1. It me, the lady with 29 children and PCOS. Welcome. And, yep, that’s the definitive diagnosis. I feel oddly vindicated. If you’re an avid reader of this here page of ramblings, then you know I have been telling my Drs for years and years and years that I have PCOS. Every doctor I’ve told this has responded something along the lines of “No, Michelle. Your reproductive system is like a swimming pool full of orbeez. People who don’t need help in that department can’t have PCOS.” False. You may suck my butt doctors of yore. I’m also relieved it wasn’t a tumor on my adrenal gland or one of the other myriad of things that impacts one’s lifespan. However, getting my hormones in check isn’t going to be a cake walk either. I gotta probably get real serious about losing weight (and PCOS makes that hard) and cutting waaaaaaay back on carbs. This is not what a lady of my stature and disposition wants to hear. Better than hearing you gon’ be dead soon, but painful just the same. The endocrinologist punted me to my OB for management. I have until September 22 before I can be seen, but when I go in for my oil change I’m gonna have a long talk with her about my options. The kitchen’s closed, so I’m really up for anything that will even out my hormones and keep me from morphing into Sean Connery as I skid right into menopause. I’ll keep you posted. You know I will.
2. The kids and I went on a tour of Cave of the Winds today. We’ve lived in Colorado Springs for 6 years cumulative almost and it’s one attraction we have yet to do until today. Being that I hail 4 hours-ish from the Swiss cheesiest of land, I was underwhelmed with the cave. I have toured dozens of caves in my day. There is not much happening in that dry ass cave that can compare to standing in pitch black at Ruby Falls to BOOM! a light show worthy of Disneyworld and a 145 foot waterfall. If it was your first cave tour, it would have been aight. There was an original Edison lightbulb in one of the rooms. There was also a story about two mouthy spinsters that gave me a chuckle. Other than that, the most exciting thing that happened was when the tour guide went Full Metal Jacket on the cherub faced and often doofused Jack. She had JUST said that the wall was man made and that we could lean on it. We were in a tunnel so Jack had a 50/50 chance of saddling up to lounge town on the correct wall. Vegas is not in the cards for us anytime soon. He picked a greasy stalagmite to John Wayne lean and Cat (like the animal) knocked over 4 small children and 2 retired folks like bowling pins to stomp down in her hiking boots and shine a light in his eyes like he just confessed to being Ted Bundy’s number 2. She yelled in his face (like inches away- what happened to social distancing, Gina?) that this was not like Disneyland and that he should never touch anything ever again or she would stick her boot so far up his butt he’d taste shoe leather next Tuesday. Ok. She didn’t say that last part that I know of. I told him to just take his tongue lashing and we could move along as it’s her job to scream in the faces of 10 year olds in a subpar cave system. I’d be mad too. She was truly so mean and over the top that it was comical. Jack did not cry (surprised me) and I did not soil myself (also surprising) and no one touched any natural artifacts for the rest of the tour and we all went on to live happily ever after- except Cat who missed her calling as a drill sergeant and is clearly very sad about it. Before the tour, I gave the kids a briefing about our expectations and made a joke that Cat had a satchel of kid tears around her neck as she was wearing some bizarre leather pouch. Looking back on that comment makes everything funnier now.
3. Tomorrow 75% of my kids are getting shots and I am the lone parent in the wrestling ring. If you’re thinking about me tomorrow morning, ask that Jesus bless my muscles with beefiness from all the bonus testosterone so that I may hold all of my children down at once.
drewonpaper.com 