After thirty-six days, all is well. I was feeling more settled yesterday and as the day wore on I noticed that my stomach was looking a little flatter.A couple of hours later I discovered why. It's amazing how intense the bloat gets -- the scale can vary as much as five pounds from one day to the next.
You know, I'm so done with the whole "peri" part of this peri-menopause. I'd like it to just pause already, thankyouverymuch. And thank you very much for listening to Sunday's rant.
In other news, it's becoming apparent to me that small boys bring home icky things. Last fall it was impetigo, and now one of my precious snowflakes has developed a most charming patch of ringworm on his arm. If it's not the bacteria it's the fungi apparently. And they're all out to get me. See, I can take vomit. I can take blood (good thing too because the Gum Zombie's nose is a veritable fountain of carnage at times). I can take just about any body fluid you throw at me, although I may make little gagging noises in the process. In the end, though, it's no biggie. I changed diapers for close to seven years straight, for crying out loud.
But communicable skin conditions? GACK!!! Yep, throw me something a bit scaly, oozy, and most importantly, contagious and I turn into a complete pansy.
Here's hoping the ointment works as described. If not, you may next find me huddled in the back of a closet with my iPad.
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