High Five for Friday

Today I'm linking up with Lauren to share some of my favorite things from the past week.

1) After a frustrating first attempt (not being used to brakes), I got Grant back on his new bike this past weekend for a second attempt and he got it! He was cruising through the neighborhood in no time. After the bike ride there was a bonus game of baseball (in which I got nailed in the thigh by a very hard hit...those plastic softballs hurt!)

2) We had to go to the grocery store one evening this week but only needed a few things so I let Grant drive the little cart. He gets so excited about it and he looks so cute pushing it around :)

3) Also this week, I was struck by a nasty stomach bug that kept me in bed for 2 days. I think Grant missed me and wanted me to feel better because on Wednesday he came home with this butterfly he told me he made for me:

He's so sweet :)

4) I love to hear Grant talk about his day, he gets very animated and intense when telling stories. One night this week he was telling us about playing with airplanes and crashing them into "chilly icebergs" (he gets this from the movie/book Planes...sort of).

5) Last, certainly not least but lacking a picture...I got the title to my car in the mail because I paid it off! Woohoo!!

Happy Friday!

Have a great weekend!

High Five for Friday

Today I'm linking up with Lauren to share some of my favorite happenings from the past week.

1) After a month or so of the "Change War" at Grant's school, we found out the winning classroom. Each classroom had a bucket to collect spare change to go towards funding a new playground in Johnston County that will accommodate children of all abilities. Grant's classroom - 2's & 3's - was combined with the 3's room. We had a big jug of change and let Grant bring some each day. He loved carrying the money to the car and then dumping it in their change bucket. AND they won! (I do get the big picture here, it was a great cause so everyone won).

2) On Sunday, I finally began my road to recovery after my surgery on Friday. I'm saying it started on Sunday because Friday and Saturday were pretty rocky days (more on that later).

3) I got a get well visit from my good friend Elizabeth and her sweet boy Henry! While their company would have been more thane enough, they also brought pretty sunflowers AND cheesecake! So I periodically broke my doctor-ordered low fat diet to indulge in some super tasty cheesecake.

4) In a crazy moment of ambition, I got out and inflated Grant's pool. It was certainly a no-no at this stage of recovery but I was going nuts all alone in the house. So after dinner that night, I took Grant outside for some great and needed play time so Husband (who'd been doing double duty taking care of me and Grant for days) could have some peace time alone. (This didn't last long because of Grant yelling "DADDY!! COME HERE!" so he could watch him too...and then the pool deflated.)

5) I got crafty! I've been eyeing this craft on Pinterest for some time and since I had all the supplies on hand and tons of time off...I made a fun, huge, number 3 to use at Grant's party and probably for pictures too.

HAPPY FRIDAY!

Have a great weekend!

So There's This Gallbladder...

A week after Memorial Day, I found myself up most of the night with a wretched stomach ache. The next night too...and the night after that...and, well, you get the idea. It went away after a week and I thought I was good. Then it cropped up while we were on vacation. So I bit the bullet and went to the doctor. 

Some blood work. A prescription. Still having pain. Abdominal ultrasound. 

Gallstones.

Blast. So I was referred to a surgeon. "See what he wants to do" they said. Um...have they never met a surgeon? Of course he wants to cut me open. It's what they do.

So that's happening. Friday morning. I'll get to what I'm calling "The Fake Hospital" (because it's just a satellite office) at 9:30 in the morning and leave there sometime that afternoon minus my gallbladder. It's an outpatient procedure. They take your organ and just send you home. Weird. 

I'm slowly getting nervous about it. Partly because its surgery (whether they cut you wide open or just suck your gallbladder out through a straw, its still surgery) but partly because this doesn't guarantee a fix for my tummy issue. Doctors have to cover the butts now with the word "probably" - like this will "probably" take care of the pain in my stomach - instead of giving you real answers. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this is the real issue. 

I'm pretty thankful that it's my gallbladder and not my liver again. My liver and I are coexisting nicely these day and I'd like to leave it that way.

Conversations With My Toddler

I seem to be having flare-ups of my undiagnosed but undeniable rheumatoid arthritis. It happens every so often and when it does...it's pretty much hell. It's a pain that I can't describe. But pressure helps a lot. So for my wrists, I have braces that I wear when I need them to get me through playtime with Grant and then to help me sleep too. Last week I was wearing one and Grant noticed it immediately.

