Today we started the cabinet re-facing in our kitchen.  Well, technically the professionals started it, with our permission.  We were up until 1 a.m. last night–or, technically, this morning–clearing out the cabinets in anticipation of this event, which we have known for some time was coming on this precise day, but which we did not really start preparing for in earnest until 10:50 p.m. Sunday night.  We have a lot of cabinets, in case you were wondering.

So the cabinets will be getting their makeover for the next couple of days.  We are having our evening meals at my mother-in-law’s house, since she has a functioning kitchen.  On Thursday she is supposed to have the missionaries over for dinner, which means that we will all be having the missionaries over for dinner.  I have not yet determined what we will feed said missionaries.  I like to avoid feeding missionaries, myself.  I let my husband volunteer to feed missionaries, since that means he will do the cooking.  Unfortunately, he will not be here Thursday evening because he will be on a business trip.  He will be gone on Friday also.  Girlfriend’s birthday party is on Saturday, and it just occurred to me that I have not yet verified with my husband that there is no possible chance that he will not be back for Girlfriend’s birthday party.  It is important that there be no possible chance of him missing Girlfriend’s birthday party, since I only allow my children to have birthday parties if their father is home to run them.  Either way, it is a bit late to cancel anything, so perhaps it’s better if I just don’t know.

Girlfriend invited 24 children to her birthday party.  That is a Madhousehold record.  So far I only have four negative RSVPs, which is…disappointing.  Well, the party will also be at my MIL’s house, which is something.

I still don’t know exactly what we’re doing at this party.  Did I mention that my husband usually runs these things?  If I were in charge, no one would celebrate anything, ever.

Which reminds me, tonight we’re going on our monthly family excursion to the public pool.  That is another thing I wasn’t in charge of inventing.

In other news, I am really starting to stress out over my as-yet hypothetical jaw surgery.  Not only am I stressing out over the thought of possibly getting surgery–I’ve never really had surgery before–but I am stressing out over making the decision.  I have not taken any action toward making an informed decision.  I think, deep inside, or possibly not so deep, that I want the decision to be made for me.  I’m very good at dealing with decisions that have been made for me.  You see how well I’m dealing with taking the family swimming tonight and having a birthday party with 20 five-year-olds on Saturday, even though those are two activities I would never, ever, in a million years come up with on my own?  I could deal with having surgery or not having surgery, as long as I didn’t have to feel responsible for choosing.  The choosing is really starting to be painful.  Is this how New Hampshire voters feel?

The thing is, whatever I decide, I can’t change my mind.  And it’s not like I’m going to decide and then immediately do it and get it over with.  That’s another thing I’m good at–spontaneously deciding and then jumping in and getting it over with.  But that’s not what’s happening.  I have to decide, and then I have to wait another year or so until my teeth get in position, and then I will finally do it.  That is plenty of time to develop regret and second thoughts.  Also plenty of time to become anxious about the prospect of being knocked out with drugs and waking up several hours later with my jaw wired shut, knowing it will stay wired shut for six weeks.  I don’t fear the pain.  I can do pain.  It’s the not being able to chew that worries me.  Chewing is important to me.  It’s a big part of my life, chewing.  That’s how I eat.  Eating is very, very important to me.  I’m not much of a talker, but eating is a thing that I do a lot of.  I do not look forward to the prospect of six weeks of not eating food that must be chewed.

Also, what if something goes wrong?  What if I get surgery, and my problem is not solved?  What if it gets worse?

However, what if my misaligned jaw is causing me to sleep poorly and is at the root of my problems with depression and other ailments?  What if fixing my jaw could solve all of my problems? 

Actually, that seems unlikely.  BUT WHAT IF???

I can’t even think about it anymore.

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