A "Friend-ly" Visitor

Yesterday, Noah and Eli were getting ready to take Joey for a walk. He got crazy excited, per usual, and as they headed out the door, Noah told Joey to get back inside. He told me there was a cat outside, and he didn't want Joey to see it.

When the boys stood on the porch outside, the cat noticed them and immediately ran right up to them. I've never seen a cat crave attention so much! He was solid black from head to toe, with the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen. I fell in love at first sight!

The kids wondered if it was Chip, from a couple of summers ago, the cat that we fed and treated for fleas and all that. I don't know if he was, in fact, Chip--but it's possible.

This cat was SO adorable! He literally couldn't get enough attention. He was super into Eli (animals are always drawn to Eli, likely because he's so compassionate toward every animal on earth) and kept running up onto Eli's lap, even climbing on Eli's shoulders.

Whenever the kids would stop petting him, he started bumping his head against their hands, wanting them to pet him again.

I couldn't stand the cuteness! I send some pictures to Jerry, and he said, "We are taking him in. His name is going to be Ben!" (Ross's son's name from Friends--to go with the theme of our pets, of course).

The cat looked pretty healthy and well-fed to me, so I said he probably belonged to somebody. Taking in a stray cat was not on a list of things I wanted to do, but when I fell in love with this cat, I was sure I wanted him. I decided to post a message on our neighborhood app to see if anyone was missing a black cat. I told the kids that if he came back around tomorrow, we'd consider keeping him if we couldn't find his owner.

The kids played with him for well over an hour outside. They gave him catnip and treats, and Eli brought out a couple of cat toys. I told Jerry that "Ben" was no cat name--and I said if we take him in, then I think "Geller" would be the best name for him. I actually think that's a great cat name! (Clearly, we are running low on "Friends" names)

And yes, the boys did take Joey on his walk. Poor dog was wondering why he was still in the house! ;)

Noah came inside to get his camera, and then when he went outside again, the cat was all over him. Noah tried running to the driveway to get some good pictures from a little farther away, but the cat ran SO fast at him that he wasn't able to get a good photo! It was so funny to watch.

The cat didn't come back today, unfortunately. If we see him again, and we can't find an owner, Jerry and I definitely want to take him in. He's the sweetest cat ever! <3 p="">

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The "Golden Rule" That Helped Me Lose 125 Pounds

When losing weight, everybody asks how you're doing it. It's inevitable. And everybody wants to hear the special secret to it. Eating nothing but lettuce? Eating pounds of bacon and zero carbs? Eating only red fruits, green veggies, and white meat? Consuming nothing but coffee and smoking cigarettes? Dancing around a fire in the woods at midnight every day of the week?

I could always see that the spark of interest in their eyes while they asked the question was immediately extinguished when I said that I was just eating less food. (And eventually, exercising--I started exercising after I'd lost 60 pounds.)

I used to be just like them. I read every single success story, every single weight loss book and magazine, watched weight loss shows like The Biggest Loser... constantly looking for the special secret that I could do.

I tried all the diets, and I never stuck with them long enough to see results.

On August 19, 2009, I had an epiphany. It was the first day of yet another attempt to lose weight. I made an important decision after that first day of my (eventual) 125-pound weight loss. It's kind of funny how it came about...

There are very few foods that I dislike. I am willing to try eating anything at all, several times over. One food that I've tried umpteenth times is yogurt--I hate yogurt! I've tried all the flavors, all the types, and there is just something about it that I cannot stand.

I also don't love salad. I don't "hate" it like I do yogurt--sometimes I'll go through phases where I really like it and eat it for a few weeks--but I am definitely not a salad person. You will never see me go to a restaurant and order a salad.

Well, never say never...

(I must have been in a phase! But if I DO order a salad, it'll always be a caesar)

So, you know what I did my very first day of losing weight on August 19, 2009?