He came over and lightly touched it.

Grant: You have boo-boo?

Me: Yes baby, I have a boo-boo. A big one.

Grant: A big one?

Me: Yup. Mama's whole body is a boo-boo.

Grant: Ok. Who did it?

Me: Karma. Karma did it.

Grant: Kah-ma?

He walks away very slowly and peeks behind the end table next to the couch. Then creeps over and looks behind the love seat.

Husband: You know he's looking for Karma, right?

He totally was.

Liver Update

Back around the beginning of October I made another trip to Chapel Hill for a liver check-up with my specialist so I thought I'd do an update since I haven't had time to do one yet.

So the big news is that I'm off the steroid. Hooray for that! And the lingering effects are gone. Which means that I am no longer sweating like I'm having a hot flash for no apparent reason. Also the swelling and bloating is also gone. My doctor told me that being off the steroid will help me with weight control...he's so subtle.

Other big news: my liver levels are normal. They haven't been normal in almost a year. It's great news because it means that my medication is working and it doesn't need to be messed with right now.

I guess I've been officially diagnosed with Autoimmune Hepatitis even though he hasn't "officially" said it. So far, it seems manageable. I'm not crazy about the "hepatitis" part of it so if I'm in a situation that calls for talking about it, I just call it a "liver condition". Hepatitis scares people into thinking that if I touch them or breathe on them that they'll get it too. Obviously, they won't...but some people are weird.

Another issue that's come up is that lot of people like to ask us when we're going to have another baby. "Is Grant going to be an only child?" "Are you ready for another one?" "When is Grant going to be a big brother?" I realize we have a child that is at an age where people generally announce a sibling. I really want people to stop asking. I realize that I'm no longer yellow and I don't LOOK sick...but my health is still an issue and will continue to be because this doesn't go away. If Grant has a sibling someday, and I really want him to, it will have to be carefully planned with my doctors (and I'm very unlikely to share about here). We would like to add to our family one of these days but that is our decision. Not one made because we have a two-year-old and it's what people typically do. My health is coming first. If Grant is the only child we have, then he will have a healthy mother who loves him and will hopefully be around a long time for him. I know it sounds like a lighthearted question when asked but it does not have an easy answer. And, frankly, it's no ones business but ours (unless we make it your business - and you know who you are because I/we already talk about it with you).

So that's pretty much that. I'm "getting better" but will never be cured. Well, who knows, maybe someday they'll have a cure for it but I think it's rather low on the list of diseases to cure. Now that the scary OMG-what-comes-next part is behind us for now, I'm adjusting to life on an immune suppressant which means I get sick often and it's harder to get rid of (although I did manage to escape catching strep throat from Grant recently). It's also a blood thinner so this fall is already a little rough because I'm very cold very often (and long term use can be linked with cancer...a "rare" side effect). I have to be on this medicine for two years before they'll consider reducing the dose but my doctor does have a plan to put this into remission, it just takes a while. My joints are adjusting to being off the steroid. As much as I hated most of the side effects of prednisone, it really made my joints feel good but now I generally always hurt somewhere. Overall, I'm just trying to get used to always feeling like something is "off" with my body. If my joints don't hurt then I have a headache, I'm lightheaded (I can't say I'm dizzy or I'll have to go to another doctor for that), I'm incredibly fatigued, or my stomach is messed up. All that aside, though, I'm better off than a lot of people. My medicine is helping to keep my liver in a time-out so we all just get along.

 PS...I was told once again by my doctor that I shouldn't drink or smoke (he did let go of the IV drug use thing). I tried to tell him that he really doesn't have to give me that lecture. I'm really not going to do it. I might be the only patient he has that's not even tempted by it. But he insisted that he's spent years arguing with people about how little is too much and that if I have a drink even three days before, it can mess up my blood work. So I nodded my head like a good patient but I have the feeling he thinks I was hiding a six-pack in the car. I'm perfectly ok with the idea that I'll never be able to have another drop of alcohol...but if he tells me I have to swear off ice cream, we're gonna fight.

