Hodge Podge

My mind is all over the place today. For starters my body starting aching yesterday afternoon. I have seriously been sick three times in the last 2 months. This aching started me thinking that I was dying...for reals. Of course my anxiety driven googling has me diagnosed with leukemia, MS and possibly lymes disease. Good lord someone stop this woman from googling. The aching got worse and worse as the night went on, eventually even my fingers hurt. When I got up with Rowen for his 1am feeding I realized my right breast was hurting. I take that back. My right breast was KILLING me. That's when my light bulb went off, not dying....MASTITIS. Upon further investigation and another google check I was about 90% sure this is what I am dealing with.

Now I am going to back track.....

In the midst of my aching we were at my parents house for sunday dinner. My mom made some frozen mango drink, we were enjoying some BBQ and Noah was playing in the kiddie pool. Nice relaxing afternoon. I served Noah some corn and rice and a few pieces of hot dog. No major expectations but he loves corn and rice so I figured he would at least have that. Close but no cigar. Since I am trying to adopt the new attitidue that it's only my job to offer the food and it's Noah's job to eat as much or as little as he wants I let him down from his chair and that was that....or so I thought.

Randomly Noah started asking for chicken nuggets which my mom was all out of. My husband offers to take Noah to Wendy's. Queue my shit fit. I do realize PMS and synthetic hormones may have contributed, as well as the brewing infection in my boob but this just really ticked me off. Trying not to start a fight in front of Noah I calmly explained that dinner was served and he didn't want it and fast food wasn't an option. It then got better. My parents decided to chime in and offer their 2 cents, siding with my husband who at this point was strapping Noah in the car seat on his way to Wendy's. My parents are now throwing shots at my parenting skills and I was trapped in my childhood bedroom wanting to punch someone, namely my husband. I suddenly felt 17.

Noah and Jesse return a short while later, Jesse boasting that he ate 6 nuggets. So when he weighs 300 pounds or is anorexic I'm sure somehow the mother will be to blame. Thanks. This food battle is a never ending circle and I have visions of stopping for nuggets on the way to Thanksgiving Dinner when he is 12. Sigh. Of course Noah, being the smarty pants that he is picked up on the tension, turned around and said the " F" word.... the F word. Totally my fault and adding to my already guilt ridden haze. This starts a whole other tirade from the rents' about how I curse too much and yadda yadda yadda. Then it happened. My dad, Mr. "you are horrible for your kid knowing the F word" tells me to cut. the. shit.

Guess what happens next?

Noah turns around and yells " You cut the shit Papa". Embarassed or guilty...maybe a little of both, my dad gets up, slamming things, grumbling and walks out. GRREEEATTT way to end sunday dinner. So we leave, kinda of like " what the hell just happened", a little confused, a little mad...just crappy.

So when I call my parents this morning to see if my mom will watch the boys so I can get my infected bubbie looked at, she doesn't answer her phone. OH and when she does she has an attitude and won't help me out. Are you serious???

So at this point, achy, feverish and with a red hot tata I realized making a trip to the gyno with my almost 3 year old son ain't happening. Really bad timing for a fight with the parents.

Hopefully I will wake up tomorrow with all my lady parts in tact