Stream of Consciousness | Fill Update | Lark is Funny

Voodoo Alice. 

Stream of coffee shop consciousness.  I put my credit card where my mouth is and order a gagillion bikinis from Boden, J.Crew (damn you, J.Crew, and your cute clothes on toothpick models) and Piperlime.  I even ordered a few string bikinis because I read somewhere that they can be a little more forgiving because you can adjust them.  I think a guy wrote that.  I probably ordered no less than 15 suits with the thought that one may work.  So here's my question of the day: How do these retailers make their business models work?

I'm an online retailers' worst nightmare.  I order lots of stuff in many different sizes and return 90% of it.  They've trained me to search for coupons or wait for one to show up in my inbox.  And I never pay for shipping.  I've never purchased anything from Piperlime and they wooed me with a 20% off + free shipping postcard.  Even Nordstrom's in on the free shipping and free returns game.  I've routinely ordered upwards of 10 different pairs of shoes only to pick one and return the rest.

I'd love to do a segmentation on online shoppers and see where I land.  I'd also love to really understand how online retailers make their business model's work.  They probably just load it into their cost of goods.  I'

All of this marketing and business model talk is making me lonesome for work.  I have to say I'm already feeling the itch to get back at it.  I'm going to wait to see what the story is with chemo before I put out the feelers for a new position.  If chemo is in the mix, I'm going to wait until it's done to start working, which would put me at the end of summer for a start date.

Tom and I figured out that financially we can go 8-months before I need to start working.  I figured out yesterday when I was ready to squeeze Alice just a little bit too hard that I'll probably want to go back sooner.  I'm such a better person, wife, mom, friend - you name it - when I'm working.  I'm also infinitely more productive and less likely to want to punch the kids when they're driving me nuts. Okay, if you've never felt like you've wanted to squeeze your kids really hard, you're not trying hard enough.

I'm clearly kidding.  And if you didn't know that, please stop reading my blog and sending out all of that negative energy my way.  Or poking that voodoo doll.  Which leads me to an explanation of the opening photo of Alice.

A few months ago Tom, Lark and I were chatting in the kitchen after dinner while Alice played in the other room.  She was very quiet which is usually an indication that she's doing her business.  After a certain amount of time, it's your parental duty just to make sure they're still there and not doing some to hurt themselves. Tom rounded the corner to the living room to find her with a box of toothpicks strategically sticking them into her doll.  Of course she was wearing a princess dress while doing it.  Tom called us in right away to see the disturbing, yet funny, sight.  We couldn't stop laughing and still have no idea how she got a hold of the toothpicks.  Oh yeah, now I remember, we keep the toothpicks in the easily-accessible-drawer-of- dangerous-things Alice shouldn't play with.  Note to self: remove knives, scissors and other pokey things from the drawer.  While I'm at it, pad the entire house so no harm will ever come of Lark or Alice.  Better yet, make them padded suits in cheery spring colors with helmets to protect them at all times - in or out of the house.

So much to do, so little time.

Fill update.  I had my first fill on Tuesday.  It was relatively uneventful but yielded some immediate results.  I could see my breasts getting bigger.  It's not everyday you can say that.  Dr. K. located the fill port on each side using a magnet and proceeded to access the ports using a needle connected to a GIGANTIC syringe holding 50ml of fluid.  I usually like to watch stuff like this as I find it fascinating, but this time I decided to do a little experiment to see how much I would feel.  The result?  I don't have any feeling in a band across my chest where the tissue was removed.  This conclusion was reinforced after I left Dr. K's office.  I was driving to pick up Lark at school and felt something cold on my left arm.  I looked down and saw that I was leaking fluid and that I had a big wet spot over my left breast.  I didn't even feel it.  Crazy.  I read somewhere that I need to be careful when taking a shower because I won't be able to feel the hot water on my chest.  Which leads me to the logical question: what type of freakazoid person tests the shower temperature with their breast?  Right?  Though it is possible, I suppose, to have have this happen:


Back to the leakage.  Fear not - it wasn't my expander leaking.  Dr. K removed some accumulated fluid from my breast after the fill. The leakage was just my very own fluid.  That sounds gross, but it's really not.

Lark is funny.  Her wit is getting quicker by the day.  I love it.  Here are a couple recent ones that have cracked me up:

The other day my mom and I were discussing cleaning bathrooms and what products we use.  Mom asked me what I use in my toilet bowl (how the hell do we get on such subjects?).  Lark chimed in, without skipping a beat, "Oh, we don't use toilet bowl cleaner, Grandma.  Our pee is antibacterial."

The day that Tom and I told her that I had been diagnosed with cancer and she was comfortable with the fact that I was going to live, she turned to Tom and said, "Man, Dad.  You have really bad luck with your wives."

Here's to finding humor even in the hard times. Cheers!