Tell Me About Your IV Drug Use

I know I've been talking a lot about the liver issues I've been having for going on two months now. But there really is SO much to talk about. And even though I'm "getting better" they still don't actually know what's wrong with me and it may even be something that I'll have forever. There were three questions that I was asked by every doctor that I saw: Do you smoke (or have you ever)? How often do you drink alcohol? Have you ever used intravenous drugs?

• I don't smoke and never have.
• I rarely almost never drink. So little, in fact, that I consider myself someone who doesn't drink.
• I've never used drugs. IV or otherwise.

Seriously. I just don't it. Any of it. Never wanted to. I'm not trying be a goody-goody.

The first doctor asked the questions. I said no to all of them. And he asked a follow-up question to all of them and then that was it. The second doctor, same thing. Except he lingered a bit on the drug use. "You're sure not ever?" he asked. I'm sure. The end.

Doctor number three - my current doctor at UNC - would. not. drop it. And he phrased it differently too. This exact conversation happened at my appointment on December 20th:

Doctor: Do you smoke?
Me: No.
Doctor: Have you smoked?
Me: Nope.
Doctor: *suspicious look* What about alcohol?
Me: I don't drink.
Doctor: *big sigh* Even once a year?
Me: Well, yeah. I had a glass and a half of champagne on my anniversary last month.
Doctor: And the date of that?
Me: I had the champagne on November 19th. If you're interested, the last time I drank before that was a glass of wine last Christmas Eve.
Doctor: Tell me about your IV drug use.
Me: *stunned silence* Um...well, I...I don't...I haven't...I don't.
Doctor: You're sure?
Me: *WTF?* Yeah. I'm sure. Not ever.
Doctor: Not ever? Even a long time ago. When you were younger.
Me: *Really?!* I'm sure. I've never done drugs. Of any kind. I don't even take NyQuil if I have to go to work the next day. I've never done drugs.
Doctor: Are you sure?
Me: Yeah.
*Doctor stares at me with skepticism all over his unhappy face*

He asked me if I was sure so many times that I actually started to convince myself that I may have done it! I know that, as a doctor - and a liver doctor at that - he gets lied to frequently about people's...uh...bad habits. But he was starting to make me feel like I needed to go to meetings for an addiction I don't even have.

A few weeks ago I had a follow-up visit with him that was pretty much just going to be a question & answer appointment for me. I asked Husband to go in case he had anything he felt like he needed to ask but also because I wanted him to see and hear how condescending this man could be. So, of course, he was much nicer this time. Convenient! Husband and I ran through our questions with him, went over my blood test results, and asked more questions (he never even examined me). My last questions to the doctor: With the medication I'm on, is there anything I shouldn't be taking? Things I need to stay away from? He says "You shouldn't be drinking alcohol. Or doing any drugs. You shouldn't be smoking. People don't think smoking can affect your liver, but it does. Don't do any of that."

I quit.

Ok, so he's not all bad. Last week I left a message for his secretary on Friday because I hadn't gotten my test results from that week yet (my blood was drawn on Tuesday!) The doctor actually called me back on Sunday afternoon so he could discuss the blood test results with me (which were good, not normal yet, but getting better) and let me know his plan for weaning me off the steroid I'm on. I'm starting to think he might not be a giant a--hole like I had originally thought but maybe just socially retarded. Whatever the case, I've decided to stick it out with him for a bit instead of launching my search for a new liver specialist.

That's my liver on steroids :)



The Pity Purse

Sometimes...you just gotta splurge. And the past few weeks, for me, have been littered with tiny pity parties for myself. Please know that I try very hard, no matter what I'm going through, to avoid pity parties. Especially because I'm not big on sharing my problems...so my pity parties end up putting me in kind of a dark place. Which makes me not so fun to be around. I try to be tolerable. I try to remind myself that even though I'm the sick one, that I have plenty of people that are going through this with me (and on the days when I'm not bitchy and feeling sorry for myself, I very much appreciate them). Last week, after my fake diagnosis but also after giving myself some time to process some of the information, I had a moment of complete weakness and I splurged on myself. I call it my Pity Purse.

For those that are near Raleigh, NC...have you ever been downtown to the purse shop Stitch? If you haven't been and you are a lover of bags...make a trip. My friend, Elizabeth, and I saw the space 3 years ago when we worked downtown together (possibly closer to 4 years). The shop was empty then and Elizabeth commented that I should open up a bakery there - which would be a great space for that as well, just not for me. And one day on one of our lunch outtings (Hey Elizabeth, I miss those by the way!) we saw what went into the space. And since that day I have been lusting after a Holly Aiken bag. And now, ladies and germs, guess what? I have one :)



Behold...The Pity Purse. Ain't it purdy?

