I’m one of those people who hate going to the Doctor’s office for tests.
Which is kind of weird, when you consider that I’ve never gotten bad news. Surprising news, yes (What do you MEAN I’m pregnant?!), bad? No.
I made a Mammogram appointment today.
I’ve put it off because breast cancer runs in my family/because I feel FINE/ because I couldn’t possibly have it.
But I can.
So I called. My appointment is November 16th.
When Undomestic Diva, who is one of the most fearless broads I know, threw down a challenge to face your fears for 30 days called Operation Eleanor, first I was like Operation ELEANOR? REALLY? But hey, maybe she’s had a life long fear of the name Eleanor. MAYBE THAT’S THE FIRST FEAR SHE FACED.
Whatever. I suppose it doesn’t really matter what it’s called. It’s about putting on your big girl draws and doing something that scares you. Me? I’ve got big fears and small fears. Things that I’ve been wanting do but didn’t, because sometimes I CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK. SOMETIMES.
Some I’ll post here, and some I won’t. Let just call those PERSONAL VICTORIES. But I promise to take you along for most of the ride. Deal?
Happy November boys & girls. Let the fear facing begin!
Every once in a while The Man tries to top me when it comes to “Who Loves The Brat More”
Him: I love the baby so much that I watched the Cheetah Girls with her. ALL OF THEM.
Me: I love her so much that I spent 7 months vomiting, and 13 hours of labor pushing a baby out of my cooch. I also got these really awesome stretch marks for carrying a baby around for 9 months.
Me: I win.
Yesterday was my Anniversary. This anniversary is kind of weird for me. I have now had my married name for as long as I had my maiden name. Also? This is age that I got married: 19. I have been married for 19 years. I am completely shocked that we managed to make it that long. SRSLY.
I’m also pretty amazed that he chooses every day to be married to me. Especially when I do things like this to him:
"Congratulations! I've managed to stay married to you for 19 years! I'm awesome (and you're patient)"
I wrote this on his car window at 5AM in the dark on my way to the gym. He didn’t even know I had done this until I was LONG GONE on my way to work. Also? It’s hard to take a picture in the middle of night (or at 5AM) without a flash. And even harder to take a GOOD picture when I’m still mostly sleeping, and I haven’t had any coffee. But it’s the thought that counts, right?
I really am the best kind of wife.
So this weekend, I went to my aunt’s for a surprise party. She turned 70 on Saturday. (sidenote: I’m not sure that I would want to surprise a 70 year old woman with a heart condition, but at least she didn’t have a heart attack?)
It was good times, y’all. We sat outside and ate fried chicken and drank beer (Sometimes, the stereotypes find ME, y’all). And there was cake. Yummy delicious, sugar filled cake. Which I normally wouldn’t mention, but diabetes runs rampant in black families, y’all. MINE ESPECIALLY. And usually, the people whose diet has no such restrictions (aka ME) get the short end of the stick at these functions. Sugar > sugar substitute. Any day of the week.
And there were gifts. Lots of them. I didn’t stick around for the gift opening portion of the program because a) I hate watching people open gifts and, b) I didn’t get anything because I had to get there early to help my cousin with the set up, thus cutting into my last-minute gift buying time. Bonus: Because my gift is already late, I have time to do some leisurely shopping, instead of frantic “OMG! I have 30 minutes to buy God only knows what” shopping.
But I kinda wish I *had* stuck around. Because I totally wanted to know what THIS gift was:
Sense of Humor. Old people haz it.