I ate both of those foods! I gagged down yogurt, because hey, it's "healthy" and that's what you're "supposed to eat". For lunch or dinner, I can't remember which, I ate salad. I'm sure that I wasn't in a salad mood and I probably gagged that down as well. WHY?

That night, when I was thinking about how much I hated trying to lose weight, and how badly I wanted to quit, it occurred to me that I hated it so much because I ate foods I didn't enjoy and I didn't eat the foods that I do enjoy. It seems completely backwards. Of course losing weight was miserable!

I decided that day that I wasn't going to do it anymore. I wasn't going to eat foods I hated just to lose weight. If I lost the weight by eating yogurt and salad, I would likely have to do that forever to maintain the weight loss. And that sounded miserable to me.

Another instance from that summer was when my friend asked me if I wanted to audition for The Biggest Loser with her. Even though I was fatter than I'd ever been, I said no. I was desperate to lose weight, but I was NOT willing to exercise for eight hours a day and eat next to nothing in order to drop 5+ pounds a week.

I told her that if you lose the weight that way, the only way to maintain it is to continue to do that. Your body will get so used to it that you'll have to continue. And of course I would burn out. I knew for sure that even if I auditioned, and was chosen, and hell, even if I WON the show, I would never be able to maintain that lifestyle. And I didn't want to live in misery for months on end while losing the weight.

Between those two instances, it finally hit me that I had been doing it all wrong for all of those years. Every time I attempted to lose the weight, I made changes that I hated. I tried doing tough workout videos, I tried eating yogurt and salad, I tried cutting out carbs, I even did a 10-day "master cleanse" where I consumed nothing but water with lemon juice, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper. I could lose the weight in any of those ways if I stuck to them (I lost 16 pounds from the master cleanse, but a month later, I was right back to where I was before), but I certainly couldn't do those things forever.

I guess technically, I *could* do them forever... so that is why I chose to word my newfound "golden rule" the way I did:

Don't make changes you're not willing to do for the rest of your life.

This is something I've talked about and written about from the beginning of my weight loss, and it's probably been the biggest key to my weight loss and (semi) maintenance. Whenever people ask for my weight loss advice, the first thing I say is "Don't make any changes you're not willing to do for the rest of your life."

That sentence says so much and so little at the same time. I don't think I've ever written a post that really explains how and why that became my golden rule and how it helped me to stay determined to lose the weight, so that's why I chose to write about this.

I could certainly use a reminder myself right now! ;)

From that day forward, it was my golden rule. It's tempting sometimes to try all the new fad diets that everybody seems to be doing, but I just don't want to live like that. I want to enjoy my life!

(This is a reason I never wanted to get weight loss surgery, either. Eating tiny portions of food and getting sick every time I ate something I wasn't supposed to--for the rest of my life--was just not something I was willing to do.)

My golden rule made the process of losing weight more enjoyable. I don't want to say it was "easy" (nothing about losing weight is easy), but it made the process easier, enough to make me stick to it for the long term.

I was willing to eat smaller portions. I was willing to eat healthier things during the day if I could still have something for a "treat" at night--dessert or wine or something like that. I was willing to eat out less and cook more.

I was NOT willing to give up carbs. I was not willing to give up any foods that I enjoyed. I was not willing to force myself to exercise (at the time; I later wanted to do it). I was not willing to eat differently than my family (i.e. "special" foods for me while they ate "regular" foods).

And what a shocker--it actually worked!

I didn't have to do or eat anything I didn't want to, and I didn't have to give up things that I love. I only made changes that I was willing to do for the rest of my life, if need be.

It's such a hard thing to do when there is advice everywhere online--what to eat and what not to eat, what's the "best" diet for weight loss, what's the "healthiest" way to eat, etc. I try not to let that get in my head. The only thing I've ever been able to stick with long term (10 years now) is doing what is feels best for ME.

And I like ice cream. A LOT.

The things that I'm willing or not willing to do may change here and there, but that doesn't matter. As long as I stay true to my golden rule, I can enjoy my lifestyle.

