I went in for the follow up with my endocrinologist today and we made a game plan and I got a little more info. basically, there are two reasons a person would have the kind of elevated prolactin I have. The most common is a small tumor on the pituitary gland. the less common reason would be a side effect of some specific drug that I have never heard of or had so that can be ruled out. Which brings us back to the brain tumor. It sounds scary, but it really isn't. Were talking about a few extra cells pushing on my pituitary gland just enough to make it crank out a little too much of this or that. Often they are too small to be seen on MRIs or CT scans and since we can pretty much assume it is there by process of elimination, the scans are really just for confirmation and to make sure that theres not something bigger than they suspect, but based on all of my blood work levels, its probably just a little teeny tiny benign thing that can be dissolved with medication. Also, the doctor started me on meds to counteract the excessive prolactin immediately so it may all work it self out. One sucky thing about the recent blood work is that my anemia is back. lame. I just spent months getting biweekly IV treatments of Iron and my blood count was back up and I was feeling fab. The Hematologist said that it was likely that once my body got back on top of things that I may never need treatments like that again, or possibly every year or two. I didn't expect my blood count to plummet this quickly. Don't worry, I'm all over it. Following up with the Hematologist and having a Endoscopy with the GI this week to be sure I'm not bleeding from ulcers and losing blood some crazy way like that. I suspect that it all just comes back to my body's stubborn refusal to absorb what it should through my gut. or that pesky brain tumor..who knows?

The whole brain tumor thing really is no big deal, but I feel compelled to milk it for all its worth, because really, who wouldn't? "Honey can you do the dishes? I have a brain tumor." I'm already planning on "sorry I need a sub to teach primary this week, its just that my brain tumor is really bumming me out." or how about "Foot long subs aren't five dollars until after four o'clock, and it is only three thirty? I'd be better able to deal with that disappointment if I hadn't just found out that I have a brain tumor today." or "kids, just go to bed a half hour early. Mommy has a headache and a brain tumor, so no fussing, k?" The options are limitless, really. In fact, I'm already mourning the day that they tell me my brain tumor is gone. It's already like my little pet that gets me out of volunteering in nursery and gives me an excuse to be absent from anything. Maybe I shouldn't reveal too much on the blog here, but get ready for some serious milking. I might even start doing things purposely odd, like wearing my bra on the outside of my clothes or speaking with a british accent, just to freak people out. I am willing to bet that there are some delicious relief society meals in it for me.

I already got a day of free childcare out of Cheryl today (as if she needs a tumor to serve someone) and I've got John offering all kinds of housework and foot-rubs. (incidentally, he does need a tumor to serve)

So, just like everything else in mortality, its all going to be okay, its just going to be a huge pain in the ass between now and then. They really should put that in the scriptures somewhere, because, really, doesn't it just sum up life.Here's D&C 122. pretty much my favorite scripture ever:

7 And if thou shouldst be cast into the ^apit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the ^bdeep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to ^chedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of ^dhell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee ^eexperience, and shall be for thy good.

8 The ^aSon of Man hath ^bdescended below them all. Art thou greater than he?

and then something in verse none that I somehow missed before: Thy ^ddays are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, ^efear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.

Really, what else do we need to know in times of trial? My days are known and my years shall not be numbered less.

Crappy Day

As part of my ongoing, seemingly endless health drama, I recently had a bunch of bloodwork done because even though I have improved overall, I still have a lot of weird symptoms. So the bloodwork came back with a lot of my "fancy hormones" at odd levels, but in particular a hormone called prolactin was so high it was off the charts. Like the normal range is between 10 and 20 or something like that and I was at like 72. My doctor referred me to a really specialized endocrinologist and ordered the same panel of blood work be done again to double check that the high result wasn't a lab error. The second set of tests came back with my prolactin in the normal range. So which one is the lab error? Of course the only thing to do is go back and do all of the bloodwork a third time. The results came back today and the stupid prolactin is off the charts high again. The normal one was the incorrect one. Not great news. The endocrinologist says that the most common reason for elevated prolactin is a brain tumor on the pituitary gland. They are sending me in for MRIs and all kinds of testing and it will basically be a process of elimination to determine why all of my hormones are so out of whack and then when they know more about what is causing it they can start figuring out how to treat it.

I spent a little bit of time googling it today and within about five minutes decided I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm sure everything will be fine and I really think my Endocrinologist is competent and it will all most likely turn out to be nothing big, but it was still not the kind of news I was hoping for.

