This morning my son had two wisdom teeth removed. They hadn't broken through his gumline yet, so this was actual surgery and they briefly knocked him out for it.
We stopped briefly for a milkshake breakfast on the way home and he was asleep on the couch within minutes.
All day long my energy level has been similar to his, or perhaps slightly lower, with much less excuse.
Tomorrow and Saturday my daughter is taking her pony club HB examination, in Greenville, South Carolina (saints be praised--she was originally scheduled for Chesapeake, VA, which is an 8-hour drive away instead of a 3-hour drive). This is her first national-level pony club test. She's been spending the day getting all her records and plans finalized, and, I believe, is still in her pajamas.
I'm not in my pajamas. People look at you funny if you take your child to the oral surgeon wearing pajamas. Also, Bristol is resolutely a small town; my son's OR nurse turned out to be a friend, who in addition to giving me all my son's post-op instructions also asked if I'd made my writing deadline. If I show up at the doctor's office in pajamas without arriving in the middle of the night in an ambulance, I'll probably make the newspaper.
I'm not getting back into jammies until after I've done the barn chores. But we're all enjoying a low-motion day. Sleep is the word.
We stopped briefly for a milkshake breakfast on the way home and he was asleep on the couch within minutes.
All day long my energy level has been similar to his, or perhaps slightly lower, with much less excuse.
Tomorrow and Saturday my daughter is taking her pony club HB examination, in Greenville, South Carolina (saints be praised--she was originally scheduled for Chesapeake, VA, which is an 8-hour drive away instead of a 3-hour drive). This is her first national-level pony club test. She's been spending the day getting all her records and plans finalized, and, I believe, is still in her pajamas.
I'm not in my pajamas. People look at you funny if you take your child to the oral surgeon wearing pajamas. Also, Bristol is resolutely a small town; my son's OR nurse turned out to be a friend, who in addition to giving me all my son's post-op instructions also asked if I'd made my writing deadline. If I show up at the doctor's office in pajamas without arriving in the middle of the night in an ambulance, I'll probably make the newspaper.
I'm not getting back into jammies until after I've done the barn chores. But we're all enjoying a low-motion day. Sleep is the word.
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