I walked into the shop last week knowing the design I liked and wanted. But I didn't see the colors I wanted. So I asked. None were in stock but..."We can make one for you" said the girl in the cute outfit that looked like she's supposed to work in a shop like that. Make one for me? How long will it take? Right about two weeks. Ugh. Oh well, it's the one I wanted. So I ordered it. I didn't get the instant gratification that came with walking out of there with that great bag right then and there. But I left knowing that they were making a bag just for ME :) And did it take two weeks? NOPE! I got to pick it up yesterday! A whole week early. And It's perfect. I love it. Already. And I haven't even really used it yet. But I love it.

P.S. My very understandng Hubby didn't give me one ounce of grief over my indulgence. He can be pretty awesome that way.

(Even if you're not near the Raleigh, NC area you can still check out the Stitch/Holly Aiken website. Most of her stuff is available on her site. I love that she went to school here, set up shop here, and that all her bags are made here. She has some really great stuff and it's so unique. It's a great splurge on a local product if you feel the need to spoil someone or yourself - like I did.)

An Update

Because of the medical problems I've had since the beginning of December, I'm now going every week for blood work to check my liver function. Still operating on the assumption that problems were related to a drug reaction I've been going back and forth between periods of feeling pretty good and periods of wanting to lay around the house and do nothing. Two weeks ago, after my weekly blood tests, I got a call from the nurse. My levels, that had been declining, had gone back up. I told her I was feeling ok, a little under the weather, but nothing too terrible but that I had been told by two different people that my yellowness was coming back. This being a Friday afternoon, she named off every severe symptom I could possibly have and then told me if I have any of those that I need to get to the ER at UNC (which is no less than an hour from my house) and not to go to any other ER. So what happened then? I had a stomach ache as soon as I got off the phone with her and I felt like crap. I was worried and tired of being worried and tired of not knowing what was wrong with me. So I pretty much laid around the house in a vegetative state all weekend - being asked several times by Husband if I just wanted to go to the hospital and he was serious (he was pretty worried too).

So having gone back to my less-than-appealing yellow color, I had my weekly blood tests done last week knowing that the follow-up phone call wasn't going to be great news. And it wasn't. My levels had shot up at a crazy rate in only a week. The doctor made the decision to put me on Prednisone on the chance that I have autoimmune hepatitis but also because he really just needed to do something to treat me. The way the nurse put it, she made it sound like he was diagnosing me with autoimmune hepatitis. So I started googling (which I try not to do with medical stuff but I couldn't help it) and immediately convinced myself that I was probably going to die. After that I had several conversations with people about how much I hate the doctor I go to and how the medical system in this country is so awful (I know...blah, blah, blah).

Having managed to finagle an appointment for this week, I started plotting all the ways I could make this doctor sorry I ever walked into his office! I talk a big game. I had said I was going to go in there with tons of questions and he is going to answer them, damn it. I think I had five questions total. And all of my desire for confrontation was gone by the time I sat down in that exam room yesterday. But the good news is, I feel better after talking with the doctor - who was much slightly less of a condescending douche bag than he was upon our first meeting. Contrary to what the nurse led me to believe, he is not convinced I have autoimmune hepatitis but felt very much like he needed to treat me with medication so my liver wouldn't burn itself out while it waits for a diagnosis. Because of the Prednisone, my levels have come down significantly (which he said would have happened even if I don't have autoimmune hepatitis) and I'm feeling really good. I have to try to stay away from sick people because this stuff weakens my immune system but it also gives me an INSANE appetite and I don't think I've ever had this much energy in my life. This past weekend I felt like I'd had 2 whole pots of coffee and was just plowing through some housework...and I'd not had one bit of caffeine. It was nuts! They're decreasing my dosage each week...which is good because I'd really like more than 4 hours sleep in a night and my hands shake in a way that makes nervous to shave my armpits in the morning. And I'll be happy when my appetite goes back to normal, too, because I'm about to eat anything that isn't nailed down. But hopefully I'll start feeling a little more normal in the next week or so. And that's really all I have to say about that. (Forrest Gump...anybody?)