It's so hard to believe it's been over 10 years since I had that epiphany. But I know that if I hadn't, I would have failed at that attempt at losing weight just as surely as I had all the other times. I found a better way. And it worked.

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Just a quick (satisfying!) ASMR video

I am SO SORE today from my fall yesterday. I can't walk without limping, and there is a clicking noise from my knee whenever I bend it. Everything hurts. Falling so hard at this age... well, it's not fun!

I really want to go to bed, so I'm just going to share this video I took while scraping Nathan's ceiling (this was before the fall). When I posted a similar video on Instagram, lots of people commented on it being ASMR. I had no idea what that meant, so I looked it up.

ASMR stands for "autonomous sensory meridian response". That didn't mean anything to me either. In a nutshell, it's basically a video or sound that creates a feeling of relaxation. (This website details it better)

Scraping the ceiling isn't fun, but I learned that if I let the water soak in for about 20 minutes, it'll come off much easier (as you'll see in the video). This video makes it look like it's SO easy to scrape! It's usually not as easy as this looks, but this area--for some reason--came off as sooth as butter.

I guess I can see why this creates ASMR for people--if only the ceiling would scrape off this easily all over!

Enjoy! Haha ;)

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Boom! Hit by a Truck.

Ugh.

That's how I feel right now. Like I was hit by a truck.

My brother, Nathan, is in Chicago with his girlfriend Alex; my sister, Jeanie; and Jeanie's husband, Shawn, at a "roaring 20's" themed murder mystery dinner. I'm so jealous! I have wanted to attend a murder mystery dinner ever since I first heard of them. And a "roaring 20's" theme is so cool.

Anyway, while Nathan is gone, I decided to go to his house and work on his popcorn ceilings some more. I'd started on them a couple of weeks ago--spraying water on them and scraping off the popcorn texture--and today I finished the living room.

I started with the hallway (twice as long as mine). Once I got the hallway done, I did half of the living room. I didn't want to leave it halfway done, so I went there again today to get it finished before he comes home tomorrow.

Nathan has a black lab, Bailey, so I like to take Joey with me to play with Bailey while I work. Unfortunately for Joey, Bailey is too old and stubborn to want to play with him. She just barks at him when he takes her bone.

Anyway, today I went to Nathan's to finish scraping the texture off the ceiling. I brought Joey with me and he was thrilled. The poor dog gets crazy excited when I even mention the name "Bailey".

I went to Nathan's, changed into my "painting" clothes (clothes that I can get super messy) and started working on the living room. I taped plastic sheets to the floor (Nathan just got new carpet, so I have to be meticulous when removing this texture).

And then it happened. It was awful.

I was taping plastic around the fireplace, because trying to clean drywall compound from bricks and mortar would take forever. So, I moved my ladder as close as I could to the fireplace, and then I hung a sheet of plastic from the ceiling. As I was taping it, I braced myself against the mantle. (In the photo below, the mantle is sitting on the bottom of the fireplace. You'll understand why when you keep reading.)

When I got to the far right of the mantle, I was reaching ahead (to the right) to press the tape to the wall. In slow motion... the mantle fell out from under me, flipping up into the air, catching me by surprise. In the craziness of that, I must have shifted my weight on the ladder, because the ladder (that I was standing on!) tipped out from under me. (Apparently, the mantle wasn't screwed in very well to the bricks.)

In less than the blink of an eye, I was falling to the ground. I hit the bricks on the fireplace without really realizing it, and I remember vividly landing on my ankle, which rolled underneath me. After falling on my ass and thanking God I was still alive (I was so sure I was going to die), I started assessing my injuries.

My ankle? I was pretty sure it wasn't broken, even though that felt like the worst injury. My elbow was killing me (both the joint and the skin, because somehow, I had broken a brick from the fireplace with my elbow!) and my butt hurt from hitting the bricks as well. I even had a hole in my pants on my right butt cheek where I'd hit the bricks!). Overall, my neck, left shoulder, left elbow, and left ankle were really bothering me after the fall.

