He’s Lost His Eff-ing Mind

Being in the medical field, people I know often come to me with health related questions. Sometimes I can tell people are using me to gauge how crazy their symptoms are before they go to their real healthcare provider. And by “people”….I mean my husband.  

First off, I’m about 2 classes and 100 clinical hours short of my PEDIATRIC nurse practitioner degree. My husband does not fall into the pediatric specially or that would be super creepy. Today he tells me, “so sometimes my left knee feels wet. Not all over, just like a 2cm square area.” 

😶

In pediatrics, if a child tells me their left knee feels wet, there’s a 99.99999% chance this child has what is called “grabaShoutWipeSTATbecausethiskidhastheREDcherryjuiceboxtheywerejustdrinkingontheirleftkneeseriouslywhoinventedjuicebox-itis”. 

But my husband can usually handle his juice boxes without spilling so I needed to dig deep into my nursey nurse brain for this one! I’m relatively sure he’s going to make it through the night.

In his defense, the first time I met him I told him he had cancer. Not in those exact words. In these exact words. He had a sore on his eye and he says to me.

Him-“Don’t mind my eye, I’ve had this sty for like a year now.”

Me-“Oh really?” First date, mind you. Met on a dating website, first time seeing him in person.

Him-“Yea sometimes I think I pick it in my sleep because it will like bleed or scab over or something, but it just never heals.” And all the nurses reading this sing in harmony (B🎶C🎶C)

Me-(realizing he had asked me on this date because he knows I’m a nurse and he wants my opinion on his eye) “So have you talked to your doctor about it?”

Him-“No, do you think it’s something big? Like it’s not cancer……..is it?”

Me-He’s cute, I better use nice but strong words so he goes to the doctor and gets this taken care of. “There’s no way of knowing without a biopsy of the area, which would have to be done by your doctor. But this is a valid symptom your healthcare provider would want to see you about.”

Btw, telling a guy to get his basal cell carcinoma taken care of can earn you some brownie points cause that boy put a ring on it!

 Do yourself a favor and Google sty. I like how the Internet is moving away from the basic race and gender neutral stock photo people. But this guys creator could have dialed down the stalker/hitchhiker look just a smidge. 

Hello My Name is “Her et al.” & I am a Dance Mom

 

She’s 8 and will be completing her 6th year of dance in a few weeks. I love to watch her dance. In the beginning, it was fun. I watched her run in her tap shoes because it sounded funny. I remember looking in and seeing all 8 five year olds making faces at themselves in the mirror and comparing wiggly teeth. 

Fast forward and the mirror is where she checks her form and spacing and whatever and she no longer runs in tap shoes (although she did break an arm running in tap shoes.) Still in their big room with psychedelic painted walls and rows of barres, comparing wiggly teeth. 

  
She finds fun in dance in different ways now. She thinks it’s fun in the studio, 10-12 hours a week. All the moms (including myself) just drop them off and leave now because no one wants to hang out in there alone for 3 hours straight. It’s not fun for me anymore and it’s way more expensive now. 

But here we are, on the cusp of competitive team. More money, more time and she couldn’t be more thrilled. I don’t wanna do it anymore. 

“I stuck”-Occupational Hazards of Being a Toddler 

 In honor of my 2 year olds birthday today,  I’m releasing a collection of photographs over the last year. These pictures are from actual events in which she has been stuck or has claimed to have been stuck. The first picture is my favorite because of the irony written on her onesie. She was “stuck” in her toy basket. 
Stuck trying to rip her clothes off. 
Stuck in her dolls stroller. 
Stuck backwards in her dolls stroller 
Stuck in the chair getting a haircut. 
Somehow stuck in this position against the wall. 
That pesky toy basket has a hold of her again. 
Stuck while climbing on the table she’s not suppose to be climbing on. 
And finally…legitimately stuck in her jumper. One leg in, one leg out. God, thank you for writing her into our world!  

Princess Kate Had Her Baby

Hear ye! Hear ye! I’d like to remind everyone that even princesses have to deal with the 1st postpartum poop. 

Now, why is it NO one warns of this before you have a baby? For some reason, mothers seem to think it’s their right to scare the crap out of first time pregnant mommys with horror stories. “The baby can get stuck on its way out and they have to push the baby back in, run you to surgery, cut you from hip to hip, and rip your baby out!” But that rarely happens. Now the postpartum poop, that happens to EVERYONE! Including princesses.

I assume her mesh panties are couture and hold hand woven pads larger than her newborns diapers. Probably Jenny Packham also!

Heres a link to buy your own since I’m a good blogger and that’s what we do.

https://www.google.com/shopping/product/4801139655051861018?q=mesh+panties+postpartum&client=safari&hl=en&biw=320&bih=460&dpr=2&prds=paur:ClkAsKraX84Y7DHGEKHRTHselh7u5iCIREIBaPv9FL1XHDW5RczODVUSLFEyyoxMU1Q7ok6d3znyDDp389JYpACpkjeL-aKxfIKkLZQP-9CrP5v25fcClSuOnhIZAFPVH71j1iIobu0QrvVNPhHy2kgqvVeIyg&ei=fsdGVY6IBsTAtQW-hYAo&ved=0CIACEKYrMAc