I’m up in my “clobbered” office trying to figure out how I gather so much crap in such a short amount of time – like a day.  Wrapping presents turned the space into shreds and shards of tattered foiled snowmen. The desk has disappeared underneath the mounting bills and assorted cd’s we use to organize our overindulged need for photos and information about our lives.  I am feeling content, and as usual, a sense of foreboding.
This was a difficult week, albeit, fun.

We had a wonderful time in Fort Wayne. Family and friends of Larry and Cheri stood around his baby grand as we sang every Christmas song known to humankind. It was a warm, fuzzy kind of night. Fred has a beautiful singing voice and he sang every song too.  There was a guest there named Gloria. You can imagine when we sang, “Angels We Have Heard on High” and got to the long stanze of g-l-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-r-i-a! She waved like the queen of England. When we got to the 12 Days of Christmas, humor took center stage.  It was hilarious.   I laughed so hard.

On Tuesday, after we returned, I had a doctor’s appointment.  Graciously, Dr. Brown filled my band up to the 8 that it was before the surgery.  Welllllllll, let me tell you – later that night, I got the hiccups.  Typically, that wouldn’t mean anything, BUT, in my case, it made my stomach swell up.  It closed completely.  No liquid could go down or up.  I couldn’t burp.  I couldn’t swallow my spit.  It was terrible.  It was scary. I managed to sleep through the night. The next day I hoped the swelling would have lessened and I would be ok., but noooooooooooo.  I was miserable.  I called the doctor, who came back to his office, in between surgeries, to remove the fluid.  Ahhhhhhhh. Instant relief.  He took out what he had put in.  Now I’m back to square 1.

The lap band is a tool, the lap band is a tool.  Damn it.  It’s not the end all.  I sure wish it was.  For on Christmas Day, did I eat all the good stuff?  Yep!  You Betchya. Did I feel guilty about it.  Yep!  You Betchya!  Was it fun.  Yep!  You betchya.  And that is the problem.  Virginia Bakery Schneckin is my crack of choice, smathered with butter and warmed in the mircrowave.  Moose Track trail mix, dark chocolate. mmmmmmmm.  Carb heaven, calories in the thousands I’m sure.

I need my band filled again.  Maybe only to 7.  Will I ever NOT be hungry?  Nope, I doubt it.  It’s deep. Damn it.

Ah, but on the bright side of life, I can tell you we did enjoy our family immensely. 

On Christmas Eve we shared Christmas with Fred’s brothers and sisters.  They are great people and I enjoy them very much. Christmas morning we had breakfast with Emily and Mark, and Mark’s parents, Roseann and Mike. A lovely feast indeed. Then we went to Betty and Jim Listermann’s, for lunch Everyone was on their best behavior and it was a nice afternoon.  Following that, we popped in at Grandma Betty Mohr’s (Mark’s grandmother) As Fred told her, “You are one of my favoritist people ever!” She is. She is a joyfilled bundle of love who spreads sunshine to every person she meets. We were there about five minutes. Just enough to give her a hug. Back in the car we went on the journey to Ohio where Steve and Chandra’s for dinner as they host my side of the family.  Eating our way through love.  Forget the lap band. A great day was had by all.

The day following, Saturday, Dec. 26, Fred and I hosted “our kids” for the first time.  His twin sons, Scott and Steve, his daughter Krista and her husbnd, Will, their daughter and Fred’s one and only grandbaby, Kylie, my daughter, Emily and her husband Mark – “our kids”.  It was lovely.  I think I heard Fred purring from the dining room table.  No it wasn’t burps, it was really purring. He was very happy.  That made me very happy. 

Now Fred is in the basement family room watching our new TV with Bengals game in HD. He’s lovin it. I’m up in the office, as I stated above, rooting to find my desk, starting to worry about paying the bills, hating myself for enjoying eating so much, happy that I have a fabulous family and friends to make the holidays divine. Now as we look to the new year I hope it finds everyone healthy, wealthy and wise.  At least I’m praying for that for myself!  🙂

With the morning snow, Fred and I postponed our departure for Fort Wayne. We are having a Harry Potter Marathon instead. The dog and cat are fighting for spots on our laps. Eggnog, cookies and barbecued meatballs fill our bellies as the the critters whine for some goodies too.  Bliss.

I’m struggling with my feelings about food again.  My mother-in-law asked me how the band was doing.  Doing? With all the fluid taken out and now being slowly returned, once a month – I can say the band is doing nothing.  I’m eating like a starved prisoner who has found a feast waiting unexpected freedom.  What really makes me angry about this whole thing is that the first months of the band being put in, well it was heaven. The freedom was in the lack of hungry I experienced. Now I’m hungry all the time.  The freedom was not being able to swallow unless I chewed everything into liquid. Now I can gulp down whatever I want.  I remember crying with joy when the thought of eating was the last thing I wanted to do.  I want that feeling back.  I’ve had the band for more than a year now. I lost an initial 40, then I gained and lost about 20 more pounds in the last three months.  I lost it because of the hernia & surgery, then gained it because the band was empty.  Arg.