Oops

Today I am reveling in my independence.
I am in a funny frame of mind, still hearing seventies and eighties rock songs in my head.
I should have known there was a terrible wiring problem when these odd happy tunes started during the aforementioned bike ride yesterday morning!

So, yesterday we got a lot done and I'm headed to bed (early, per goal). So, I flip on the bathroom lamp...first time all week I've been going to bed so late. (I've been getting ready for bed in the dark going to bed slightly after my husband, not wanting to wake him, tired from the rehab on his arm.)

I start to take my meds for the night and I am at the end of the first week of BC pills.

I suddenly threw myself to the floor, began to beat my hands like a Banshee woman, screaming, "No!, NO! It's can't be! I did NOT, just DO THaT!"

My husband is in the room and he's like, "What?! What? What is it? Come on, get up. Shhh."

I said, "I can't. This is not good. Not good. Go look. Oh, my!!! Tell me I did NOT just do that."

He says, "Okay...where?"

I said, "THERE...there... ON... THE... SINK!" pointing, still in my prostrate position, head now on the floor...



He said, "Okay, it's your pills, and you've taken a week and I don't see that you've missed any. That is good."

I said, "No, I've not missed any....but somehow I took the entire week of placebo pills to start the pack."

"Oh. That would be bad. How could that happen?"

"Well, I turned the container upside down when I started and never looked at it the rest of the week. I just kept punching them out. It was dark. I couldn't see. I just did. That's what I did. "

"Are you sure they were placebos?"

"There is one left. It is white. All the others in the pack are pale yellow."

"But, no, you're okay. See, here. Look, the drug name is right about this line. You should have been taking them all anyway. They are all active. I think it's still an active week...You just took the wrong week. It's okay."

"It was a placebo week."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it was."

"Let me see the paperwork."

"It was a placebo."

"Where are the papers?"

"I don't know. I threw them away. There are more in the closet."

Dig.
He reads. Reads. rEads. I'm still on the floor.

He concludes, "Those were placebos."

"Yeah. Placebos." (Note, the absence of "I told you that.")

"Okay. So, you just took a week of placebos...God is still in control of this one."

"Yup."

"I was going to do something about that this year."

"Yup."

"Should be interesting."

"Yup."

I have an independent 4 yr old. A sassy 6 year old. And a very smart eight year old.
Brown, blond, and red-headed. Neapolitan ice cream. Perfect. They are playful, shy, and bold.
I miscarried a twin the last time. That makes it more likely I might have twins in the future.

Wow. I trust the Lord. But, when I said I held a sweet cuddly little baby last week, I wan't really hinting or anything.

I could handle it now...I think. My health is good again. Mostly.

Wow.

Just think. Or maybe try not to think. The odds aren't that high. Right?

Nah.

Babies are cuddly...sometimes.