My elbow is going to have a big old bruise tomorrow.

I was really shaken up after the fall--when it was happening, I was so sure that I was going to die--I'm too old to fall that hard!--and I sat down for a few minutes to just breathe.

Once I realized that I didn't need to go to the hospital for any reason, I got back to work. I hung the plastic and started scraping off the popcorn ceiling.

I worked on it from 10:30-4:30 today, and finally finished scraping off all the texture. Next up is sanding it all smooth and then painting.  I think it's looking better already!

I'm super bummed about my fall today, though. My ankle is in pretty bad shape. I can't walk without a limp; and any movement I make, I feel pain somewhere. I'm super grateful that I haven't started my actual half-marathon training yet--right now it's just walking--but I'm sure I'm going to have to take time off from it until my ankle heals. From what I've read, it'll take 3-6 weeks!

Every single time I work on a house project, I wind up injured in some way. This time was definitely the scariest. It happened so fast, but it felt like slow motion.

For an ankle sprain, it's suggested to focus on R.I.C.E. (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation). I don't know how well I'll be able to follow that, but I'm going to try! I want to feel completely healed so that I can start training for the Detroit Half.

I feel awful today, so I can't even imagine how I'll feel tomorrow! Hopefully it heals fast...

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What's the story behind your pets? (A writing prompt)

I'm so glad it's Friday! Even though the kids had two days off for snow days (Wednesday and Thursday) I am totally ready for the weekend.

I don't have much to say, so I'll do a writing prompt today. I know I've written about my pets a trillion times, but I love to write about them, so I'll do an in-depth post of my pets :)

We have three pets right now: Phoebe, Estelle, and Joey. Phoebe and Estelle are cats, and Joey is a dog. Jerry and I have always named our pets after "Friends" characters--we loved the tv series!

I'll write a little about Chandler, too, because he was our first pet (cat) that we got together. He passed away a few years ago.

Chandler

We adopted Chandler from the animal shelter when he was just a kitten. He had a sister, Monica, who adopted as well. I hate talking about Monica, because it makes me really sad--but she died just a year or so after we got them.

At the time Chandler died, he was the fattest cat you've ever seen. He weighed 26 pounds at one point! Chandler was the most loyal and chill pet we've ever had. When Noah and Eli were born, he loved them and stayed right by their sides. Most cats avoid little kids, but Chandler let the boys play with him and he was just very chill.

Chandler was the BEST at killing catching birds! For being a fat cat, I have no idea how he was able to grab a full-size robin out of the air and leave it on the porch for us. I eventually decided he needed to be a house cat, because I felt bad for the birds.

I wrote a post when Chandler crossed the rainbow bridge, which you can read here. 

I miss Chandler so much sometimes! Telling the kids (especially Eli) was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

Now, for our current pets...


Phoebe

Phoebe is a female orange tabby, which is actually very rare. Most orange tabbies are male. I didn't know this until several years after we adopted her. When we got Phoebe, she was a stray that a friend-of-a-friend had taken in. Someone in a Mom's Club that I belonged to asked if anyone was interested in taking in a stray cat that her sister had, and Jerry convinced me that we should. I always want to take in animals! But I'm the practical one when it comes to that.

When we picked her up, I remember thinking how soft she was. Her fur feels like rabbit fur. And she's very petite--she only weights about 7-8 pounds. She was missing half of her tail and we could feel a lump under her skin that I was SURE was a bb (from a bb gun). Eventually, we learned that it actually was a bb, meaning someone had shot her!

Phoebe is special. There is something about her that is very human-like. She's extremely sympathetic--whenever someone in our family is upset, crying, she comes and loves on us. When I broke my jaw, she was all over me all the time. When I go through depressive episodes, it's the same. I'm convinced that she has some sort of sixth sense for sadness/depression and she tries to help.

