Leina loves to sit. She could sit all day long if I let her. Even better, she’s learned how to get from her back to her favorite sitting position. It involves rolling on her side, proping herself up with her hands, a major ab crunch and voila! She’s up!

The first couple of time she did this, she would look at me, eyes shining, as if to say “did you see that mom? didja? am I a big girl or what!!” I caught one early sit on video and will try to convince tech support (Kevin) to load it up. It’s beyond cute.

So today, Leina woke up from her morning nap cooing. I decided on a quick bathroom break before rescuing her so it took me a few moments to head for her room. When I did, I realized she was totally silent. No cooing, giggling, wailing….. nada. Perplexed, I tip-toed to the door and eased it open just in case she had fallen back asleep.

What did I find?

Leina was sitting up in her crib playing with her blanket. Her back was to me but I think the light tipped her off to my presence because she whipped her head around once she realized I was there. Then, she did a belly dive. Yes, she dove, face down onto the crib and sort of rolled over and looked at me like, “what, me sitting in the crib? never! I would never do that! nope, no sitting baby here. just a good belly sleeper.”

I swear it was the first time I’ve ever seen her look guilty. I don’t know what she was up to but it was no good. Of that I am sure.

Have I mentioned that I may be in serious trouble over the next few years?

I’ve been MIA on the blog lately but things have gone crazy. Absolutely crazy. The house has closed and we are moving in two weeks. Yikes. This means our house is filled with half packed boxes. Why is it that when you are trying to pack, everything gets so messy? You would think that putting stuff into boxes would a) decrease the amount of stuff around your house and b) increase the amount of open space on shelves and in closets. This is so not true. Somehow, the chaos has only multiplied. Now, I have stuff strewn everywhere and piles of big bulky boxes sitting in every conceivable corner of the house.

This weekend we fled from the chaos of our house and headed north for Kevin’s Grandma’s 90th birthday. It was the first time most of the Van Dyks had seen Leina and they went crazy. It was like Julia Roberts walked into the room when we arrived. Everyone had a camera and wanted a picture with her. I swear if she could write they’d have asked for her autograph. Leina, in true Leo fashion, loved it. She was passed from Aunt to Uncle to cousin. The flash bulbs where going a mile a minute and Munchie calmly reigned in the center of all this attention. Smiling, doing her Rose Princess wave, and basically charming the pants off of every relative there. I got this great picture of Kevin, his brother Chris, and Leina which I will post. The family resemblence is frightening.

My little lion. She just loves to bask in being the center of attention. I’ve so going to have my hands full for the rest of my life.

My mom flew out last night, and Kevin headed to work as normal this morning leaving me all by myself with Leina. Yesterday, I had my post surgery consult, and my surgeon told me I had healed enough to go back to work. He even offered to write a letter to my boss explaining my absence. I declined the letter seeing that my current boss pretty much only understands the words “dog”, “boobie”, and “teeth” right now.

And so, this morning, Leina and I waved good-bye to dada through the front window. After this, we proceeded on to Cheerios per our normal routine. After snorking about twenty or so, Leina got a very serious look on her face. She was either trying to remember the Pythagorum Theorem or she was pooping a mighty poop. After about five minutes of grunting and brow furrowing, a horrific smell drifted from her nether region. I looked around for someone to pass her off to but the only other being in the kitchen was Artie and he gave me a look like….”there aren’t enough meat sticks in the world lady”… and promptly headed for the sofa.

And so I had to change Leina’s poopy diaper ALL BY MYSELF. Then, I had to dress her and put her into the stroller ALL BY MYSELF. We proceeded to Safeway where we bought lots of fruit for my little monkey. At the checkout counter, I had to pay for my purchase WITH MY OWN MONEY. We next headed to Starbucks where I picked up my morning espresso, but I had forgotten how hard it is to push and stroller and carry a coffee ALL BY MYSELF. When we arrived home, I had to PUT AWAY MY OWN GROCERIES and even worse, all the dishes from breakfast were still sitting on the table and so, as soon as I finish typing this entry, I’m going to have to go WASH MY OWN DISHES.

This is so outrageous! I’m still not clear who exactly decided to let my mom go home but boy do I have a bone to pick with them. Hello, people? Do you realize I’m going to have to go back to doing everything ALL BY MYSELF????

Does anyone know if you can elect to have your appendix removed even if it’s healthy? Or perhaps tonsils? How many non-essential organ can one lose if needed……

I’m on the road to recovery, but I feel the need to thank some wonderful people who helped me through.

