As you may recall, my cousin Ethan graduated high school last week.
I was a little nervous taking Greta to the ceremony for equal parts
it being her first crowd experience
and because the ceremony is really nice
(a la private school - no blow horns there)
and really long
(or should I say... personal...
they read a 2-5 minute blurb about every senior which is nice but made for a looooong service).
Thankfully when God created me, He didn't just leave me as a worrier
but coupled that worry with some planner as well.
I timed GG's feeding perfect to make it through the bulk of the ceremony
and packed the diaper bag with everything under the sun just in case.
Greta did great.
I really didn't need to worry as much as I did.
She slept through most of the ceremony and when she did wake
I just popped a paci in her mouth and she chomped away like the champ that she is.
The awkward part of this story came when
during the ever so intimate portion of the ceremony
where the head mister read of the personal accomplishments
and defining characteristics of each student
as they stoond before the audience awaiting their diploma,
GG LET IT RIP!
It was so loud I was sure everyone in the balcony heard
but as I looked around no one seemed to notice
but one man across the aisle.
When he heard what must have sounded like a freight train
he turned in our general direction with a concerned look on his face.
We made eye contact and that was that... I lost it.
He started laughing but
I was shaking so hard from laughter
that I thought I might drop Greta on the floor.
Finally, I calmed myself
and excused us from the ceremony.
We headed straight to the ladies room where I explained some manners to my little miss.
Also awkward is that fact that I had a "pregnancy tumor"
sprout on my tongue the day before Greta was born.
At first, I thought I might have just eaten too many sour patch kids (as if there is such a thing)
and overloaded my taste buds,
as my sweet tooth was pretty ginormous in the late days of pregnancy.
But, as this growth clung to my tongue for several days after GG's birth
and for several days after that it became larger, I started to worry.
I googled and googled and had pretty much convinced myself I had tongue cancer
and then this happened while I was eating one night...
So, I, bloody-tongued and all, Facetimed my uncle,
who just so happens to also be my dentist,
and asked him WTH was going on with my bud?
He first told me to put a wet tea bag on the bleeding lesion
(which stopped the bleeding immediately)
and then reassured me that my tumor was benign and
due to hormones.
He said it should go away on its own over the course of 6 weeks
and prescribed my the nastiest, grittiest gel to apply to my tongue several times a day.
Now, that I am 6 weeks postpartum
I am finally watching the growth disappear.
But, seriously body...
on my LAST day of being pregnant,
you really had to decide to go ahead and pop out a pregnancy tumor.
Thanks a lot.
You know what's awesome though?
Having the ability to sing someone to sleep!
My voice is as sweet as vinegar
and my rhythm as smooth as sandpaper.
But for some reason my baby girl is comforted
when I squawk at her, so squawk at her I shall.
Another awesome moment of our recent past
occurred while walking in the park.
Alex and I were conversing as we often do on walks together,
when I saw it.
My jaw dropped and I had no words.
A game of lair had just concluded
and people were standing around in their medieval costumes
holding foam swords and shields.
My disappointment that the game was over
did not overshadow the feeling that I had stumbled upon a treasured gem.