Sunday, May 31.
9:30am: Bucket and Llama leave me blissfully alone in the house. They go to an antiques fair. I take a shower. It's only the second time I've been alone in the house in 13 months.
10:00am: I start running around like a chicken with its head cut off because I'm chairing a golf outing in just three short hours. It does, however, take my mind off of Llama's upcoming surgery.
11:15am: Bucket calls and wants to know where I am. What the heck, man!? I told you I have this golf thing. You have the baby. All day. There's no passing her back to me. No tag team relay races.
12:00pm: The golfers start arriving and handing me money. I like it. Alas, I cannot keep the money. It's for charity.
1:00pm: The golfers all leave and the pavilion is blissfully quiet. Bucket shows up with Llama because he can't bear to be away from the action for even three seconds. She runs amuck and gets ketchup, grease, dirt, funk, and God knows what else all over her pretty white shirt. I'm not watching her because I'M IN CHARGE OF THIS THING. Bucket's not watching her because he's talking to his friend and thinks that because I'm there, I should be watching her. Why can't I multitask being in charge of 60 adults and one small child? Whispered arguing ensues. I don't want everyone to see me yelling at him. (And yet I'll put it on the internet.)
2:30pm: It's Llama's naptime. Bucket doesn't want to leave. He wants me to make a bed for her in the back of my SUV and convince her to nap in it. Unsuccessful.
3:00pm: Llama is past tired, so she's running back and forth yelling at people and trying to eat rocks.
3:30pm: I tell Bucket to take Llama to his parents' house or our home, or for God's sake to anywhere but this golf outing. She falls asleep in the car, so he comes back with her and keeps her sleeping in the car.
4:00pm: The golf outing is out of beer. Not good. Two of my minions (ha!) go for more. They also bring Kahlua and cream and I partake in one.
5:00pm: Llama is still sleeping, so I tell Bucket he needs to wake her if he wants her to go to bed at all tonight. He is resistant.
5:15pm: Llama wakes up screaming. I would, too, if I had just slept in a car seat.
5:45pm: My golfers start coming back and the pavilion is loud again. And Llama is running back and forth like a heathen child. I decide to ignore it and hope that nobody recognizes that she's mine because she didn't come with me. Plus, I have to give out the prizes and thank people for coming and remind them that this was for a good cause, etc.
6:15pm: Bucket and Llama leave for dinner at his parents' house.
7:00pm: I kick the stragglers out and start packing the rest of the stuff into my car.
7:30pm: I arrive for dinner at Bucket's parents' house just in time to make them stop cleaning up and feed me.
8:00pm: We go home. I bathe an angry, overtired Llama and wrestle her into bed. Then I pass out on the couch.
Monday, June 1.
3:30am: Llama wakes up screaming. I give her Tylenol, rock her, and end up sleeping in the rocking chair for a while.
5:00am: Llama wakes up screaming while I'm holding her. I rock some more. Sing. She goes to sleep and I go back to my own bed.
5:45am: Llama wakes up screaming. Since the surgery instructions seem to imply that she's a Gremlin, I can only give her apple juice or water. No food and no milk. And I have to take away the juice in one short hour. So I bring her in bed with us and give her juice.
6:00am: Llama smacks Bucket in the face with her cup of juice while he's sleeping. I try really hard not to laugh. Unsuccessful.
6:15am: Llama smacks me in the face with the juice. Not as funny this time. Bucket is amused, though.
6:30am: I give up on trying to lay in bed with the jumping bean. The next hour and 45 minutes are spent trying to keep Llama out of the kitchen so she won't see food and want it.
8:15am: We leave. The surgery is not at the hospital, but at the outpatient surgery center near us. Much better for us.
9:00am: We arrive. Llama's finally sleeping, only now we have to get her back up.
9:15am: Explanations, etc. Everyone was very nice. They pretty much only talked to me, though. Bucket was my arm candy. Nobody seemed to think he knew much or could remember things like "She will be a little tired," or "She might be crabby." He didn't like it because he's used to being the big man in charge of everything. I felt bad because he was every bit as nervous as I was, he was just better at hiding it.
9:45am: The nurse came and walked away with my Llama. Llama didn't even care, because she had her bear and a pacifier. Bucket remarked that it might be the last time she goes happily with a stranger. We went to the waiting room.
9:50am: I went to the bathroom to cry and pray.
10:05am: The doctor came out and told us Llama was done and everything was okay. As soon as she woke up, we could go into recovery and be with her.
10:10am: They came to call us back into recovery. She warned us that Llama might cry a lot. She was not crying. A nurse was holding her and Llama was holding her bear with one hand and patting the nurse's face with the other. The nurse was surprised that neither Bucket nor I are blonde. I got out Llama's milk and goldfish, and she jumped on them like she'd never seen food before. She only wanted Bucket to hold her, so he did and they were both very happy.
10:20am: We were discharged.
So far, everything is great. Llama seems to be walking better and she can definitely hear better. And I will, hopefully, get back to my normal self in about 20 years.