Returning To Normal...

Oldest: "Mom, can we celebrate my birthday on Saturday instead of Sunday?"
Me: "Maybe, why?"
Oldest: "I just want to celebrate early."
Me: "No, you just want your present early.  It's nice you are getting so excited about socks."
Oldest: "But I really wanted an iPod."
Me: "Dude... I'm out of work... besides, they are really cool app inspired socks.  They tell your vitals, blood pressure, heart rate, AND they measure the bacteria level between your toes!"
Oldest (face palm) "Why would I want those?"
Me: "So you'd know if you were getting athlete's foot."
*eye roll*
Me: "It's so nice you're excited about socks... they are so cool."

As you may imagine, we are well on our way to being back to normal here.  Recovery was going well until last Friday when the night sweats and fatigue started.  On Sunday I went back to the doctors (in the midst of a snow storm thankyouverymuch).  Three hours later I was sent back to the hospital for testing, drinking five cups of radioactive banana flavored barium, and having it injected into my veins for a 20 minute whirl of photos.  It revealed that my gall bladder was missing (shocker) and that I may have a small infection starting.  Fast forward four much milder, beautiful Fall days, some HEAVY duty antibiotics, and I am feeling much better.  I have a follow up with my actual doctor (a story that I'll spare you all)  today, and the surgeon next week.  If all goes well, I should be back to work should be back to work shortly after Thanksgiving.  All things considered the surgery went fine, it's the pancreas they are concerned with, as my numbers still have not returned to normal.

All that to say that I am getting around well and at first glance, look fine. Youngest's memory span being what it is, forgets. So while I am still not at work (I have a 10 lb weight restriction) he thinks I should be able to lift things and take care of everything myself. This has inspired our new game, ten pounds or not.  Seriously.  He's taking to weighing  things.  Laundry basket? 25 lbs.  Laundry detergent? 9lbs.  If it's under 10, I move it.  Over 10, he does. Honestly, it's taking a lot of the arguing out of getting stuff done. I'm waiting to see how long it takes for him to realize that he sometimes pushes down on the scale while he's weighing.

Oldest on the other hand, has been surprisingly, amazing. (And no I don't think it's because he's got a birthday coming). I have not seen one eye roll, heard one "No", or "Can I do it later." He just gets up and does it. He will even start the laundry when I ask him to just bring the basket down, or put the trash out when I've just asked him to pull it out for me.

When he was little we battled a lot about his need to be the man of the house.  His father grilled it into his head that since we were divorced, it was now Oldest's job to "take care of things".  It drove me crazy, and it's a battle we have had for years.  It's not his job to be the grown up. It is his job to be a kid... a teenager... in charge of no one but himself.

And now, while he's never had t be the "man" of the house, with the whole experience I am soon realizing that I am loving the man he is becoming.  And of all the things to come from this not so fun experience, THAT is my favorite.