Just a big ole boob

Okay...got a sneak peek at the breast tests!

The surgeon's office here in town accessed my tests through radiology and gave me my results early...oh ya, I know people y'all. shhhhhhhhhhhhh.

diagnoses: dense breasts

Come'on now! Do I hear a "WOOT WOOT"!!!

Woot, Woot!
Here we go now!
Woot, Woot!
*insert happy dance*


I still have to go to my appointment because I may need to have this thing lopped off. But yippee that at least it's nothing serious!


In other Nicole news....


"A temper tantrum of epic proportions."
Last night, in the midst of teething, no napping and just all round crabbiness...my dad and I FOOLISHLY think it is a GOOD idea to actually leave the house with...

dun dun dunnnnn

Katie.

Um, ya. I don't learn. So happy, happy ice cream time turned into a full on melt down and not from any drippy cones.
I do NOT want my kid to the one running around the Dairy Queen, watching people eat (oooh, I hate that), climbing the benches, screaming or screeching (or both), laying on the floor and doing all things naughty. Nope, not my kid please.
Oh ya, that was so my kid!
Nightmare.

If it was bad, she did it. I was trying to get her to sit in the chair, eat, smile and not make me die a miserable death due to lack of blood to my extremities. Every last drop of blood, in my cheeks. Red. Crimson red.
So there is my Katie, laid out on the dirty DQ floor. Sobbing and crying and sobbing and crying. I ignore her and munch on my burger. Thinking...

"How fast can I scoff back this burger & get to the car before I actually loose in front of all these people?"
"Stop staring at me you idiots!"
"Eat your damn burger dad. Huuuuuurry!"
"Yup, she is totally going to bash her head on the floor and I'm going to have to clean up the blood with wee DQ napkins"
"great. snot everywhere"
"anyone got a gun? anyone? anyone?"

So after our 30 second meal I drag her by her arm (surely pulling it out of its socket) and head directly to the car.

As we leave, Katie gives everyone this big ole grin and says:

"Byyyyyyye! Byyyyyyye!"
*insert queen wave*

Yup, says good-bye to everyone in the restaurant as though nothing had happened.
Ooooooh, the nerve of a toddler!





Bailey, gunsliger of the Wild West
I had gotten home from the gym this morning and thought that since it was 2'c (ya!) I would take Bailey to the "park" and throw her the ball. So I load up fat Bee and off we go.
The "park" is actually a dirt road behind our house where the neighbors let their dogs run off leash. Bailey has too much girth to run but enjoys a good ole game of 'throw the ball'.

On the first throw we loose the ball. Seriously, what dog cannot sniff out a ball in a 3 inch snowdrift? So there's me, digging in the snow, probably in pee, looking for the damn fluorescent yellow ball.
No luck.
Since its a sheet of ice and Katie has done more that one face plant I have an idea.
Let fatso run beside the car. I've never done this before...for obvious reasons but there is no way I'm taking Bailey home hyped up with no exercise.
So Katie and I get in the car.

"Come'on Bee. Run! Go Bee, Go!"

Bailey, standing at my door. Head to the side. "Huh?"

I start moving an inch.

Bailey darts in front of the car. Stands there looking at us.

"Run Bee!"

Looks at me.

"Run Bee!"

Looking.

Oh for the love...of coarse Katie thinks this is hilarious and is laughing so hard I swear she peed her pants.

How do I get this dog to run and not sit in front of my car? I inch forward, she doesn't back down. It's a Western gunsling. Me verses Bee.

Dee deedee deeee...waaaah waaaah waah
Dee deedee deeee...waaah waaaah wAAAH!


Okay, did you get my western music bit there?

So she didn't move. I had to load her up and take her home...super sad, super hyper.
Honestly, did you know that there were some sort of skill required to get your dog to run along the car? I didn't.


So that's it folks.
Stay tuned next week for details of my anniversary date. Hubba Hubba!

later gators!