The post-op appointment went well. As I lay back on the table to have my surgical support garments removed and the dressings checked, I choose to count ceiling tiles. A number of years ago I was with a friend during one of her post-op checks. She had a lot of trouble healing from reduction surgery, and that colored my expectations and worries for myself this past week. My surgeon, though, was very pleased at how it turned out. I'm healing well. The drains were removed and the dressings changed, and I've got approval to shower again. Yay me! I still have to hold off on underarm deodorant for a while, and that's why I may not be feeling so fresh during the next few weeks.

I've yet to walk along a beach at sunset discussing freshness with my mother, and oddly enough I feel okay with that. Does anyone else remember those commercials? My mom would always turn to me when they came on the television and made rude comments. While I've never hesitated to talk about anything with her over the past nine years or so, including Freshness, it's not something that brings up the desire to go walking on a beach at sunset.

No, I don't know how the first paragraph led into the second. That's a product of a slightly deranged mind and a rerun of South Park. Sometimes you just need to watch shows like that at the end of a really long day, and this is one of those times. My kids are played with, fed, bathed, and tucked up all snug in their beds while I'm getting the house set for tomorrow morning. The only thing left on my to-do list for tomorrow is to lay my own clothes out ahead of time. It's easier, because I don't have to worry about much. Fortunately the dress code of the stay-at-home mom is a simple one, and the school bus driver is very forgiving if I don't have my hair combed when I walk Tiffany out to the bus in the morning. After that it's a world of giggles with the little boy, and he's pretty forgiving as well. As long as his mom's willing to play peekaboo with him in the sunbeam, he really doesn't care what I'm wearing or how combed my hair is.