I Still Need My Mommy

Here I am 31, with a toddler, a mortgage and two cars. No garage. There's even a dog and three bedrooms with actual furniture in them and flower beds. Pretty grown up huh? Heh.

Then the mole happened. The mole with 'suspect' margins. There will be further removal on Wednesday. A nice chunk I've been told. Excellent. There's nothing I like more than having my breast sliced open first thing in the morning. I mean come on! You have your morning coffee, get in the car, and a little while later some humming, chuckling MD is using terms like cutterage and you think, "Wow. I didn't even get flowers or dinner first."

Then your husband has to go away to another state for the day and you scheduled a party with invitations and everything for the very next day. Too late to cancel and bags of products to lug and too much need for too many sitters that you can't afford. All I can say is this, "I want my Mommy!"

So she's arriving today, because frequent flyer miles ROCK. $5 for a flight cannot be beat and she'll be here to take care of T.D. and me for a few days while I moan about my stitched boob and try not to wait too hard for the biopsy results.

Despite a powder room, rec room, and fully stocked fridge, silk draperies, and running a business, sometimes I still need my Mommy.

Oh and did I mention that when I found out that little cancer cells were hanging out in my body I had to literally fight the urge to just claw at my chest and rip them out myself?