Also today I found out some heartbreaking news about a close friend who is facing a lot of personal adversity and then right after that Jack came home from school having crapped his pants yet again. I wanted to just sit down and watch tv but the remote is totally missing. I figured I would read some blogs and veg out but discovered that my computer is totally broken. another nice surprise. I decided it would be theraputic to blog my crappy day so I borrowed Kristen's computer and that brings you to where I am now. Eating hot fresh buttery rolls and parmesan crusted shrimp and bitching to whoever will listen about my problems. Yes, the rolls and shrimp are almost good enough to counteract the depessing news of a possible brain tumor. Of course, if my mother is reading this I'm sure she will point out that refined white flour and butter are the very root of all health ailments but all I have to say is bon appetite. Carbs are all I got between sanity and total breakdown.

Heartwarming Milestone: Abe's First Joke

I used to post pictures on here but then I got this new stupid computer that I can't for the life of me figure out how to download pictures from my camera. Not to mention that my camera requires the user to have an IQ higher than mine. Everyone always raves about Mac computers, but I spend my whole time on the verge of screaming "JUST LET ME RIGHT CLICK." The transition from PC to Mac has been rough and I don't know if I will ever post pictures again. So, If you want to hear about what the Kramers have been up to, you'll most likely have to use your imagination or else come on over and hang out with us. If you go the imagination route, please picture me with muscular, yet feminine arms, thick hair and no freckles. If you come over, bring a bag of chips or something and avert your eyes from my flabby arms.

This morning I was asking the boys what they want for breakfast. Jack requested a bowl of Cocoa Krispies. Chocolate flavored cereals, or actually any super sugary cereal are a real problem around here. Jack and John are totally incapable of moderation when it comes to consuming them. Jack will demand Cocoa Krispies for breakfast lunch and dinner and snacks if they are in the house. If he is denied then it is guaranteed that a fit will ensue followed by hours of begging and obsessing. Usually I just make it a point to not buy the cereals I know are going to start a fight, and it solves the problem. He will eat healthy and well balanced meals. The problem is that Kristen who I like to call Queen of the Coupon, recently bought an entire pantry full of cereals that are off limits on the Kramer side of the communal living commune.

Kristen is my sister and my best friend and we live next door to each other and tore down the wall between the two backyards. The kids roam freely between the two households and it is the perfect set up. We can watch each other's kids all the time. There's always someone fun to talk to, and we usually take turns cooking meals and share everything. Actually, I can't imagine not living next to my sister. How does everyone else in the world get a shower?

Sometimes the commune concept has snags though. like when Kristen, Queen of Coupons, figured out how to ad match cereal to a price that is equal to a coupon she found. One week she ended up with probably 70 boxes of cereal for a few dollars. Of course, they were all sugar cereals so now my kids look at my offering of Cheerios, Bran Flakes, or Special K and then high tail it next door.

This week I made a deal with Jack that he could have one box of Cocoa Crispies from the Gartner's stash but only one bowl a day. I thought that they would be gone soon and that John would come in one day and save the day by eating the whole box in one setting and it would be over. Instead these Cocoa Crispies are like that story in the Bible where the woman gives her last bit of meal and oil to the stranger who turned out to be a prophet of God and after that, her barrel of meal and her jug of oil were never empty again. There was always just one more loaf of bread to be made. She never ran out. I don't know who Jack ever served this to, but I swear there is something supernatural going on here. The Cocoa Crispies NEVER run out. For me it isn't a blessing, it's a curse.

So this morning, Jack asked for his usual. When he said "Cocoa Crispies" Ham laughed and pointed and said in his two year old pronunciation Go Go Pee Pee, CO CO CISPEE. It kind of reminded me of a yo mamma joke without the yo mamma. He said it in this taunting, sarcastic way that was obviously to trash talk Jack. Abe and I laughed and laughed. I thought it was pretty good that he came up with the rhyme and the attitude. Jack was less entertained. He countered with the age old "me Chinese, me play joke, me go pee pee in your coke" of course, with his hands pulling his eyes back into his best asian impression. He didn't get why Ham's joke was a home run and his was a bomb. I'll admit that in my childhood I said this same rhyme and thought it was hilarious but this time I gave him a good long talking to about racism and sensitivity. Of course, he repeated the joke about four hundred times in the days that followed. I swear these boys are turning into adults before my very eyes. Its almost disturbing. Almost. Mostly it's just hilarious.

