Ignorance Is Bliss

So I had the scary biopsy and I waited anxiously for the results and then I got the results - good results! - and everything was fine and dandy.

Except that it wasn't exactly fine and dandy. I just didn't know any better.

I met with the endocrinologist last week. I was expecting her to tell me we'd monitor my wonky thyroid. I was not expecting her to tell me I needed to have every single test (including the biopsy!) repeated.

It's kind of a long (boring) story but basically what it boils down to is this: I thought the good biopsy results meant no cancer but what they really mean is I don't have the most common type of cancer. The endocrinologist is concerned about a few things so she wants to rule out the second-most and third-most common types of thyroid cancer before giving me the all-clear. (And if I do get the all-clear for the cancers, we still have to figure out what's going on and what the treatment plan will be.)

I don't mean to sound grim. She was very blunt and forthcoming (which I appreciate! I do!) but in a reassuring way. Like, she scared the crap out of me but at least she didn't tell me that thyroid cancer is "the cancer to have." (Actual thing that was said to me during the last round of testing. Actually, sir, NO cancer is the cancer to have. Fuck you very much.)

I'm getting a bit cancery here, I know. It's entirely possible that my wonky thyroid is not cancerous. There is a very good chance that it is not cancerous. I just ... I go there. When something scary or slightly bad happens I go to the worst possible place. I think it's a coping mechanism. If I'm expecting the absolute worst I won't be surprised when it happens.

I didn't say it was a healthy coping mechanism. Probably it's healthier than my other coping mechanism of eating all the things. Get ready for a lot of Instagrammed shots of cupcakes in the coming weeks is what I'm saying.

On Blogging (Sorry)

Look, I know that blogging about blogging is, like, the lamest thing but I don't care. I'm curious about how you fit blogging into your life.

I used to have an office job that involved a lot of really intense work-heavy hours and a lot of fuck-around-on-the-internet hours. I fit my blog writing and blog reading into those hours.

Now that I work from home, when I'm working, I'm working. I try my best to stay connected through Facebook and Twitter but I'm doing a piss poor job of reading blogs and I miss it. I miss you.

So I'm curious: how do you fit blogging into your life? Do you have a set time where you schedule your blogging? Do you fit it in throughout the day using your smart phone? Do you sit in front of a computer all day and spend your breaks catching up on your blog reader? I'm struggling.

I use Google Reader but I'm not on my computer much (unless I'm working.) I tried using Feedly to access my reader on my iPhone but I couldn't figure out how to easily leave comments on blogs. Right now I'm pretty much only reading posts I come across in my Twitter stream. I feel like I spent years building up this really awesome community of people and now I'm losing it.

So please, help me out. Tell me how you fit blogging (reading and/or writing says the lady whose wrist is cramping as she types on a tiny phone screen) into your life.

Hair

You guys, my hair is driving me crazy. It has not been cut or coloured in a year. That is not an exaggeration. The last time I did anything to my hair was last February.

I need help.

Most days I just pull it up into a ponytail. I can't be arsed to do anything to it because a: I would rather spend my precious toddler-free minutes making coffee and b: I don't go out a lot. I mean, I go out. Grady and I go for a walk every day. I go to yoga. I grocery shop. But ... that's it.

Last night I went out with real adults. I took the time to do my hair. This is the result:

This is as good as my hair can possibly look. It does not get better than this. This needs to change.

I have always been pretty hopeless when it comes to hair. When I was mortgage and kid-free I used to spend hundreds of dollars every couple of months for a full head of foils and a style. Now I have neither the time nor budget for lengthy salon rituals (not judging those who do, I'm just trying to be clear. I know that my hair could be a lot better than it is now if I spent more time and more money on it.)

My last visit was a colour correction - I had been colouring my hair myself and I'd ended up way too dark. The stylist stripped the colour and added a few blonde highlights. I now have a year's worth of roots but they're not horrible. I mean, they're bad. Just not bad bad. I am kind of at a point in my life where I'm trying to be as chemical-free as possible so I'm trying to avoid colouring my hair (even though I totally have bastard grey hairs sprouting up all over the damn place.)

