The Pod gave me a good tongue lashing today. "Why haven't you written in your blog lately, eh, bud? You really are a lazy git and a poor example for your daughter. What a future she has ahead of her with you at the helm, big man."
Oh, she was pissed... as though I had personally questioned her honour in Medieval times. If this were, in fact, Medieval times, she likely would have pulled off a glove and slapped me across the face with it. She was mad people. Mad.
At this point in my blog entry, I have a confession to make. I may have embellished the Pod's level of anger by a few degrees. She wasn't that angry. Actually, truth be told, there was no anger whatsoever. She just asked me why I hadn't written anything lately. But, for the purpose of my blog, this truth is a pretty week opening to my first entry in a week, so I lied a bit. To use an now-underused 80's slang term, 'Sue Me'.
My good people, the answer to my lack of bloggedness this week is simple. On Wednesday, the Pod had some minor surgery to remove some pesky gallstones. Apparently, gallstones are an unfortunate side-effect for many women after their pregnancies... kind of like leaky nipples, skin tags and migraine headaches. In the Pod's case, gallstones are also a genetic gift from her father's side of the family. I'll take detached earlobes over gallstones any day, but you can't argue the X's and Y's of life.
Since her surgery, the Pod hasn't been able to do any heavy lifting or exert herself too much. The surgery itself is fairly unobtrusive, but in the end they still poked around her abdomen like she was on an episode of Grey's Anatomy, so she needed some time to recover.
With the Pod on the mend, I have had a slightly heavier workload at home. The Pod can't pick up Pea, for example, so I've been more hands on with the little lady. Bathing her is more difficult, we have to rig a contraption out of pillows to breastfeed her, and last but not least, I have spent some horrible nights trying to get (and keep) Pea to sleep at night.
I have come to a conclusion. Life is really hard on the partners of people with gallstones.
I know what you're thinking... 'Ricochay, the Pod just had surgery for God's sake... suck it up and be a man'. My response? This is hard! Can you imagine having to take care of a child, for several hours, IN A ROW, with very little help? Changing diapers, taking off dirty clothes, putting on clean clothes, entertaining with countless song and dance routines, waving for hours and hours on end, handing over Cheerio after Cheerio only to watch 95% of them be thrown to the ground with veiled malice? This is SO hard people!
Wait... what?... oh, c'mon, no way... yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that's exactly what all women go through while they are on mat leave... puh-lease... c'mon, for real, it's really like that?... yeah, but I bet they complain all the time... no?... they never complain... huh... interesting... and there are single moms who do this solo all the time?... wow...
If the Pod hadn't slapped me across the face with a glove before this entry, she's likely to after reading it.
All sarcastic wit aside (and I sure hope you sensed the sarcasm), I have gained a whole new level of respect for the Pod since Wednesday. I've had to do, for 4 days, what she has done all day/every day for the past 10 months.
So, to all mom's out there, you rock harder than a gallstone.
I may not know what I want my Pea to become, but I hope she doesn't inherit the gallstone gene.
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