I was bound and
determined to attend Nick's first soccer game today. I hadn't mentioned anything about him being on a team any sooner, as well, up until this past week, we just weren't sure. We had another one of those 'we need an extra coach' scenarios and guess who did not step up this time. Actually, to be fair, last time he just volunteered "to help" and the next thing we knew he was Coach Pete. And wasn't he awesome (c'mon San Ramon friends, did he rock that coaching thing or what?....).
Given that practice sessions led by Skype from far off locations might not go over so well with other parents, we just kept our mouths (and emails) quiet this time. Then, we lucked out and another parent volunteered...and he just happens to be (get this!) the head soccer coach at the University of DC! Well, now extremely glad we just kept the idea of Coach Pete to ourselves.
Practices began yesterday and while Nicholas was a bit nervous at first about being a "teamer" he quickly warmed up after meeting new friends at practice. Being that my incredibly swollen and slow self is still convalescing, I skipped practice in hopes that resting up would allow me to attend the game. It did and so glad to have not missed his....first goal!
Yep, the Little Guy managed to score the first goal of the game! He had a free kick, hit it right in and boom, the white team scored! He played at least half the game, if not more, and had a great time running, kicking, stopping and randomly looking around (most of them did this, I think it's required...and adorable) and just getting sweaty and having fun. He loved snack, he loved hanging out on the sidelines (and on Dad's shoulders) and I am so glad we signed him up for this trial run. As we found out with Cait, this age is perfect to find out if they really have interest or not, especially as it is so non-competitive.
Shoot it in the wrong goal? No worries! Other team scores? Go red team, congrats!
I don't know even know the final score, just that they had fun and I managed to walk one quarter of the way to the car (about 20 yards) before I was in massive pain and had to hang by a light pole until Pete picked me up. Given my long sleeve shirt and sweat pants (bad idea on a hot day), you can't see my bandages and I'm sure I was given many a looks for my shuffle and moans of pain because I tried to walk more than a step a minute. You know, cause I look so young and all (as if).
Oh, and my get-up? Yep, I'm still bound in that direction. No changes in that regard until Tuesday when I have my post-op with the famous Dr. X. At the pre-op appointment, he insisted I was doing terribly well, and that all was healing beautifully. He even thoughtfully ignored my beached whale look (which is now twice as bad). So, I would offer a slew of photos of me looking absolutely fabulous, but all we have right now are these (avert your eyes if you are squeamish about large amounts of tape and gauze):
Yes, I know, I look lumpy, bumpy and a bit weird all around (see the tape up to my neck?). However, God forbid anyone else ever has to go through, this is what a Stage 2 DIEP looks like 5 days post-surgical. Oh, and my chest is not screwed up as much as it might look ...those wrinkles really belong to this massive amount of bandaging.
Yes, there I am in my glory. My swollen, gauzed up, overly-taped, then constricted by a super surgical bra glory. FYI, there will be no other before and afters, not to worry, as I don't even know that I will be looking on Tuesday. I'm sure the PS will want to ooh and aah over his work, but I'll definitely be covering my eyes...at least at first. As an added bonus, I will spare you the "bweeds" (according to Nick) that the PS gave me when removing the dog ears of my abdominal scar.
There, hope I haven't offended anyone or been added to an indecent exposure list, but figured in case anyone who had seen me in person was wondering what on earth could make me look so odd...well, there you have it, at least until Tuesday!