Timing is Everything

So Yesterday I had a strange experience. Actually a string of experiences that were all a huge pain in the butt but from which I learned a lot. I've been having a lot of that lately in my life. So, It was time to grocery shop because I was out of everything. John and Jack went away for the week to the beach in California for an air show and I enjoyed a glorious staycation here with Abe. It truly was glorious. I did whatever I wanted and If I didn't feel like doing it, I just didn't. Abe and I are the two members of this household who enjoy that approach so it was a truly restful week. But, grocery shopping is just not something I felt like doing while staycationing, so our cupboards were bare. John had the day off so I got to go to the store all by myself. Also it was payday and I had done a bunch of research on ad-matching and clipped coupons etc. and was ready to recharge my food storage. I like shopping with a friend so I called Kara Sly and asked her to tag along because I knew she was due for a shopping trip too. She wanted to come but was getting her kids down for naps, and jumping in the shower etc. so she said she'd head over and call me when she got there to see if I was still shopping.

One hour later, I had a couple of hundred bucks of food packed into a cart. The bottom was all packed, it was overflowing, and every nook and cranny was filled. Most of it was frozen or refrigerated stuff so I was trying to hurry so it would all stay cold. Of course when I wanted to check out, Every other human being in the store had the same idea and the lines were four or five carts deep.

While we are talking about the checkout lines at Walmart, I just want to know, Why do they even bother building all of those lanes if they have no intention of ever using them all at the same time? I have been there on Christmas Eve with hundreds of shoppers milling around in snaking lines to check out and still I have never seen even fifty percent of the lanes lit up at the same time. I want to stand on my cart and yell, "ATTENTION WAL MART EMPLOYEES, THIS IS NOT A DRILL! THESE ARE ACTUAL PEOPLE TRYING TO GIVE THEIR MONEY TO WAL MART. ALL HANDS ON DECK! OPEN ALL THE LANES!" Of course I would never do this especially since I have found that one's friendliness level is directly proportionate with the level of cooperation one receives in attempting to use Walmart's ad-matching policy liberally.

I have an uncle who claims that his cars are magnetically attracted to uninsured Indians. I feel this way about my shopping cart and customers paying with multiple forms of government assistance and using expired coupons and writing checks and haggling over every item. I also tend to get the check out lady who is brand new and has been abandoned without any training or help. All of these things were true yesterday and by the time I got all my stuff rang up I was dying to get out the door. Thats also when Kara called saying that she had just arrived. I told her it was too late, I was already checking out. We'd have to do something else together soon. peace, out.

Then I swiped my card and it was DECLINED! This has never happened to me and I was mortified! The lady tried running my card again but it declined again. At this point Karma kicked in hard and the people behind me in line who had all of their frozen goods on the belt were shooting me daggers with their eyes. I had become exactly what I loathe. The problem is I had literally no other way to pay. I could call John but by the time he could get their with cash or a credit card, it would be at least twenty minutes. So the check out clerk was trying to do that trick where they suspend your transaction and let you step aside and check other people out while you figure out your dilemma but something was malfunctioning and they couldn't get it to do that. Then I remembered Kara! It was a miracle. I got her on the first ring "Emergency at aisle 5! RUN!" She appeared within seconds with her fully functioning debit card and saved the day. I have never felt such relief. Plus, I happened to loan Kara a couple of hundred dollars a few days previous and the total of my groceries was almost exactly what she owed me and was going to pay back that day anyway. Turns out Karma doesn't hate me as much as she likes to screw with me every now and then.