Kat and Josh, the world’s best friends, who dropped their Sat plans on a moment’s notice for a marathon 5 hour babysitting fest.

Vicki, whose relaxing grandma visit turned into a major child care weekend.

Jerry & Carla, my guardian angels, who sat at my hospital bed before and after a horrifically tough recovery from surgery. They were my light at the end of the tunnel.

My mom, who hopped on the first Alaska flight to Portland and has done all my heavy lifting and cleaning these last few days.

And, of course, Kevin, who managed to keep his cool even after he found me curled into a whimpering ball on the living room floor at 2am.

But I’m feeling pretty good now. Turns out your gallbladder is mostly decorative and tends to malfunction after you have a kid or two. Mine has been acting up for a few months but I had decided to take the “grin and bear” it path rather than the “go to the doctor and have it taken care of before it gets worse” road. In retrospect, I should’ve gone to the doctor. But that’s all spilled milk.

Last Sat, I awoke with a familiar stomach ache at 1:30am. I headed downstairs thinking the ache would pass in a few minutes. About an hour later, Kevin realized I was still out of bed and came looking for me. He found me curled into a ball on the living room floor, moaning and clutching my stomach. The pain wouldn’t go away. I was also vomiting which was a new twist. Lucky me!

Kevin wanted to head for the ER right then and there but I just couldn’t bring myself to wake Leina and lug her to an ER room in the wee hours of the morning. I spend the next four (very long) hours waiting for her to wake. For the first time since she was born, I was actually happy when she awoke at 6am. We changed her, packed a breakfast for her and headed to the hospital. It was my first ER visit and, after the morphine shot, it was quite fun. I got an ultrasound which confirmed the doc’s diagnosis of gallbladder problems and was scheduled for emergency surgery that afternoon.

This is when the world’s best support team kicked in.

I was pretty out of it at the hospital so Kevin whipped everything into gear all on his own. Kat and Josh headed to our house, Jerry and Carla to the hospital, and Vicki was on her way for overnight backup. Meanwhile, I lay in my very revealing hospital gown and chatted away until the big cut.

Don’t remember much of the surgery (a good thing). I remember saying good-bye to Kevin and then. Nada. When I came too, I was one organ lighter. The surgery is all done lapiscopically (sp?) so all I had were three holes in my tummy and some cool color pics of my gallbladder and kidney area. I’ll see if I can convince Kevin to scan them online. Didn’t get to keep my gallstones which was a bummer.

Turns out, for the surgery, they pumped my tummy full of gas to give them room to work. This seems harmless enough, right? Wrong. All that gas gets trapped inside with no way out so it just sits on your organs, excerting pressure and pain! Pain like you wouldn’t believe! It was just below the pain of child-birth. Jerry and Carla kept hounding the nurses to give me more demerol and until they did, I didn’t think I was going to make it. It was a horrific four hour recovery while I waited for all that gas to get out of my body. Once it did, I felt much better. So much so that they released me Sunday morning and my mom arrived that night. I spent most of Sunday and Monday knocked out on pain pills but that was ok since my mom had munchie duty. Tues and Wed I started to wean myself off of them and today I went the whole day pain med free. That Vicodin is good at stopping pain but it just puts me to sleep. I’m glad I don’t need it any more.

I’m back at about 90%. Good enough that I’m heading out tomorrow morning to meet a realtor and look at some home while Tutu babysits the kid. I’m beginning to get very excited about a new home. Having owned a home, I now have a very good idea of what I want and what isn’t necessary. I just hope something good is out there waiting for me!

Ok, that’s enough of my gallbladder adventure.

Let me just sum up by saying doctors, sometimes you can save yourself a lot of pain if you go to them. Trust me.

Leina went on a giggle fest this afternoon. Don’t know why exactly. She was just happy. And as she sat on my lap and laughed at the dog, I snuggled her close and whispered…

“I love you so much baby girl.”

She didn’t pay much attention to me. Instead, she began waving at the dog, a hug smile on her face so I whispered….

“Do you love me too?”

The dog decided to investigate whether or not the waving baby hand held a cheerio or (even better) a bit of mashed meat stick. Leina, delighted at the doggie attention, burst into a stream of baby babble. As she chattered to the dog, I whispered….

“I hope so ’cause when I’m old, I’m gonna come live with you.”

And my darling daughter looked at me, patted my check with her dog slobbery hand, and smiled.