Shew. It's been a rough day, y'all. Nothing I didn't fully bring on myself though and nothing a good evening of mindnumbing TV and sleep won't fix.
I'm not going to the Cubs game.
I know. I hear you. It's sad. I can't BELIEVE I'm gonna miss it. Don't make me discuss MY FEELINGS about it because most likely very few of us would get out alive, or at least get out without weeping uncontrollably.
Without getting into the finer details, I'll just say I felt this was the best decision for all concerned, based on scheduling conflicts and familial (and otherwise) states of mind and body, and based on the tremendous weight that was lifted from my Puh-syche when I finally MADE the decision and discussed it with Al, it was the right one.
Doesn't make the whole not-actually-going part any less of a complete BUMMER, though.
Let's just not talk about it for a few days, okay?
Bean and I went to the dentist this morning. Do you have any idea how much blood pregnant gums can produce when jabbed with skinny, pointy, metal devices of torture?
I do. Hint: If Jaws creator Peter Benchley could've witnessed this scene, he'd have wished he'd thought of it first.
Yeah, THAT gory. And BONUS! Painful, too! And? Lying down flat on your back with your head lower than your feet? Not the ideal position to be in when your blood volume is that of a rhinocerous. On iron therapy.
I came home and took an involuntary 2 hour nap, sideways across my bed. And still, 7 hours later, I'm feeling a bit odd.
But it was Bean's first time getting her teeth cleaned and she did GREAT. No crying, only a little bit of "I'm SCAY-ERD!" and a LOT of smiling and laughing and asking of questions.
That kid makes me so proud.
And... they didn't show the first pitch at the Cubs game on TV. Boo. He said it was low and outside, but maybe would've gotten a swing. Good job, honey.
Oh, and Michael Johns sung the national anthem, too. I wonder if Al stood near him on the field?