Oy! What a day!!

It has turned out to be a gut wrenching, heart wrenching, and mind wrenching day. To start off the day on a positive note, Punk had a dry diaper when she got up this morning. The bad part is, we woke up late and had only eight minutes to get ready before the bus showed up. Then off to school she went. I was planning on going back to sleep since I have not stopped running around like a headless chicken since Monday. No such luck. I got a phone call from a friend that wanted to chitchat since they hadn't talked to me a little while. We talked for over an hour before said friend dropped a little tidbit of earth shattering news. Friend's explanation for holding back on the "big news" was because they were waiting for me to get fully awake and for my coffee to kick in. Well I was REALLY awake at that point.

I decided not to let the day go to waste by getting a jump start on next week's birthday cake. I set about the task of making a marshmallow fondant for the first time ever. What an experience that was! Hopefully it will turn out OK. In any case, I tasted the stuff and it tastes way less like ass-glue than the other stuff sold by the "official cake making product supplying company". I have an idea to copy a Mickey Mouse cake I saw when I Googled Mickey Mouse Cake. I am just going to make it a little different so that I can post pictures of it and not get sued by some random person somewhere.

While I am up to my elbows in marshmallow and Crisco my daughter's teacher called. She said that Punk's belly was really distended and that she had not peed all day. She was calling for advice as well as to tell me that my daughter is now a "toucher" in the sense that she has discovered her nether regions and thinks it is the coolest new toy! I told the teacher to relay the message to the Punk to stop touching and told her to slap a diaper on the Punk and that should make her pee in a heartbeat. They sent my child home with a diaper on and panties over top of them. Dry. She was running a fever and was very potbellied when she got home. FCB took her for a little bike ride to the mailbox down the street to see if that would get her bladder working while I called the pediatrician. The ped. said bring her in right away. I got ready to go and when Punk walked in the door, she had peed the diaper. I took it off and within minutes she had started peeing her pants but managed to get her pants off and get about half of it in the potty. Yay!

Off to the doctor we went. By this time, my lack of sleep/heart condition was catching up to me and I was trying really hard to get a migraine to go along nicely with my anxiety/heart attack. We got to see the same doc that saw my sister's newest baby and discovered the heart problem. He is a rock star in my family's opinion right now. He is concerned. So what does any concerned doctor do? Order a gazillionumpteen tests PLUS a sonogram and put her on a laxative while referring us to a bankbreaking amount of specialists. Woo. Oh yeah...and hoo. Potty training on a laxative. This ought to be a buttpuckering ball of giggles.

He perused her chart and asked me when I started potty training her. FCB says "last week" at the same time I blurt out "three years ago" and the doc gives us the most confuzzled of looks. He said according to her chart we had been at it for years. I agreed. He said at this point not only is it a behavioral issue, it might just be a medical one at that.

Stoooopid me for breathing a slight sigh of hopefulness that our life of medical misery might just be behind us. *facedesk*

Because of all the "potty drama" I missed my appointment to go sign my will. As if my life weren't so slightly complicated enough. So that's my day. I've already started drinking. If I already feel like I have the worst hangover in my life I might as well start trying to earn it in reverse.

Imma go cry now.