Me, The Hypochodriac

Since I'm a bookworm and all, I just finished another book. Firefly Lane. Awesome book about two best friends and well, about life in general. I sobbed buckets. Boohoo'd. Couldn't even read the words for the cocktail of tears and mascara. One of the characters in the book dies of inflammatory breast cancer. Here's where the hypochondria comes in - now I'm worried about breast cancer! I almost didn't google IBC, only because I was affraid I would end up with all the symptoms. But google I did. No symptoms, thank God. But I have had a red patch on one of my boobies for a few weeks and I'm hoping it's nothing to worry about. I overanalyze everything anyway. I have a dr appt on the 24th of April and I'll mention it to the doc then. In the meantime, I'll just have to keep my mind off of it.

Lets talk Noah. He's been talking up a storm and saying every single thing. . and repeats every single thing. Can't say "shit" in front of this kid or he'll say it a thousand times over the next few days. He's not even looking forward to the Easter Bunny because we informed him that he wasn't getting an egg sammich, but instead a big ole basket full of goodies. No can do. He won't have it. Of course Easter isn't about egg sammiches, but about Jesus - and he does know that. He prays and says the sweetest things. I have a grandmother that speaks her mind about everything and isn't affraid to hurt anyone's feelings. I guess it's her age. Noah seems to pray for her a lot more than he does everyone else. His new phrase when he does something he shouldn't be doing: "I just kiddin". Yeah, right! But it's so darn cute to hear him say it. Noah is the bestest little boy on the block!