We're in need of some comfort food around here. Well, actually, Pace'll tell you we need any food at all--the cupboards are pretty bare. Personally, I'd rather survive on leftovers and cereal before I commit to weekly shopping; others in this house don't feel the same way. Of course, "they" also don't have to shop with three kids. Just saying.
Thursday Gray and I spent the afternoon visiting with the ENT. We knew Grayson needed his adenoids out, but it was a surprise to hear he needs ear tubes, too. It makes sense now--the kid is half-deaf, and I just chalked it up to being 4. I didn't stop to think his ear canals might be under water. The highlight of the visit, though, was when the doctor put on his headlamp, peered into my nose, and was delighted by the finding of a bony growth that's not supposed to be there at all. It always makes them so happy to find something odd. That generally means surgery for the patient, though. So both Grayson and I will be having things added, removed, or repositioned in early April. I'm excited--I haven't been able to smell or breathe through my nose since '07. Grayson was born congested, so the thought of being able to breathe properly hasn't probably occurred to him yet. Caiden will be happy to have a bedfellow who doesn't snore. But just between you and me, I hate surgery, anesthesia, recovery, and pain. I'm a little bit scared. (If you've had sinus surgery and had a less-than-spectacular experience, do not tell me. We will not be friends anymore. Lie to me instead. I can't handle the truth, Tom Cruise!)
Then yesterday afternoon, in a spectacular feat reminiscent of a 1970s cartoon, Addie slipped on a piece of plastic and flew through the air, to land on her elbow. If she hadn't fractured it, she would've thought it was awesome. But she did, so she didn't. Instead, she screamed, I cried, Pace flew up the stairs to see what happened, and off I sped to the ER. I was hoping to get pulled over, so I could get a police escort to help me through rush hour traffic. It seems I only get pulled over when I don't want to.
We spent the entire evening in the ER, with nothing but the Food Network and about 35 texts from Pace to entertain us. Addie came home in a hard splint, sling, and hospital gown with orange cats on it, which we thought terribly cool. I have to call our ortho doc Monday and explain that the same child has broken a second bone in 7 months. How is it that our two boys have never so much as sprained an ankle, but our little girl has a penchant for breaking bones? I will say she's tough, though: she sat 4 inches in front of the TV screen, entirely mesmerized by Jeff Corwin's Extreme Eating episode on the Food Network. I gagged about 14 times, but she thought eating blood mollusks raw sounded just fine.
So last night, instead of going on a date with Pace, we ended up eating cold McDonald's at midnight. That might explain how the green shamrock butter cookies ended up in my cart. And the two bottles of Biscotti creamer, along with the Snickerdoodle coffee. And the glazed blueberry donut. And maybe the two frozen cheese-stuffed crust pizzas, too. Not that all of that made it home. The cookies may or may not have disappeared (into my mouth) during my drive back.
It doesn't matter that I can't really taste what I eat, or that our babysitter texted to say she'll babysit for free soon, so we can make up the lost date night. It doesn't matter that Addie says her arm doesn't hurt much, or that our surgeries aren't scheduled for another month. If I didn't have curtains to sew, laundry to do, and bills to pay, I'd let Calgon take me away, for the rest of the day. But I do, so I can't. So instead, I'm heading to the fridge for a tall Diet Coke, and I fully plan on pulling out the rest of the shamrock cookies. Sometimes a little comfort food can go a long way.