Phoebe didn't always love on us like she does now. She was very skittish and generally avoided people. One day, we noticed that she was hiding in a closet a lot. It was odd. When I took her out, I noticed a wound on her back near her tail that looked very infected. I don't know how it happened, but I'm assuming she got in a fight with another animal (at the time, we let her go outdoors).

(I love this picture! It's funny because now it's the squirrels that are looking in our windows, hahaha)

I took her to the vet, and he said she would need surgery. The wound was very infected and he'd have to cut away the dead skin and sew it up; but he said that he wasn't sure she'd have enough skin left to sew up. I said I wanted him to try doing the surgery anyway.

After surgery (it went well!) she had to wear a cone on her neck for two weeks. We had to keep her away from the other pets to make sure that she didn't somehow get the cone off or something like that. So, Jerry and I kept her in our bedroom and bathroom. We put a litter box in the bathroom and we didn't let her leave the bedroom/bathroom for two weeks.

At that time, I think she learned that we were kind, and we were doing what was best for her. She became more and more friendly toward us. By the end of the two weeks, it was like we had a different cat! She was so cuddly and loving. And she's been like that ever since. She is still wary of strangers, especially young kids. When Luke and Riley come over, she hides out in my bedroom, but she adores Jerry, me, and the kids.

Phoebe LOVES peppermint. Whenever I even put on Burt's Bees lip balm, she comes running in to try to lick my lips (yes, I let her, haha). She even climbs the Christmas tree to get candy canes!

We had a very interesting scare with Phoebe, in which I was SURE she was dead and never coming back. Ever since then, we've done our best to keep her inside. She is super sneaky and tries to get out whenever she can, but we try not to let her out. It was so scary when she was gone! Cats like her are the reason behind "Cats have 9 lives". She's used up 8 of hers, I'm sure.

I adore Phoebe. She's now about 13 years old (we don't know for sure, because she was a stray--but the vet estimated about two years old when we got her in 2009). I hope she's one of those cats that will live until she's 25!


Estelle

Most people don't know exactly who Estelle was on the show Friends. She was Joey's agent--she was rarely on the show, but when she was, she certainly had a smoker's voice and her personality was... large.

My friend Andrea called me (in 2009) and said that there was a stray cat in her neighborhood who was getting food from all the neighbors, and she was a "beautiful!!!" cat. Andrea is allergic to cats, otherwise she certainly would have taken Estelle in. I really didn't want a third cat (at the time, we had Chandler and Phoebe); Jerry said we should at least go look at her.

Since I'm a total sucker, I agreed to go check her out. When I got to Andrea's, Estelle was in her garage eating food that Andrea had given her. She was the ugliest cat I'd ever seen! 😂

I don't know if I'd ever seen a tortoiseshell cat before, but I definitely didn't think she was "beautiful!!!" like Andrea claimed. She looked like a stereotypical "alley cat" and that if she were human, she'd be a chain-smoker with a chain-smoker's voice and have a big personality. We both knew immediately that we'd name her Estelle.

Since we got her, I've learned so much about tortoiseshell cats! Firstly, tortoiseshell cats are almost always female (unlike the orange tabbies).

From the day we brought her home, I was unsure about Estelle attitude--she was constantly flicking her tail when we would pet her, and having had cats my entire life, I was sure that meant she was mad. Cats (in my experience) would only move their tails like that when they were about to bite. To this day, 11 years later, she's still flicking her tail constantly!

I also learned that tortoiseshell ("torties") are very vocal. And Estelle will tell you just how vocal she is, haha. The second we walk in the door, she meows at us. And if you call her name or pet her or give her attention in any way, she "talks" to us. I've never had a cat like her before!

From going to Purina events, I learned about "tortitude"--which is "tortie attitude"--and Estelle definitely has attitude. She is very much "in charge" all the time and she lets us know by voicing her opinion (literally). She completely ignores us sometimes, and other times, she adores us.