You would think that this is the end of the story about timing saving the day but it is actually only the beginning. I got out to the parking lot and was madly filling my minivan with bags when I saw a woman who was holding a tiny baby (maybe two months old) in one arm and had a huge armload of groceries in the other arm. She was then attempting to make a phone call on a phone that was not working. She was pacing around trying to get a signal and it was like a million degrees outside. I asked her if she needed help. She told me her phone wasn't working and asked if she could use my cell phone to make a call. Sure. Then she made the call but she was obviously calling really obscure acquaintances asking them to track down other people to try and track down a ride. I stopped her. "I can give you a ride." She was elated. I even had unused baby car seats installed and ready to go. I was glad to help. We got all loaded up and headed to her house and she told me her story. She just moved here from California and doesn't know a single person here. She has two little kids and she had to go to the grocery store that day because they were totally out of food and she had no choice but to walk carrying the baby. She hadn't realized how far it really was and she really didn't know how hot it would be. The further we drove to get her home the more concerned I became. She had walked for miles and was planning on walking back those miles carrying the groceries. No stroller, no help. She was so grateful for my help. She thanked me and thanked me. I told her that I'd like to exchange phone numbers and I could give her a ride to the store next time she needed it. She was elated. I told her that I could bring her to church and there would be hundreds of fabulous women with similar minivans who would like nothing more than to be friends with her and give her whatever help she needed. We also do playgroups and crafts and have an entire organization devoted to getting your family everything you need. She wants to come to church right away and I am sending the missionaries to her house. It felt so nice to help someone in need and it gave me a good opportunity to count my blessings and to be glad that I didn't have to walk anywhere or even pay for my own groceries. My life is so damn abundant. There really isn't any other way to put it. Abundant with friends, sweet minivans, beautiful healthy children, and a world wide church that is set up so that I could move anywhere on the planet and have an instant network of sincere friends and trusted social programs. Driving that woman home was nothing more than a five minute drive to me but to her it was a big deal.

John pointed out that she could have been a serial killer and I guess thats true but the baby put the odds in her favor of being non-homicidal. I was actually the more dangerous person involved as it did cross my mind to steal her baby. I have been baby hungry like nobody's business and I want a girl so bad. This was one of those perfect little hispanic babies with huge brown eyes and a hairdo that could be mistaken for a wig. Her mom let me take her out of the seat and she just cooed and smiled at me. She had velvety thigh rolls and smelled like baby powder. Yes, I was definitely the only one who considered committing a felony by driving away with that baby and never looking back. Instead I carried her into the house and gave her back to her very grateful mother.

I drove home thinking of how glad I was that a freak banking error had delayed me just to the right moment that I could help someone in need. It felt good to serve and it really was worth the mortification of debit card denial.

Tonsillectomy: part III

I'm posting this from the seventh floor of Banner Cardon Children's Medical Canter. Abe had his surgery yesterday and it went really well. He is already breathing so much better. He can sleep with his mouth closed and he says he can hear better.

He is in a lot of pain. He's just a little too young to understand that the yucky tasting liquid is what makes him feel better. Especially when it hurts so bad to swallow. The pain medicine is problematic. He can have it every four hours, but it only works for three. When the three hour mark hits, its like flipping a switch. He goes from being totally content to writhing in pain, screaming and tearing at his throat. Then of course he is in no mood to swallow anything, especially not horrible tasting Lortab, so he freaks out and ends up spitting most of it out and there's no way of measuring how much he actually got so they can't give him more for four hours even though there's more medicine on the towel than in his mouth. This sends me into what I can only call a Mama Bear Rampage that has definitely been a source of nurse's station gossip. Lets just say they approach me with caution. I have found that the great thing about hospital nurses is that you get a totally new set every ten hours and the new set never knows what kind of fit I threw to the last set. In all honesty they have been fabulous. We are just really ready to go home. Hopefully the doctor will come clear us soon.

This whole hospital drama has been interesting. I didn't know an experience could be simultaneously so stressful and so boring. I'm sleep deprived and in need of a shower, but mostly I'm just glad to have this surgery done and Ham on the mend.

He has been working it with the nurses and staff. Everyone adores him and he has definitely been batting his lashes for attention. Yesterday before surgery I overheard a funny conversation. They didn't know I could hear them. One nurse came into the hall with a big stuffed dinosaur and told the other nurse that she didn't know what to do because she only had one stuffed animal left and she couldn't decide which kid to give it to. The other nurse said, "Give it to that super cute one." She agreed and then walked in and gave it to Abe.

Our room is in the pediatric oncology ward. This provides a healthy reality check if I get to feeling sorry for Abe. The other kids on this floor are undergoing chemotherapy and recovering from transplants etc. I met a woman in the cafeteria this morning who's child has a raging case of meningitis and may not survive. This makes me so thankful for my healthy children. Words can't express my gratitude. This is what I think about during the fourth hour while we are waiting for pain meds.

Never Without a Crisis

Ham has had a snotty nose for what feels like forever. He has always been a heavy mouth breather which has earned him the nickname Darth Vader, which he loves. I don't like to use antibiotics, but I was finally worn down and decided to take him in to the doctor. I have always assumed that he will need his tonsils out at some point. Our family doctor didn't have any available appointments so I made an apt. with the Ear Nose and Throat Doctor that did Jack and John's surgery earlier this year. I kept trying to talk myself out of the appointment because he's really not sick sick, and I wondered if I was over-reacting by taking him to a specialist right off the bat. I decided to go anyway. Better safe than sorry.

