It's Not a Tumor!

Last October, right before my birthday, I went in for my yearly eye exam.  I got the whole shebang: glaucoma test, dilation, visual field test.  That's the one where you put your head in this kind of space egg thingy and click a buzzer every time you see a little flash of light.  It uses magic and computer programming to map out your vision and show any blind spots. 

Imagine my chagrin when I failed the visual field. At first I just chalked it up to crappy genes and encroaching old age, but my kind doctor informed me that there shouldn't be significant changes in the visual field unless you have glaucoma or an eye injury.  Then she said, "It might be (insert scary medical term that means BRAIN TUMOR here).  You need to come back in three months for a re-check.  If it continues to get worse, you will need to see a neurologist.  But don't worry about it."

Yeah, right.  Happy birthday to me!

I had to have several awkward conversations that went something like, "Guess what!  I might have a brain tumor!"  To which my husband/sisters/friends looked at me blankly and waited for the punch line.  Good times.

Luckily, the crazy holiday season did a pretty good job of keeping my mind off of it.

So today was the day of the big re-exam.  It's not a tumor!  My test came back consistent with all the visual field tests I had taken before last October.  That test was an anomaly.  It could have been that my eyes were dilated, or that I was dehydrated, or hormonal.  Whatever.  All is well now.  Whew!

Trailer Trash

The ranch has been in the family for about ten years now.  So it has been ten years since we set up our base of operations: a mobile home.  A very nice mobile home (Seriously!  It looks just like a house on the inside with drywall and everything!), but a trailer none the less.  Well, the ranch is in west Texas - the land of no trees.  There are wind farms down the road from us.  In a word: windy.  Very windy.

All that wind has started taking its toll.  We have lost a shingle or two.  The time has come for a little maintenance.  My father-in-law was planning a trip to the home improvement store to pick up some replacement shingles.

Now, my FIL is an eminent physician.  A pioneer is his field.  Before he left for the store, he turned to us and asked without a hint of irony, "Do you think we should put some tires up there to hold the shingles down?"

I just about died laughing and then realized he wasn't joking.

Transition to redneck complete.

Finding Balance

Lest you think this is some high minded new year's resolution post, um, nope.  If that is what you are searching for, move right along and I'll catch you next time. This here post is about MAH BAYBEE!

It was a banner day at Casa Critical Mass yesterday.  It was the day that I took the training wheels off of Z's bike.  As soon as I got them off she just took off down the driveway without a care in the world.

I can't believe my sweet baby girl is big enough to take off on two wheels!  I am so proud!  And also, quit growing up so fast!  You are my little girl!  But with every day she gets a little more independent and I get glimpses of the person she will be some day.  Sob!  (Sunrise, Sunset playing softly in the background.)

Ahem.

About the time she got to the end of the driveway, she went, "Oh, wow!  I don't have training wheels!" and "I don't know how to turn!" and had a mini panic.  The more she thought about it, the more wobbly she got.  All of a sudden, she was pushing herself along with her feet instead of pedaling.  Maybe college isn't so close after all.

I was really proud of her determination to master this new skill.  Since we took the trainers off, she has clocked about 100 miles around the driveway and the bottom of the cul de sac.  Now she is begging to take a longer bike ride around the neighborhood.  That's my girl!

Thinking Small

So.  December happened.  Wow.  Holy over commitment, Batman!  Even though I got all of my shopping done well in advance, we barely managed to get the tree decorated in time.  Never the less, Christmas was great.  Kids had a blast.  Much food was consumed.  Great times with family and friends.  And then it was over.

Now it is that time of year when we feel the need to make resolutions.  Huh.

I don't currently have the mental wherewithal to make plans for an entire year, so maybe I will just make resolutions for this week.  Yeah, that sounds more manageable.

• Get out of bed.  I know this doesn't sound like much, but given the super-bug my kids gave me for Christmas, it is a SUPER big deal.  For the last three days I have been just this side of comatose while the kids were in school.  Staying awake when your body demands rest is more difficult than you would think.  Luckily, we were well stocked with mac and cheese and frozen pizza, because I couldn't manage any real cooking.
• Make a recycling run.  Wester doesn't have curbside recycling (DRAG!), but I still try to do my part.  The post Christmas packaging is taking over my personal garbage dump laundry room.  If I don't take care of it soon, my husband is going to have a planet-bashing hissy fit and throw it all in the dumpster.
• Clean the master bathroom.  It is just not right that I am required to dust my bathroom.  (My mom used to say that dust shouldn't happen to good people.  I couldn't agree more.)  But out here in the windy desert southwest, enough dust to write your name in accumulates over night.  Add some steam and hair products and you get almost instant yuck.
• Write two posts on this here blog.  Hey, already halfway there!  Chica is disgusted with my lack of writing, and I can feel my brain melting from lack of use.

That sounds like a manageable week.  Maybe.