Dia de Los Muertos celebration.

The plan for yesterday was relatively simple, take SS to her game, then come home and chill while waiting for P, followed by family time doing nothing.  But SS and I learned that her friend E was going to perform near our home with the Ballet Folklorico, to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos. E's mom stated that it would be the first time the dancers would perform with DDLM make up. SS and I wanted to see E dance with the majority of her group, and offer our support. I told P about it and much to my surprise he said he would join us. Of course my macabre husband would not pass up the opportunity to see children with their beautiful faces made up like skulls.

Off to soccer we went in the morning, with strict admonitions from P to take it easy.  Funny that my concern was the stairs leading to the upper field. Upon arrival I did not understand what was happening. People were parking out in the street. What the heck, that is one huge park, I had never seen so many cars. P told me to park in a handicap space. Those were taken, along with every red zone. Forget the steps, we had a steep hill to climb, and I had not had pain medication because I was driving. We took it easy and got to her team. But that little stunt cost me. I was miserable the entire game, which is unfortunate, because SS came out of her shell. She made contact with the ball several times, and not by accident.  Usually I would be on my feet, very vocal with my encouragement. I could only whisper and applaud. The rest of my energy was zapped by pain. I'm glad I sucked it up, because it was such a wonderful experience.  The other parents picked up the slack, and SS had quite the cheering section. At one point SS was in goal defense. Three kids in front of the goalie.  Every time she has been in that position she simply stands there, and watches the ball go in the goal. She kicked the ball three times. Mind you, her kicks are weak, but at least she got in the mix. Near the end of the game SS did her job without being prompted. She left her spot and charged the ball. It was so funny because she yelled as she did that. SS had a really good game. Of course, that is for a child devoid of any athletic skills.

Although the last thing I wanted to do was walk, it was important for Sula to go and watch E. We headed out downtown and were not disappointed. Dead people everywhere. We watched the performance, then had dinner across the street. There are several Mexican restaurants in our tiny downtown area. Ever since we moved we have been talking about walking to downtown on a Sunday afternoon. It is walking distance, but that was not an option yesterday.  We also have two Mexican markets, which is two more than we had in our former, huge city.  It's pretty neat to live here.

SS and E, love E's expression

The performing area was too small, and we were too close to be able to include all the dancers.

I see colorful, dead little people.

We bought SS two Buzz Lightyear watches in Laughlin, and had saved the Lego one as a future treat. She did so well on the field today, that we decided to reward her. It comes with a tiny Buzz Lego that can be attached to the watch band.

SS decorates a turkey, and we say goodbye to October.

We made an interesting discovery yesterday morning. I have been wearing a very uncomfortable hernia binder after the surgery. Thursday night the discomfort level increased, especially in my lower abdomen area. Looking to see what may be the problem we discovered another point of entry. I actually have nine nice extra holes on my torso. They are closed of course, but gee, really, how could we have missed that. I remember one of the recovery nurses saying that I was a nice pin cushion post op.  Feel more like a slice of Swiss cheese. The area around that incision is swollen like the others. But it is very close to the end of my original scar, that area is also swollen, and red. That is a bit worrisome. 

SS had a school project that we had neglected to complete and it was due yesterday. Although we are the poster parents for procrastination, we had a pretty good excuse this time. The task was to decorate a turkey drawing as a family. Creative tasks intimidate us because we don't posses an ounce of creativity between us. Thursday afternoon SS and I set out to decorate her turkey. I wanted SS to decide how she wished to decorate. Although a family project, I wanted it to look like a five year old actually had her grubby little hands all over it. That morning I bought colorful feathers, then felt like an idiot just before we started. I told P that it would not end well, since I obviously confused a peacock with a turkey. P reminded me that the goal was to have fun, in other words, lighten up, it's just a school project, not her application to an ivy league university.

SS ready to start, sporting the cool surgical cap she scored two days earlier. Who knew turkey decoration required a sterile environment. In addition to the feathers, SS chose black and pinto beans, white rice, and beads.  Looks like overkill with the newspaper, but this is SS, master of the mess.

Glitter glue to write her name.

SS decided to add spiral macaroni to the mix.

SS insisted that the feathers "have to be a pattern Mama."

She changed her mind when it was time to do the bottom feathers.

A very proud SS with her creation. I was surprised we were done before soccer practice. SS is notoriously slow, and has the attention span of a gnat.  But she was focused and really enjoyed the task. SS cracked me up with her approach to choosing beans. I just used whatever I grabbed, but SS carefully picked the "right" bean. Yesterday morning we saw a lot of beautifully decorated turkeys, that rubbed in my lack of creativity. I told P they looked professionally decorated. A lot of talent in kindergarten. One thing they were missing was the tell-tale signs of a five year old's contribution. Ours had irregularly cut feathers, glue globs, and much more evidence of SS's handiwork. I'm glad we did this post op, it was fun, and SS needs fun.

We got around to decorating this year, and P was pleased that our next door neighbors had the Halloween spirit and showed it. The bat, skeleton hands, and bush skeleton were part of P's birthday gift bonanza from 2010 (his mothers, not me).

