It is rare that I participate in these Fly on the Wall posts, even though it is one of my most favorite challenges to read. I just feel like our household rarely has enough interesting stuff, to fill up an entire post. So, I decided to participate, and then I spent two months, not just one gathering material. Part of me wishes we had more a more funny, eventful household, but part of me is grateful that we don't. I am not sure I could keep up otherwise. I hope you enjoy the glimpse into the Bergham household.
This is a text between Chad and I:
Ended up in potty with more blood. So much pain. Need you to empty the vacuum that charges in the hallway. I vacuumed the kitchen and living room. Now, I'm REALLY in pain. Ugh. Oh well. Kid fed. Dishes done. Cake pan washed. Vacuumed quite a bit. Prednisone is one hell of a drug. I'm dying. So much pain. Blood pouring out my butt hole. Nauseous. BUT the kitchen is clean and floors vacuumed. Might even help clean the ambulance, as they drive me to the ER.
You're funny. I guess we can have the wake at the house.
Definitely. Just make sure everyone takes off their shoes.
Another test between Chad and I:
She's asleep. Been out about five minutes.
Cool. I'm watching Homeland.
OMG! You cheating bastard!!!
You're a season or two behind.
So!!! Plus, I don't think I am. I wouldn't be if you'd STOP CHEATING!!! If you cheat on me with Grace and Frankie, GoT, OITNB, or The Resident... I WON'T forgive you!!!
(For the record... I am now officially caught up on Homeland, and we are now watching it together again, unless he is cheating on me behind my back again, which is possible. He is obviously a big, old, stinky cheater!! Also, I was only half a season behind!!!)
Another text between Chad and I:
Me (randomly at 3:57 am):
Hate your guts, you cheating bastard!!
Chad (4:07 am): What's up?
Chad (9:08 am): Good morning.
Me (with no enthusiasm, still upset): Hi.
Chad: How are you feeling?
Chad (five minutes later): Did I cheat in a dream?
Me: Yes. Shhhh. (Now, for you to understand.... If ever I text shhhh... That is my way of saying I have a migraine, and I am just not into texting at the moment. Just so you have a bit more understanding... I was recently told I could no longer take my migraine medicine. Unfortunately, I had to be placed on a new heart medication, and of all the medicines I take (either daily or as needed) the one that interacts negatively with it, happens to be the one I would NEVER EVER want to give up... My beloved migraine medicine. So, the last several migraines I have had, I have had to basically bear with it, and just push through. I can take pain pills and my tension headache medicine, but they don't really shorten it, but do make it slightly more bearable.)
Me (five minutes later):
Turned off ringer, but notifications still on.
Okay. Did have a half naked guy a little while ago.
Me (fifteen minutes later):
You're basically dead to me, Cheater.
Okay. Who was it?
I don't know. Cheaters don't often tell, Cheater.
You've got $38 to spend on Amazon. I cashed in my reward cards.
(So, if you have connected these dots... Chad, who does not cheat in real life, and never would, has to deal with my genuine anger when he cheats in my dreams. Plus, I get genuinely upset when he cheats on TV shows, which is the only cheating he would probably ever do. I have given him the silent treatment over his dream cheating. The first time it happened, which was the worst cheating dream I have had, I not only cried hysterically, but I punched his arm. Poor guy. Though, it may just be a good thing. He is probably so terrified, that he would really never cheat for real, for fear of how I may react.)
Another text between Chad and I:
There's another package of turkey in the fridge. On my way home.
(So, I called him, and asked him if he would please stop at the Dollar Store. I need a couple of things, and also asked him to grab me a Code Red Mountain Dew, because I had a craving for it.)
No Red Dew. Want a coffee? Or Boobs?
Boobs? What is that even a typo of?
Well, what if I want boobs?
Yeah. Boba is good. Thanks.
Gigi: I really love Bob Marley.
Me: Aww! That makes me so happy. I really love him too. Only I did not realize how amazing he was, until I was teenager. I am glad you are learning early.
Gigi: I really love him. Just looking at him is making me have tears. *looks up at the large picture of him on our living room wall*
Me: Aww! Well, I bet if he knew you, he would love you too. You have a good heart, and that is important.
Gigi *starts crying*: Oh, Mom, I love him. Why did he have to die??
Me *starts crying and pulls her into a hug*: I don't know. Stupid Cancer!
Gigi *holding me tightly*: Yeah, stupid Cancer!
After we hugged for a bit, we turned on our Bob play list, and had a dance party.
I am so grateful that she loves Bob so much. It makes me proud. I especially enjoy getting to have conversations with her about equality and loving everyone, and rejecting hate.
