Fatal Attraction to Cuteness

Friday. WHOO.

Yesterday I went to H&M against my better judgment to check out the spring clothes situation. I got my bonus from work this week, which I expected to be in the realm of $800, but after cuts from the company and the government taking it's greedy portion (hope those kids in Iraq like those bombs!), I only get to see $600. While most of it is going toward my sizable credit card bill, a girl can't dress in last season's clothes alone. I'm going out with a couple friends tonight and felt like dressing nicely, so I treated myself to a shirt dress. I look vaguely like I'm about to go on safari, but on the whole I look like an actual grown-up instead of my usual skater-punk self. Since most people in my office don't get gussied up for work I generally don't bother, but I do feel better when I look more put-together. As much as I'd love to buy myself an entire wardrobe of fine young woman's clothing, it's not in the cards until a freelance gig or a new job shows up. Or someone nominates me for What Not to Wear. Hint hint.

Tomorrow evening I head down to Rhode Island to care for my Mom after her back surgery. She's been given an all-clear from her oral surgeon and her back surgeon, so unless another tooth decides to get infected, she should be on her way to feeling better soon. At this point, it's become old hat. I sit in the hospital waiting room with my grandfather and brother, watching horrible daytime TV until the surgeon comes out and says she's okay (I hope). It would be one thing if I thought this would be it for a while, but after three major arthritis-related surgeries in three years (or so) I just feel like we're resetting the clock before she needs more surgery. I think when she's recovered from this latest round, I'm going to pressure her into seeing an arthritis specialist or something. She's so young to have to deal with all this. I also hope she loses some weight to take the pressure off her bones a little, but she's an adult and I can't make her. She's trying, but the pain makes her not want to move, which makes her weight loss minimal, which makes her pain worse, and it's a horrible spiral.

Baby and I have a whole routine worked out about this. She's got quite a vocabulary for someone who's only nearly three, but her mind is still young.

"What's you Mom's name?"

I tell her.

"Is she going to the doctor?"

"Yes."

"For her tooth?"

"No, she's done with that. Now she's going to get her back fixed."

"Oh. Her back?" Baby reaches behind her and grabs her own back.

So have a lovely weekend, dear readers. Missives from the Ocean State will begin next week.