When we got in to see the doctor I explained that he has had a runny nose and I just need a scrip for antibiotics. I reminded him about Jack and John and then asked him at what age he would consider doing a tonsillectomy. He said that he is way to young to consider it. He apologized and insisted that a kid has to be at least three before surgery or else it is just too risky. I was like, "Hey no biggie. we're just here for antibiotics anyway. We'll come back for a tonsil checkup in the next few years."

Then the Doctor looked into Abe's throat. He burst out laughing. He said "I'm going to now completely contradict myself and tell you that this kid has to have his tonsils and adenoids out immediately. Lets call the hospital and get their next opening right now. I have never seen a case so bad in a kid this young in my entire career. This can NOT wait until he is three."

By the time we finished the exam we learned the following things:

Abe has two raging ear infections, needs tubes in both ears and has probably been in major pain for a long time. He probably has significant hearing loss and most likely hears everything like he's underwater. The doctor was surprised that he doesn't have delayed speech.

Abe's adenoids and sinuses are so inflamed that he has no airflow in his nose at all and his airflow is so restricted by his tonsils that its like breathing through a little straw. He probably hasn't slept for a solid chunk of time for a long time because of airway restriction. Major obstructive sleep apnea.

The reason he is so drool-y is because swallowing is super painful and he would rather let the saliva drip out than swallow unnecessarily.

We're having the surgery at Banner Desert on Friday morning and he has to stay in the hospital afterwards because of his age and the risk involved with operating on such a young kid. It won't be a simple out-patient thing like Jack had, but a minimum of two days and one night in the hospital. It will be a super painful recovery but will restore his breathing and hearing and save him from a life time of chronic infection. I told Ham about what we have to do and told him he won't sound like a Sith Lord anymore. Now he can be Han Solo. He wants to still be Darth Vader because he wants to wield a light saber. He told me this emphatically with hand gestures showing me Darth Vader's mask over his mouth and then lots of sword motions with his arm and light saber noises. I told him he could be Luke Skywalker and keep the light saber. He was satisfied so surgery is on for Friday He has no concept of what it means to be at a hospital across town by five in the morning. Frankly, neither do I. I am very anxious about the whole thing but more than anything I'm glad that there is a solution to this problem. I was freaking out about the whole thing and then stopped myself and said a prayer of gratitude for the blessing of modern medicine and competent doctors and mommy intuition.

I feel so bad for him to know he's been hurting without complaining at all. I didn't even know he had an ear infection or a sore throat. Poor little guy. I'm so glad I took him in now. I realize now that I was more prompted than paranoid.

They put him on strong antibiotics to knock down some of the infection before surgery. The anesthesia is less risky if he is clear. The problem is I can never get this kid to take medicine of any kind. Its always a wrestling match. Jack has always been the same way so I was prepared to negotiate when I gave him his first dose last night. We had finished reading books for the night and he wanted to read one more so I told him that if he would eat this delicious liquid candy then I would read one more book. We made a deal but then of course ended up having to hold him down on the bed and funnel it in to his mouth with a syringe while he tried to spit it out. It got all over the place and was a major fight before I was satisfied that he got enough consumed. Then he walked over and handed me the unread book. "Read Book now."

I said "I don't know, Ham. You didn't really keep your end of the bargain. You made it really hard and you tried to spit it out. That wasn't in the deal." Without missing a beat he looked me in the eye, pointed to the empty syringe and stated "Not candy."

I read the book. It is simultaneously heartwarming and disturbing to lose an argument to my two year old.

In other Kramer Family Crisis news... I wrecked both of our cars at the same time. Yes, thats right, both of 'em. I backed out of the garage in the van and John's car was in my blind spot and I completely dented up the sides of both vehicles, ripping the rear view mirror off of the Focus. Not my finest moment. Of course the repair cost is not much more than the deductible so insurance will help but not much, and either way our policy doesn't contain anything that will make me feel like less of an idiot. I had the entire family in the car plus a couple of neighbor kids so there was no escaping my shame. I'm so mad at myself about it. I have to remember my gratitude... No one was hurt and the cars are still driveable, just a little trashy looking now. Oh well. Life goes on. Hopefully we have met our monthly quota of drama for the month and it will be smooth sailing for a while. We just have to get through Abraham's surgery and we're golden. I'll keep ya posted.