So I guess my question is this: should I continue to grow my roots out? Or should I get my stylist to colour my hair as close to my natural colour as possible? It feels like that could be a slippery slope - what if she can't match it and I end up with noticeable roots again in a few weeks? I will have undone a year of growing my colour out. I've been trying to pass my hair off as ombre (do people still do ombre hair? I am so old.)

Hello, awkward bathroom selfie

Adding to my anxiety is the fact that I don't actually have a stylist. I will be going to a new salon (excuse me while I panic.)

Look, I get it. It's hair. It's just hair. But it's also my hair. I want a new look. I want to like how I look. I want to be arsed to do something other than a ponytail every day.

When I look at myself, all I see is a giant forehead. I'm thinking bangs but I don't know ... are bangs a drastic step? I hate that I am spending so much time thinking about my stupid hair.

Tell me what to do! Please. Save me from thinking about this for one more second.

My hair is:
Fine (but I have a lot of it)
In between straight and wavy (with a few random curls thrown in to be maddening)
On the dry side of normal
Naturally dirty blonde / mousy light brown
Long (like, mid-back long)
Flat (because it's so long)
Fairly damaged on the ends (because nothing has been done to it in a year)

Please help me. I'm desperate. Like, so desperate I am considering just chopping it all off and starting fresh.

Sleep

Grady is not a good sleeper. He has never been a good sleeper. Shawn and I learned very early on that we needed to make changes to accommodate our fussy sleeper or live in misery. So we did.

And now here we are with an 18-month old who is still not a great sleeper. Scratch that - he sleeps perfectly as long as he is sleeping with someone. Which isn't a problem at night. Grady sleeps in our bed with us. Yep. Not really interested in debating the merits of co-sleeping with anyone but just let me say it's what works for our family.

The problem is naps. Grady does not nap unless he's being held. He will not fall asleep without being cuddled. And once he does fall asleep? He sleeps so lightly that if the cuddler tries to escape, there's a pretty good chance he'll wake up and scream and most days it's just not worth risking forfeiting the nap for the sake of an hour or two of free time.

I know we're lucky. We're lucky that this is the worst problem we've had with Grady. We're lucky that we don't have to force a cry-it-out scenario because I'm able to work part-time from home on my own schedule. We're lucky that we have similar views on raising our child and having Grady sleeping in our bed isn't a source of resentment. I know we're lucky and I'm not complaining - really, I'm not - I am just curious: what is your family sleep situation? Did you bed-share with your little ones? If you did, when did you stop?

And how do I get Grady to nap solo? I can only play Candy Crush one-handed on my phone for so many hours before I go crazy, people.

Results: Non Cancery

Thank you so much for hanging in with me while I fretted. It's been a tough ride but I think the worst is over.

Yesterday I met with my doctor and she told me that all signs point to benign. My thyroid is still wonky and I need to have further testing done but I most likely do not have cancer (they won't give me the 100% all-clear without actually biopsying the entire thing, which obviously can't happen unless they remove the entire thing.) It isn't a surprise, this further testing; I knew going in that after my biopsy results I'd move on to either an oncologist or an endocrinologist. Not having to see an oncologist feels like a major victory.

And now, because it's all over and the results are all good, I can tell you that Shawn was also waiting for results to see if he had cancer. It has been a FUN couple of months in our home, let me tell you. He got the all-clear yesterday morning and I got mine a few hours later. We're going out to celebrate this weekend is what I'm saying.

The timing was so odd - Shawn got his ultrasound results and found out he needed a biopsy literally the same morning I was having my biopsy done. My dormant superstitious side hates coincidences so I was halfway convinced that the timing meant we'd be that couple - you know, the one that you marvel over their bad luck while thanking the heavens you aren't them. So, while I was fretting over leaving my baby alone in this big, bad world I was actually fretting over leaving my baby completely alone in this big, bad world. I owe my older sister a giant bottle of gin for listening to me fret (and for reassuring me they'd be there for Grady instead of telling me to shut up and stop being such a drama queen.)

I slept soundly last night for the first time in weeks. I have a giant grin on my face this morning. I feel so so lucky. Happy Friday indeed.