The Ridiculous Bedtime Routine

If you have children, you know that bedtime can be a challenge. With the whole, "I  need a drink of water" "I have to go potty" business.  I took a long, hard look at my own bedtime routine. And it's pretty ridiculous.

It goes a little something like this:

• Pee
• Shower
• Pee again (when I get out of the shower, of course)
• Brush, floss, mouthwash
• Pee again
• Have a drink of water
• Climb into bed
• Turn on the fan
• Put lotion on my feet and hands. Put socks on
• Apply lip balm
• Blow my nose
• Put my CPAP mask on
• Realize that I have to pee again
• Pee
• Have another drink of water on my way back to bed
• Climb back into bed
• Reapply lip balm
• Blow my nose again
• Put CPAP back on
• Watch an entire episode of "Golden Girls"
• Pee one last time
• Off to sleep  

The whole process only takes about 5-6 hours. Now, who wants me to sleep over? 

A Family Secret

You guys, I've struggled with telling you this one. I wasn't sure if it was too private. After all, I'm not even sure my siblings know about the secret that I'm about to reveal.

One of my Fossils doesn't know how to use Caller ID. (I'll give you a hint: she's a female.)

There, I said it. I feel like a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I've been carrying that secret around for a while now.

You see, I became knowledgeable about the situation a few weeks ago.

It went down like this:

I was at my desk at work and she called.

"Did you just call here (the house phone)?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, I was in the yard and the phone rang. I didn't get to it in time though."

"Did you check the Caller ID?"

Dead silence.


Now, she knows how to look at the Caller ID when the phone is ringing. She just has no idea how to retrieve the information once the phone has stopped ringing.


I'm telling you this as a public service. Check with your own Fossils. See if they know how to operate perplexing home appliances, like the telephone. You'll be surprised what you find out.

Is Voicemail a Thing of the Past?

Since I work in a doctor's office, a lot of my time is spent on the phone. We're constantly calling patients to remind them about appointments and to let them know that their contact lenses or glasses have come in.

Most people ask us to call them on their cell phone. As you can imagine, we get their voicemail a lot of the time. We always leave a quick message to confirm their appointment or inform them  about their order.

Either 15 seconds, or a couple of HOURS, after we call them, we get this call:

*Ring. Ring*

Me: "Hello, Dr. G's office.

Patient: "Hi, I missed a call from this number."

Me: "Yes, this is the eye doctor. We left you a message."

Patient: "Oh, I didn't listen to it."

Me: (Thinking, but not saying) "Well, go listen to it fool and you'll unravel the mystery of why we called you."

Me: (Saying instead) "We're confirming for tomorrow at 9:00 am"

Patient: "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I can't make it."

Me: (Thinking, not saying). "Go eff yourself."


How about you? Do you listen to your voicemail or just call back the number that you missed a call from?

My Trip to the Dermatologist

If you know me in real life, you know that I've been cursed blessed with Irish skin. I like to think of myself as having alabaster, milky white, ivory skin. My friends think of me as Casper.

I see the dermatologist once a year for my skin check. Since melanoma runs rampant in my family, I'm very diligent about it.

My old dermatologist moved his office, so I started seeing a new guy. He's much younger and has a very sleek, up-to-date office.

They had me put on a paper gown (totally normal for a skin cancer check), that opens in the back. Then he had me sit on this chair/table thing. A "chable" if you will. It was upright, but he pressed a button and the back folded down to turn it into a table.

He checked the front of my body and then asked me to turn over. Well, this chable is about the width of a small chair. And I'm in a paper gown. With nothing but undies on underneath. This was not going to be pretty. Picture a whale that as somehow beached itself and is now (aggressively) trying to turn itself over. That was me on this table. I had a choice; either use my hand to keep my gown closed, and fall on the floor, or use both of my hands to turn myself over. I chose to use both hands. I imagine that I started out looking like a beached whale but ended up looking like a turtle that was stuck on its back. Either way, it was the opposite of graceful. There was lot of gasping, heavy breathing, sweating and trying to cover my fat fanny. The whole episode took about 2.5 seconds, although it felt like 20 minutes. I think I noticed a look of horror/disgust on the doctors face.

I think I'll start exercising. Does anyone have a chable I can use?

And just like that, I'm back

Hey,

Hi! How are you? It's been awhile. I haven't written a thing in almost 18 months. Yikes. That's a long time.

I figured I'd catch you up on what I've been doing in that time.

Here goes:

• I had a baby
• Lost 40 pounds
• Climbed Mount Everest
• Spent a month in Bora Bora
• Overcame my fear of heights (and flying)
• Found a new, calorie and fat free, chocolate that won't make you gain weight. 

Okay, so I didn't do any of those things. I've just been, you know, busy. Or lazy. Or both. Well, I'm dipping my toes back into the blogging world. I can't promise that I'll write something everyday, but I can promise that I can't promise anything. 

Looking forward to connecting with you guys. 

xo,

Loopy