Me: Ugh. I hate my guts.
Gigi: What? Why?
Me: Well, because of this abdominal disease, my guts hurt and make me sick.
Gigi: Oh. Yeah, I hate your guts too.
Me: Aww. Thanks. I hate my rotten guts.
Gigi: Yeah, I hate your rotten guts.
Me: I love your guts.
Gigi: I love your guts.
Me: Such a love hate moment.
(We are in the waiting room at my doctor's office.)
Gigi: Where did Daddy go?
Me: He went to the restroom really quick.
Gigi: Oh. I am so tired.
Me: Well, it will be bedtime before you know it.
Gigi: I am just so tired. I think I need to rest.
Me: Okay. Well, sit down and rest.
Gigi: Well, I need a lot of rest. I think I should go to the rest room with Daddy.
Me *realizes what is going on*: Oh! *laughs* Oh! *laughs*
Me: You do not rest in a restroom. You go potty and wash your hands. Restroom is another name for bathroom.
Gigi: Oh. Well, why do they call it a restroom? That makes no sense.
Me: I honestly don't know. I just know that restroom is another name for bathroom. So, why don't you just sit down and rest a bit?
Gigi *starts back to dancing*: Oh. I don't need rest. I am full of energy. I drank a lot of water earlier.
(So, I have been hooked to a heart monitor for the past few weeks. I hate it. I really, really hate it.)
Me: I am so sick and tired of these wires. I hate this silly monitor. I hate the wires. I hate the box digging in to my boob. Ugh! Look, Gigi, look at this. *points to the marks on my boob, where the monitor box has left an imprint*
Gigi *looking*: Wow. How did it do that? It drew a picture on your boob.
Me: Yeah, sometimes things will leave an imprint on your skin, and it is kinda like it draws a picture.
Me: It is not cool. I hate it. I want to just take it off. I wish I could, but then it would not be reading my heart beats, and they would get upset.
Gigi: I have a good idea.
Gigi: I can wear it. Then it can read my heartbeat.
Me *laughing*: I can't put it on you. They would get your heart information and it would mix with mine, and it will confuse them and make them think I have some weird heart thing, and then I will end up getting heart surgery.
Gigi: Heart surgery? They will touch your heart?
Me: Yep. Touching it is part of surgery.
Gigi: That is so cool. I think you should get heart surgery and I should watch.
Gigi: What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Me: Oh, no reason. *mentally makes note to never sleep too deeply around Gigi*
So, I have had a lot of trips to the doctor/hospital in the past few months. Between the Mesenteric Panniculitis, the abdominal abscess, my heart issues, and the pneumonia... Yes, lots of visits to the hospital and doctor offices. This has also led to me needing several IVs, blood draws, and injections. Those all meant I had lots of gauze taped on my very hairy arms. I cannot remove the tape myself, and have recruited Chad to do it, and it hurts to have the tape ripped off. Well, this excites Gigi, and she has officially nominated herself to be the official bandage/tape remover. She seems to quite enjoy it.
Me: Chad, can you come take this thing off.
Gigi: NO! I will do it!
Me: Um. Okay.
Chad: Yeah, let her do it.
Me *holds my arm over to Gigi*: Okay. Be careful. Make sure you rip it all the way off, so you don't have to do it twice.
Gigi *with a huge grin*: Okay. *reaches and grabs the corner of the tape*
Me *jerks arm away*: Okay. Okay. Well, wait. Let me prepare.
Gigi: C'mon, Mom. Just let me do it.
Me *holds arm back out*: Okay. Okay. Just do it.
Gigi *takes hold of the tape and pulls it off, while laughing and grinning*
Me: Ow! Ow! Ow!
Chad: Well, she did it.
Me *looking at Chad with a knowing look*: Yeah, and she enjoyed it.
Chad *looking back at me with a knowing look*: Yeah. She is going to be good with the medical things.
Me: Yeah. Medical things. She could go one of two ways. It will be really good or really bad.
Chad: Yeah. Doctor or *mouths serial killer*.
Me: Yep. We just need to be sure she is a doctor.
Gigi is so intrigued by the human body and how it works. She has said for a while now, she wants to be an astronaut doctor. As she gets older, and is more intrigued by how the body works, and has taken an interest in Cancer, and wanting to find a cure for it... I genuinely think she just may grow up to be a doctor. She is also obsessed with space, stars, the Moon, and planets. So, I could totally see her wanting to be an astronaut. I just hope my body can keep it together long enough, for me to see how it turns out.
Here are the other homes you can buzz around in this month: