
After Sam was born I had a small bout of what I like to call "clinical insanity". I saw a sock on the ground and curled up in a ball, crying my brains out....for like a week. It was weird because I like to think I'm on the even keel with my moods. I know that things can get pretty messed up after one has a baby, therefore I can see the pattern now. Today was an almost-curl-up-on-the-floor-in-a-ball-and cry-for-a-week-day. I realized that no matter how diligent I am with laundry, sweeping the floor, picking up toys, making supper etc etc etc , I WILL NEVER BE CAUGHT UP. The house will not look like I want it. My back WILL be so sore that I can't pull up my socks. I will not be rested enough to not slur my words and carry on an intelligible conversation. (I think I made that word up, but I'm unsure of its origins)
This may all be a side effect of my lame-o gall bladder that formed its own stones to ensure an inevitable demise. Dumb organ that self destructs. Who needs ya? Not me! So, to those who have had gall stones due to pregnancy (or having the worst luck on the planet), I now understand the sheer terror of eating something you know you shouldn't. I didn't know something other than childbirth and falling down a ravine with sharp pokey rocks could be so excruciating. I will try not to eat anything fatty, and, barring that I will keep my allotted precious narcotics by my side. With that said,I will only dwell on the positive for the rest of the post: at least maybe not eating fats will help me lose my magical 20 pounds.