We had this Snoopy pumpkin kit for years, it was good to finally put it to use. SS thought it was the best thing she had seen.

She also declared this bat "the best bat ever." Who am I to argue with a Halloween expert.

P liked our neighbor's bush decor.

We did not get out our Snoopy inflatable, or our huge monster inflatable that frames the garage door. Then there's Wendy the Witch, Snoopy lighted signs, and the fog machine.  But this was a good first, step, we won't have as many distractions next year.  We are sad that October is over, it's such a fun month. Summer fun is spread over five months, but Halloween is all squeezed into a measly thirty one days.

Parade and trick or treat pictures.

SS is a very caring child, always concerned about us, making sure we have our phones, sunglasses, glasses and wallets, when we leave the house. A direct result of how many times we have left said items behind, or misplaced them. She worries about our health, and  how we sleep. The past two days her focus has been on my food consumption. We explained that two things needed to happen before I could eat solid food. Those two requirements immediately piqued the interest of our bodily function obsessed child. It has led to some interesting conversations as well. In essence SS asks numerous times during the day "Mama, did you pass gas?" We are not sure what drives her persistence, her need to see me eat, or her concern that I am not engaging in one of her favorite hobbies. She must have reached the end of her short rope yesterday afternoon. We had this interesting exchange (sorry TMI):

SS: Mama, did you pass gas?
Me: No
SS: What number you pass gas Mama?
Me: HUH?
SS: 25, do pass gas at number 25?

I have no idea what that was about, but she was very serious about it, until I managed to distract her. Again, sorry about TMI.  But sweet SS always surfaces, we are so lucky to have her. This happens several times during the day.

SS: Mama, do you need to bend over?
Me: (Puzzled the first time) No pumpkin, why?
SS: Mama you can't bend over, you had tummy surgery, you get hurt. I bend over for you Mama.

Wow, she definitely did not get that caring nature from me, but definitely Mami's great-granddaughter.  Abuela asked for trick or treat pictures. Prepare for too many pictures not showing much. One reason we are not overwrought with guilt like we were three years ago, is that SS did have a good October, and we did not spend the entire day at the hospital.  SS attended a pirate party at the library (OK, September), had a fantastic day at Camp Spooky strutting in her pirate costume, went to a pumpkin patch with her class, participated in the shortest costume parade ever at school, and went trick or treat at the outlets. We don't think she was deprived of any Halloween related fun.

Last Friday the school had a costume parade. We were repeatedly warned that the children had to change into regular clothing immediately after the parade. The school is trying to strike a balance between the families who enjoy Halloween, and the families who object to it for religious reasons. We are not complaining because if SS was attending school in our former town, there would have been no Halloween talk, let alone costumes. It is that way in any government funded entity in that county.  We are glad she attended a private preschool, and enjoyed the celebration.

K's mom was looking forward to a picture of the two friends as Captain America. But K would not pose with SS.  I might have inadvertently killed Halloween at school. I was aware that no weapons would be allowed. Someone told me at the end of the day that masks were banned as well. OOPS, that is why K was not wearing his, and his mom felt the shield was considered a weapon as well. Oops again. We think K had mask, shield and muscle envy.

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E dressed as Merda (P could not stop saying it was Mierda, thankfully SS did not repeat that), and K still refused to pose.

Let the cat herding begin. See SS in the back? Still striking a pose.

SS's class making their way to the lower field.

Cuteness

Check out B, the little golfer. This kid is the first metrosexual boy I have encountered. He loves to accessorize, and uses hair products. Cute as heck.

The boys checking out SS's costume. Some of the mothers came over to tell SS how cool it was that she chose to be a super hero, rather than a princess. One mom complained to me that she had to fight to get her daughter not to wear another "boring princess, come and rescue me costume." Her daughter begrudgingly dressed as a witch, and only to match her best friend.

Class picture, SS still rocking the Captain America pose.

The kids were moved twice while in the field.  When they were about to be moved a third time I took this video to send P, to let him know that the parade was about to begin. Once the kids were lined up a third time I noticed the upper grade kids making their way back towards the school. I asked why were they moving away from the parade. Mrs. O, the aide, told be because the parade was over.  What parade? The short video below covered "the parade." WTH.

P in his minimalist costume but ready to trick or treat.

SS was in super hero heaven and would greet her "friends." "Hello Wolverine, Hello Hulk, Hello Iron Man. Do you like my shield?"

SS had a good time and still had plenty of energy when she arrived home. Poor P was past his expiration date. Earlier we had realized that he left SS's backpack and lunch bag at Nana's. There's no way he was going to drive there for them. SS has several backpacks around, and P scored a Lighting McQueen lunch box at the outlets for $2. SS is set until P can retrieve her things.

¡Feliz Día de los Muertos!

My baby, my guardian angel, and my super hero.

Things did not go exactly as expected, obviously since a ninety minute tops surgery turned into four hours. When I realized the time, felt the awful pain, and started to shiver, I really thought Dr. M had resorted to an incision. When we discussed the laparoscopic route, he made it clear that if the surgery would go over ninety minutes, he would go to plan B, huge incision, and a week in the hospital. But he expressed extreme confidence that it was highly unlikely. And since sometimes I'm my worse enemy, I did not prepare for the possibility of spending the night (toiletries and stuff). Nor did I prepare SS, which left P scrambling to come home, get a carseat, and prepare an overnight bag. Sorry Baby. SS's oversight was my fear of being away from her at that time. We have been together through rough times, and I do not like for her to be away from me. It is difficult for P to relate, because he returned to work within days of our return from China. But SS has been my shadow since we met.

I must admit that when the nurses were surprised about the thirteen adhesions, it went over my head. I was in too much pain to make the connection. Tuesday night was very difficult for both P and I. Nana brought SS over after recovery, I spent time with my baby, but too brief for me. SS was getting no where near me, she was scared, and really, can't blame the kid.  SS spent the night with her grandmas, and played with June Bug (their chihuahua), and Lambert, a friend's dog. I am always anxious about SS around animals, not because of SS, but concerned about the poor animals. This is the same child that made Grandpa's cat run away for two days. She was only two at the time, but darn.  Abuela was concerned about SS crying for us, probably recalling SS's monumental meltdown on I-5 after my first surgery. However, SS had a good time, got her dog fix (expecting the inevitable request for one soon), and although she was up by five, and had an emotionally draining day, did not go to bed until ten.  That is some serious stamina.

My guilt at the lack of preparation overrode my need to want company, and I asked P to go home early. He was past exhausted and I expected him to crash as soon as he made it to bed. I was in too much pain to catch any sleep. Their night staff was not as attentive. When the RN asked me my pain level, she stated it could not hurt that much, that it was probably just gas. Well, this was my third abdominal surgery, plus I'm old enough to know when I'm hurting. I had orders for morphine and percocet, alternating every two hours. It did not happen that night. At one point I waited ninety minutes for my pain med. I was lonely and hurting. I texted P when I knew he would be awake. He did not get any sleep either. I thought that by not having me tossing and turning, and not having SS kicking and punching him, he would get a good rest. Poor guy is too used to that abuse. Reality is that when things are tough, we just need each other. Even if my pain was under control, it would have been difficult to sleep. I've never been in such a loud floor, laughing, talking, and other noises I could not recognize.

Dr. M asked me if I wanted to go home yesterday, because I could stay longer. Hell to the no! He surprised us by apologizing for "overselling outpatient surgery." The stoma site hernia was a breeze to fix. But the upper hernia was troublesome.  He said he was surprised that I had not had intestinal blockage already. Go me! Then the third hernia he was unable to palpate during pre-op, was lower than expected, and there was something about the position that could have caused a lot of damage. He decided not to do a traditional incision because he knew about my previous hospital stays, and how difficult it was for SS emotionally. I guess it made an impression when SS broke down in his office. P thanked him for taking the extra time.

SS came home from her grandmothers' bearing gifts, talking about yummy night food (dinner), cocoa puffs for breakfast, and dog tales. P dressed her in her costume and the staff were going gaga over her. It made it difficult for Nurse Grumpy to bite P's head off for breaking the rules. Besides, what was he to do, leave her in the car? We came home, and did some serious cuddling in bed. Dr. M assured me that I would crash as soon as I got home. I so wish that was the case. P took SS to trick or treat at the outlets, where she saw many fellow super heroes, and would greet them like they knew each other.  I was not allowed to partake in the festivities because of the walking. Also, in a rare moment of responsible behavior, I did not give in to SS's pleas to sleep with us. I most definitely do not want more surgeries. We were so tired after SS's bath, dinner and bed, that we did not spend much time checking my mutilated torso. Quick showers, bed, and although no more than an hour collectively for me, P slept well.

This morning we took a closer look at said mutilated torso, and things fell into place. The plan was for two points of entry. Instead, I am sporting eight, Dr. Moore did not mention the extra six. It explains the level of pain, and it's made me even more hideous than before. OK, OK, the I'm alive thing, I get it. It just sucks to have not had a scar on my torso until three years ago, then bam. It really sucks.

P wanted to stay home today, but please, I took care of a two year old in diapers with an open wound, and carrying a wound vac. I will be fine with a potty trained, more self sufficient SS. The only hitch I expected, and it happened was SS's need to have me pick her up. Not going to happen, unless she loses twenty four pounds. I'm really proud of my guardian angel, she does an amazing job of watching over me. P also does an amazing job of taking care of me. The grandmas took great care of SS.  They also kept SS's mind off of hospital, surgery, and pain thoughts. For that we are grateful.

Up at 5:00 a.m., and still managed a smile. SS was a bit hesitant about my surgery this time.

Making sure that the information on my ID bracelet was correct.

Back to angry bird mode.

Double checking my IV, and with good reason, it was inserted in a weird, and painful position.

My gorgeous private nurse, who is beyond competent and very throughout. He offered me a quickie before he went home for the night. Talk about concierge medicine.

Captain America waiting for the discharge papers to be completed. She was upset she could not ride on my lap on the wheelchair. Then wanted to know if I would be bringing it home. I'm sure she had visions of wheelies in the back yard.