Raising my presidents

This may be a little early to announce but I think I can safely say that Abraham speaks English. This year has been full of learning for him and its like his communication skills have just exploded. A few things Ham has come to appreciate in recent days:

Gravity. I swear he is all of a sudden more coordinated and has far fewer unintended run ins with the surface of Earth. He is still crazy active but seems more coordinated too so thats always good.

Ham has learned the power of the potty. I won't go so far as to call him trained, but he definitely has a healthy respect for big boy underwear and pee pee prizes. He is still reaching for the brass ring of the poo poo prize. We are so close.

Ham is just fun to be around. He will eat anything he is fed, even raw vegetables and food storage creations. Incidentally, he loves a good nap, and is pretty much happy tagging along with me wherever I go. He's smart too. He knows his colors and sounds, he can trash the house in the time it takes for one adult to shower. He loves to go to Church and Shopping. Especially Sam's Club (Which he honestly believes is called Ham's Club) It is his personal store. Just ask him. He walks in with his chest out pointing to himself with both hands "Hams's Club." He's not the least bit surprised when he is offered free food at every corner. It is after all, his club. If we can harness his curiosity, creativity, and ingenuity, don't be surprised if you really are spending forty bucks a year to shop at his store in about 30 years. Jack likes to tell about how Abe will be president of the United States because he's named after a president. This is about the time we dropped the JFK news on our John "Jack" Fredrick Kramer. He too has a name that puts him in the running to be a president. Incidentally, he promises that he won't let himself get shot and he won't be a democrat either. I was vaguely aware that we gave our boys presidential names, but didn't realize we picked presidents who met violent ends. Leave it to Jack to figure that out.

Jack is so much fun for me right now. He comes up with the funniest stuff. Yesterday he asked me what it is called when there are two dots in a sentence, one on top of the other? I responded, "a colon?" He was totally exasperated. "no, mom." me: sorry, I thought you were talking about a device used in a sentence to make lists called a colon. What were you talking about?" {big annoyed sigh...} It is a colon, mom. You're not supposed to answer the question. You're supposed to say 'I don't know' and then let me tell you about the colon and then you're supposed to be so amazed that I know what a colon is and say how smart I am. To which I responded, "I was supposed to pretend I didn't know? I was supposed to hide my own smartness to highlight yours?what about me? Who is gonna tell me I'm smart when I know what a colon is?" "Uhhh... call grandma. She'll tell you you're smart." So the circle of life continues. I have agreed to let Jack answer his own questions and have agreed to seek my own self esteem from my own mom. That works, I guess. Mom, this is your cue to leave a comment telling me how great I am. I know you'll come through for me. Next time I see you remind me to tell you all about the magical world of punctuation.Please pretend to be dazzled.

We went to the public pool for the last time this summer. I'm glad it is cooling off, but I will miss that awesome pool. I discovered it a little late in the season so we only went a few times but its the best $.75 you can spend when its 110 degrees out. Jack mastered the low diving board and Ham and I spent hours in the lazy river. I keep Ham in a padded swimsuit. You know those ones that have big foam inserts on the chest and back. They look a little ridiculous, but they make it totally impossible for a kid to go under. Our particular suit is not technically coast guard approved like a life vest but I like that it gives sun protection too.

Speaking of fabulous swimsuits, I also got a new tankini top that I love. Its the first swimsuit I have ever found that actually has a sized built in bra so it really gives support. Not like a stupid soft cup shelf bra, or a typical swimsuit half bra, but a full built in, choose your real cup and band built in bra. Plus a smoothing liner inside. The only swimsuit that I have ever felt publicly presentable in. So I was waiting to get into the lazy river with Ham and I had just told my friend Kara about my new swimsuit and the lifeguard stopped us. The following exchange took place:

lifeguard: "oh, sorry, we don't allow padded swimsuits like that."

me: flustered and embarrassed and annoyed "What in the world are you talking about? Its not padded! Its just really really supportive!"

lifeguard: "Yes, it is obviously padded but its just not coast guard approved. I'll let it go this time but next time put him in trunks and they will give you a life vest rental for free at the office."

Oh. Abe's swimsuit. yeah. I knew that. I'm not an idiot. did I mention that I know exactly what a colon is and how to use it? I'm smart. I swear. right, mom?