*Side Note: Remember when I said that my meds weaken my immune system? Well, must be Grant realized how I've not been feeling very well and he decided to bring me home a present from daycare. Pink eye! Hooray for me! Next time I think I'd just like a finger painting or a macaroni necklace.

It's Medication. Maybe. Or It Could Kill You.

So yesterday Husband drove me to Chapel Hill to see the liver specialist. Both of us were sort of looking at this visit as a formality. After all, I was told just this past Friday that the biopsy showed that my condition was medication related. My appointment was at 2:00 - in the Transplant Clinic. That was a little off-putting, but I was confident that it was going to go well.

Be there 20 minutes before your appointment time, the letter says. And I was there 20 minutes before my appointment time (30 minutes, actually but I had to stop at registration). And then I wasn't seen until 20 minutes after my appointment time. So, the nurse does her thing and then the doctor comes flying into the room. Or maybe it just seemed like he was moving really fast because he was short. No hello, how are you, introductions...nothing. He just sits down and starts looking at all of my labs. And he talks to me in a way that makes me think he really doesn't like having to talk to or see people on a daily basis. He tells me that by looking assume it was medication related. I love it when doctor's tap dance around a simple "I don't know". But he also told me that there was a "marker" that was positive in my biopsy that could indicate autoimmune hepatitis. And if that's what it is then it needs to be treated - it's apparently not curable but is treatable - because "It'll kill you if I don't treat it". Fantastic. I walk in thinking I'm getting better...I leave thinking I possibly have a disease that will kill me if they don't figure out what the hell is going on. And then, before sending me down to the lab to have more blood drawn, he tells me not to worry. And I really wasn't that worried. I was a little, of course, but I was also kind of angry. But not nearly as much as my Hubby who was ready to call the doctor from last week to ask why he gave me a diagnosis that this new guy isn't sure about yet.

So we get home and go about our nightly routine. After I get Grant to bed, I did some dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. Then I crawled into bed for some good reading. It was 10:15 when I was just about to turn off my Kindle. And guess what? Our house phone rang. A phone call that late is never a good sign. I figured someone was sick or hurt. We didn't get to it in time and Nate says "That was your doctor on the answering machine. I think you need to get up and call him." I. Was. Pissed. 10:15?? What's so urgent? Then my cell rings. It's him. "I want to talk to you about your labs from today" he says. No apology for the time. No mention of Gee, I hope I didn't wake up your baby since your house is probably the size of the garage where I park my Mercedes and every phone you own is ringing. Nope, just started talking about my labs. And what was so urgent, you ask? NOTHING. He called to tell me that my labs look good are even more improved from last week. That it looks like I'm getting better and it's probably not autoimmune hepatitis. He calls at 10:15 p.m. for that. That and I won't have to have more blood drawn until the week after next "so I was hoping to talk to you about setting that up". What? This couldn't wait until, say, 8:00 a.m.? Ugh. This is why I try to avoid doctors.

And the Biopsy Says...

After my liver biopsy on Tuesday (while getting a peek a the sample because the ultrasound tech was cool like that) I was told I'd have my results in a day or two. When I talked to my doctor, though, he told me I wouldn't get results until this coming Tuesday at the appointment with the liver specialist. So I prepared myself for another weekend of sleepless worry (and not just mine, Nate too - this hasn't been easy on anybody).

But Thursday I went back to work, after a quick stop at the hospital lab to have more blood drawn to check my liver levels again, and I felt decent. A little sick still when I ate and, of course, sore where they shoved a needle in my side but otherwise not too bad. Then yesterday I woke up actually feeling pretty good and feeling something else I hadn't felt in a while...hungry. Hmmm...was I getting better? So I went about my morning. I was surprised to notice around 10:00, I think, that I missed a call from my doctor's office (who I have an appointment with that afternoon). I checked my voicemail and it was the actual doctor, not his nurse, asking me to call him back. Uh oh. So I call, ask the receptionist for him and in a second he picks up and says "Hello, Tara? I have good news for you. I have your pathology results and I was hoping to save you a trip into the office." Wait...what? I was not expecting any of that.

