TGIF

     So those of you born in the eighties may remember a time when the best TV was friday nights, part of the TGIF shows.  Classics like "Perfect Strangers", "Full House" and other eighties favorites.  That isn't what this post is about.  This stands for Thank Goodness its February.  January was a rough month at our house.  It all started when we got back from vacation and our top of the line less than six months old fridge starting showing ER 1F.  This is obviously an error code of some sort and not a good sign.  Classic me, I went to Google.  Turns out it is a faulty part in the ice maker and so I called to have it fixed since it was still under warranty.  They ordered the part and scheduled a time a week and a half later to fix it.  In the meantime, the code disappeared.  The parts came and the repair appointment came and I mentioned it was working fine but the technician assured me two parts were recalled and it needed to be fixed.  I put my precious frozen breast milk in a cooler and he took care of it.  Problem solved.  Until the next morning when I went down and noticed water pooling on top of the freezer door when I opened the fridge.  When I opened the ice maker compartment water flooded out.  I opened my freezer and discovered to my horror that everything in it was thawing.  Ice cream was melting at this point.  I was flipping out and called customer service immediately at seven in the morning.  The told me the soonest they could get someone there was the next morning, even after I explained I had two whole weeks worth of breast milk in there.  So much for customer service.  When the tech came the next day he informed me the new circuit breaker they had put in was bad and he promptly drove over and got the one they had removed the previous day and put it back in.  At this point all my food was in coolers on my front porch and my freezer was reading seventy degrees inside. I then headed off to the gym for spin class.  While dropping the kids off I heard a crash and looked down to see Bailey's bottle had fallen out of my bag.  I wasn't too worried since it had a screw cap on not a nipple but then I noticed milk spilled on the floor.  The twist part of the cap was still on but the actual top had cracked right off and her whole bottle was on the floor.  With nothing to eat I couldn't leave her so I told Shad we needed to leave.  He promptly started throwing a fit about not wanting to go and I bribed him with a promise of chicken nuggets, dragged him to the car and promptly started bawling.  When they said it was no use crying over spilled milk they clearly were not talking about expressed breast milk.  The same week our vacuum died and then my phone completely crashed.  I figured I was safe since things are suppose to happen in threes.  I couldn't get myself to throw my questionable breast milk out without trying it so I figured I would give Bailey one bottle and see how she did.  She did completely fine but I did notice it smelled funny.  Not sour, but like fish.  The next day I tried another and same thing, it smelled horrible.  Once again I got on google and read several things suggesting it was high lipase.  Maybe, but I figured I better call the pediatrician.  They said dump it.  I couldn't just dump it all so I thawed and opened every single bag.  They all smelled like fish except the two that were from after the freezer thaw.  I poured over 230 ounces of breast milk down the drain, and yes I cried my eyes out.  In the meantime, our internet quit working.  I really thought I was going to lose it.  Finally, they got a new new part for the fridge and the internet guy came and I thought we were set for a while.  Then I went in to the ENT to have a hearing issue checked and find out why I haven't been able to sing since moving here.  The singing is probably just dehydration and nursing related but it turns out my hearing is another story.  I was diagnosed with otosclerosis, a genetic condition that is exacerbated by pregnancy.  I can't hear voices in my right ear at all.  Turns out I have a 50 decibel loss.  There are options, and I may eventually have surgery.  But recovery isn't really an option with two young kids (technically you shouldn't lift anything heavier than your own shoes for six weeks.)  Since it is going to get worse not better I have decided I might as well do something about it now.  I go in to get fitted for a hearing aid this Thursday.  I always joke because of my knitting and refusal to dye my hair etc that I am 29 going on 200.  Sadly, now I will have the hearing aid to fit the part.  Fortunately we live in a modern world and I won't have to just deal with slowly slipping into silence and learning sign language.  (This was a very legitimate concern of mine.)  I am lucky that my nerves etc are still great and technology should be able to keep me hearing the rest of my life.  I am just glad January is over.