I'm her favorite--probably because I'm around her the most--and she follows me around like a dog. When I sit down, she's on my lap in seconds. If I have my feet up and my computer on my lap (like right now), she curls up and sleeps on my shins.

Estelle is the most curious cat I've ever seen. Curiosity is also a typical trait of torties.

She certainly has tortitude, and she makes us laugh every day. Some days, she's totally interested in "the red dot"; others, she looks at us like we're complete idiots for thinking she'll fall for it. She knows how to play "fetch", too. She loves the wires that have the plastic covers over them (whenever I strip a wire for whatever reason, I cut the rest of it into pieces that are about 4-5 inches long just for spoiled Estelle). We can throw one, and then she'll go fetch it and bring it back to us to throw again.

When she wants to, of course! ;)


Joey

We adopted Joey in 2015, long after I had established my Runs for Cookies blog in 2011. Jerry and I had been talking for a long time about getting a dog for the boys--I feel like boys should grow up with a dog--and I read SO much about different breeds. Everything was so conflicting, and I hated the internet for giving me TOO MUCH information about everything.

I told Eli that morning that we were thinking about getting a dog. His request was that we get a "black dog". I kind of didn't want a black dog--I'm not sure why, but I just didn't think black dogs were as cute as other colors.

Jerry and I went to the animal shelter and check out some dogs. I wanted to be able to spend some time with the dogs to see their temperament, and the shelter allowed us to do that. We were even able to take dogs into the room where they had cats, so we could see their reactions.

We walked through the rows of kennels, letting the animal control officer know of any that we'd want to spend some time with. I walked right past Joey's kennel, but Jerry saw something in him and he told the officer we wanted to see him. Jerry is usually very "go with the flow" and I was surprised that he said that. Anyway, we continued through the rows until we'd chosen 3-4 different dogs to see.

The first dog that we had brought into the room with us was a mixed breed (I can't remember what breeds). I loved that dog! He was very sweet, and I loved that he didn't jump up on us or get too crazy when we petted him. I was sure that's the dog I wanted. But Jerry really wanted to see Joey (who the shelter had named "Louie").

When Louie came in, he went right to Jerry. He didn't jump--he just rolled right onto his back and let us rub his belly. Jerry immediately wanted him. He was SO sure that I didn't even argue.

And he couldn't have made a better decision.

Louie--who we renamed Joey--was the best dog we could have gotten! And it just so happened that he was black, which was what Eli requested. (I later learned that black dogs are much less likely to get adopted... so sad!)

From the very start, we knew that Joey was perfect for our family. He's a black lab/chow chow mix (also called a "chabrador" or a "chowbrador"). He loves humans, and thinks he is one. We don't have a fenced in yard, but we don't need one--he sticks right by us, and has never wandered off.

This is a before and after photo--before and after we adopted him:

The cats completely own him--he knows that Estelle is the boss of everybody, and he listens to her. However, we call him "The Sheriff" sometimes, because when we say, "ES-TELLE!" (when she's mean to Phoebe or she looks like she's about to claw the furniture or something like that), Joey rushes over to put his face right in her face and stop her from doing whatever it is she's going to do. It's hilarious!

Phoebe and Joey are buddies, in a way. Since Estelle is the boss, Phoebe and Joey are on their own. And they are each jealous of each other. If I call Joey, then Phoebe comes, too. If I call Phoebe, then Joey is there instantly. The two of them sleep with Eli every night (Estelle sleeps with me).

Joey would be "the perfect dog" if he could just learn to walk with a leash. Whenever I put a leash on him, he pulls on it. I wish he would learn that he could walk the same speed if he would just step a couple of inches backward to stop choking himself! We've had him for five years now (I can't believe it's been that long!) and he still hasn't gotten used to the leash.

But he's such a great dog in every other way that the leash thing is no big deal. And I love that the boys have a great dog to grow up with.

---

I really can't stress this enough...

