???

“What is it doctor ….?”

“It could be a mass, a cyst, blah, blah blah …” I didn’t really hear anything after the word “mass” because the words CANCER started whizzing through my brain. I was just short of deciding that having one foot would really be okay because I could get an adapted car where the accelerator is operated by your hand when my mom asked if we could get an MRI that day. The doctor laughed. My mom didn’t.

Only Susan Mayo would somehow get me an appt. at an imaging lab within 2 hours on a Friday afternoon with no notice. So, I headed off to the local hospital for my MRI with instructions to drop the films at my podiatrist.

Well, the results came in and I don’t have to have my foot amputated. I have a nice ganglion cyst. The doctor said to do nothing unless the frequency of flare ups increases. I can have it drained or eventually removed if it becomes a nuisance.

The swelling is gone and the pain has subsided greatly so I will take it as it comes. I did think briefly about posting a gross picture of a ganglion cyst here. But, not everyone enjoys gross medical pictures as much as me. So, do your own google image search and cringe with glee.