So he tells me that my condition is related to medication that I've been taking. He also tells me that the biopsy showed no signs of permanent damage to my liver AND my levels are going down. He even cancelled my afternoon appointment because he was encouraged by the results! I still have to see the specialist on Tuesday in Chapel Hill because he's taking a second look at everything.

I can't even begin to tell you how relieved we all are. Last night I slept better than I have in a long time. It's amazing what unexpected good new can do for you. I'm feeling so much better and I think my yellowness going away. My veins are really relieved too. My arms look like I decided to become a crack whore. They were starting to hide from the blood people. Although I should point out that people in lab at Rex Hospital are really good at what they do. I wish I could go back there every time I have to have blood drawn. But anyway, I'm so happy that I'm going to be ok and we're going to be able to have a Merry Christmas.

THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone for the help (especially to my sweet Hubby and my Mother-in-law!), the concern, well wishes, thoughts, and prayers!

*Side note: If you're wondering what medication it is, I was told there is no way to tell. I'm supposed to bring to two likely culprits with me to my appointment on Tuesday but I don't think they'll do anything with them. My doctor thinks it's either my birth control pill (I've been on this specific one only since September) and an over the counter medication for a UTI - which I sort of self diagnosed myself with. I really want to blame it on that - and even if it's not that, I'll never take it again - but I just don't know. And it's not my job to know, right? It's just my job to not take them anymore. I can handle that.

Which Outfit Goes Best With Jaundice?

I haven't felt well for a couple weeks now. Since Thanksgiving weekend. I figured it was something I ate, then I thought it was a stomach bug. A couple people who knew about it all asked if I was pregnant. Absolutely not. So this past Thursday after I got out of the shower I looked in the mirror and got a little scared. I called Nate into the bedroom and I asked him if my skin and eyes look yellow to him. He kinda made fun but quickly stopped when he said "Umm...yeah, you're yellow." And then the fun began.

That day I went to just a general doctor who threw every scary possibilities at me (including pancreatic cancer) and took some tons of blood. Then he sent me for an abdominal ultra sound to check for "blockages" which of course made me think they were going to find all kinds of tumors and I was going to die (the doctor actually was hoping for a gall stone stopping up my plumbing). Nothing. Ultra sound was clean except for a "slight" inflammation of my liver and spleen. So Friday I went to a gastro guy who once again took my history and ordered more blood tests. And then an MRI of my abdomen on Monday.

I'm not a claustrophobic person...but that MRI tube gave me some anxiety. And I left there once again feeling like they were going to see something awful. Nope. Clean. What to do, what to do? How about more needles? But let's make a big one. So Tuesday, I had a liver biopsy done. "Don't worry," the nurse at my doctor's office said "It sounds scary but they'll sedate you. You won't know what's going on. You'll just need to have someone there to drive you."

Liar.

They most certainly do not sedate you before shoving a large needle into your troublesome liver. And honestly it wasn't too terrible. But they SHOULD sedate you before sending in the socially awkward nurse to attempt THREE TIMES to start an IV. She eventually gave up (after bruising me in all three places) and someone else - much more friendly - came in and got it on the first try. Just start with him next time. So they did the biopsy and I was sent off to recovery to lay still for two hours with Nate to keep me company (who refused to give me my phone to play with).

No joke, I look like I've taken a position
at Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

So at this point it was about 3:30 in the afternoon and I'd had nothing to eat all day (finally had something to drink when I got to recovery and it was the best tasting ginger ale I've ever had!). The very sweet nurse was going to bring me some graham crackers but on second thought brought me the hospital menu and ordered me a sandwich. I went with grilled cheese thinking it would be easy to eat from the above position. I wasn't sure how my stomach would handle it but I took one look at it and it was gone in about 3.2 seconds. I was starving. After that I was discharged and took yesterday off as well to rest up. I'm not allowed to lift anything over 20 pounds - and that includes Grant - for 5 days. On the off chance my liver decides to spring a leak. 

This morning it was more blood work and tomorrow another follow up with the gastro guy. Next week I go to Chapel Hill to see another specialist who, I'm told, should have my biopsy results. The doc seems to be leaning toward a virus but it apparently could be related to medication or an autoimmune thing. They've ruled out the big bad stuff so we're all very relieved about that.

 Regardless of the outcome, I will be very glad to have this all over with (I'm so tired of needles)! It's put a huge kink in all my Christmas plans (and my Christmas baking!)