PLEASE, if you are thinking of getting a pet, go to a shelter! There are so many fantastic cats and dogs at shelters and it breaks my heart to think that they may spend the rest of their lives there. My kids know that we'll never get a kitten or a puppy--and it's because I have told them that the kittens and puppies are the first to get adopted. There are adult cats and dogs at the shelter that are SO great--like Joey!--and they just need a little love. They will be your best friend for choosing them.

You can find just about any breed at a shelter. And my favorite breed is "mutt" ;)  So it doesn't hurt to check them out at least.

Phoebe, Estelle, and Joey are the best pets ever--I love their different personalities! From Phoebe's sixth sense of sympathy to Estelle's tortitude to Joey's "big dumb puppy love", we have the most amazing and entertaining pets.

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Blessing in Disguise? (Jerry's ridiculous haircut story)

Just a forewarning: there are gross photos in this post, so don't look at if you're eating.

If you follow me on Instagram, then you know the short story about Jerry's haircut. But more came of it after that, and it turned out to be kind of a big deal.

A little over a week ago, Jerry decided to cut his own hair (with clippers). Usually, I'll cut it for him--I've been cutting Noah's, Eli's, and Jerry's hair forever. I don't know why he wanted to do it himself, but he came out of the bathroom and he'd clearly cut his hair.

It didn't look too bad, actually, but I noticed that he missed a spot behind his right ear. I told him I'd fix it for him, but he said he could do it. So, he went in the bathroom, and we were talking while he started up the clippers. I wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing (and neither was he, obviously).

He said, "OH NO!" and I immediately felt panicked. Then a million thoughts went through my mind in a fraction of a second and I burst out laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. I knew what the "OH NO!" was... because it was a huge fear of mine every time I cut the boys' hair.

He forgot to put the blade guard on, so he shaved the spot completely bald.

Yes, seriously. I was DYING. We both laughed so hard that we were crying. We were wheezing.

I asked what he was going to do, and (I don't even know if he was joking) he said he that was going to shave the other side off, just like the first, so it would look deliberate. When he said that, we both started laughing all over again.

And then he did it!

I have not laughed so hard in the longest time. I immediately posted pictures, because it was a funny story.

He wore a hat, but the next day, he decided he was going to just shave his whole head. Everything. And this is when things got strange.

When he shaved his head, there was a "weird" spot on his scalp that we'd not noticed before. We started Googling every phrase we could think of: "weird spot on scalp", "bumpy patch of skin on scalp", "bumps on scalp", etc. The only thing that came remotely close in resemblance (ugh, the Google images of everything we looked at will never leave my mind!) was a birthmark--and he was sure he hadn't been born with it.

I told him he really should make an appointment with the dermatologist. So, he was able to see our dermatologist rather quickly, and she did a biopsy. Yesterday, the results came back and the office called him. They told him that it was a "nevus sebaceous"--which actually IS the birthmark thing we'd saw online!

It's basically a hair follicle tumor--almost always benign--but it's a congenital malformation, so it happens before birth. If it's not removed early, then as an adult, and changes appearance to look like what Jerry's looked like.

The doctor said it was benign, but that our insurance would cover its removal because there is the potential for it to turn cancerous. He asked how soon he could get in (he hated how it looked--after shaving his head, it stood out). Yesterday was a snow day for the kids (today was, too!) and a lot of people had canceled appointments at the dermatologist's office. So, he was able to get in just an hour after the phone call.

He went in and the doctor numbed his scalp, and then cut out an eye-shaped piece out around the nevus sebaceous. This is the piece that she removed:

She gave him eight stitches to close it up. Now, he'll have a minor scar, but he's glad that the thing was removed. His head his killing him, though.

So, it's interesting that what was a hilarious story about his haircut turned into finding this tumor on his scalp and then having it removed. I don't know if he ever would have noticed it otherwise!

I'm glad that it was benign and that everything turned out well. We will always laugh hysterically about his accidental haircut, though ;)

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