Jay completed his first surgery last Wednesday. I've never really noticed the before and after transformation of a penis prior to this experience. And for some reason, I can't help but wonder who in the world decided to experiment with circumcision in the first place? And more importantly, who volunteered to be the initial patient?
He wasn't exactly sure what was happening, (I told him the doctors were going to fix his skin to look more like Ross' penis).
He was fine with that explantation as he trusts me 96%.
But 45 minutes later he woke in my arms as the anesthesia wore off and I soaked up the snuggles.
Until he became slightly nauseous, then he hovered over a barf bag.
There was a little drama the next day when the bandage was to be removed (if it hadn't already fallen off). His was still snuggly adhered. Although baths were not allowed, he didn't trust me around the gauze pad (which must have been stuck to the bloody incision). It didn't come off in the shower (no matter how many times I doused his head with water in a determined attempt to saturate the gauze. At one point I filled the Barbie swimming pool in the living room and convinced him to sit in the ocean as 'beach waves' splashed around.
Desperate times folks.
Two showers later, 3 pairs of Paw Patrol blood soaked undies and a swollen penis base led me to call the surgery center for removal advice. They suggested I bring him in. Because I'm not at 100% trust level with him yet, some things are better left to medical professionals when pain or anxiety is involved.
While my 4 big kids sat in the waiting room inhaling as many complementary snacks possible in a 5 minute time span, the nurses were able to remove the bandage while I held his tiny wrists and tear soaked face back with my arms.
And because we are who we are, we took him camping for the weekend.
Come on, there are only so many weekends in a summer.
This photo makes me realize how badly I need to vacuum my van...
We camped with Mikes cousin John, his fiance and Johns daughter Charlie.
Molly helped prep corn on the cob.
We camped through record heat...
and made it through the first night with only one puker and another with diarrhea. Note the pile of laundry setting to the right of the tent. It has chunks in it. We decided Maisie had one too many Smore. At 4 a.m., Molly told me she needed to poop. I walked her over to the bushes, which is where the farting started, followed by liquidness. She found the whole experience hysterical.
But the sun came up in the morning and all was well.
Molly's camping face. I found selfies on my phone.
Molly taught Jay how we wash hands when camping. Given the circumstances of the previous night, this was a great habit to adopt.
Molly was loyal to her corn and was responsible for foil-wrapping each ear.
Kabobs were a fun way to get everyone in on prep work.
Did I mention there were heat advisories in our area? We seemed to have a lot of smoke as well.
Eventually Molly's camp chair tipped over and ironically she landed in a plate of chewed up corn cobs.
She was covered in corn.
Naturally.
Jay discovered a fondness for the black pepper shaker. We'd catch him dumping the pepper into his mouth like a shot.
I just didn't't know what to do in this situation.
He'd had a tough week, so I let him indulge.
Yet despite the heat, Jay's sore penis walk which made me think of Urkel, the fact that most our food tasted like ash, and the mosquitos were fierce...
The adventure and excitement of camping with kids, catching fireflies in Mason jars, throwing snaps, eating smores till you puke, the abundance of adult beverage, devise-free time, feeling uglier than ever, and spending time with cousins, both old and new, can't be replaced by anyTHING.
Time is non-refundable. Use it with intention.
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