And Then I Blogged About It...

Every six months I take Jack to the cardiologist for a check up (which means roughly every five months and 29-30ish days I am in a terrible stressy mood and have to drink three glasses of wine or I am a beast) and so far, every six months have come with the very good news of, "No change." Now, with a situation that will not get better or improve, "no change" is absolutely what you want. However, the older Jack gets the greater the odds are that the message will become, "Some change" and eventually, "Change" and when that day comes my boy will need to have his pulmonary valve replaced (and I will need more than three glasses of wine). The goal here is to try and get him to the end of the growth spurt which is roughly age 18-21 which, for those of you doing the math, is at least five more years, or ten more visits, or thirty glasses of wine (6.5 bottles).

You're welcome, California wine industry.

Fortunately, Jack is awesome and healthy and right on track and there are some massive improvements with the sheer invasive-ness of the surgery he will need and so it isn't the type of thing I need to obsess about more than twice a year... but obsess I do and after every appointment I breathe a huge sigh of relief and then I go and purchase something stupid.

Today I bought a jumpsuit from the Kardashian Kollection.

Jumpsuit. Kardashian. Kollection with festive "K".

I love it. From the faux wrap top to the drawstring waist to the, wait for it, gathered ankles, I adore the damn thing and, as I have declared on Facebook (the Bible of social media), once it arrives I will take and photoshop a picture of me for your viewing judgement pleasure in all my jumpsuit wearing horror/awzumness.

And honestly, trying on a damn jumpsuit and modeling it for my kid who just got a clean bill of health and having him call me Mugatu is exactly the kind of laugh I need every six months.