*** Skip this part if you want to pretend I am a responsible person that makes good choices. Keep reading if you need affirmation of my non-stop stupidity, or want to spew a beverage onto your keyboard.
So, there I am, at work on a Saturday. We had planned a work day, and much of the staff was at my child care center. Also, the janitor was there. One of the people that was there had put bagels in the oven to toast them. Then, someone else said, "Mmmmm, what smells so good?". Just then, two of us went running toward the kitchen, trying to ward off the smoke alarm detecting our failure. I was in the lead, trying to get to the kitchen. My Saltwater sandals, with zero tread, hit the wet floor, and I flew. My head hit the door jamb, my lower leg hit something equally hard, and my right arm caught my fall. I lay there for a bit, getting my bearings, waiting for the nausea to subside, when I noticed wetness. Lots of it, too. I realize that my head is having some issues. I cover it with my super-absorbent sweatshirt, waiting for the bagels to be saved. I ask someone, "Hey, would you mind peeking to see if I need stitches?" She says, nope, and digs in. No bueno.
Soon, I am sitting, waiting for the husband, with ice taped to the ankle, and a blood-soaked rag holding more ice to my eye. 5 hours and three stitches later, I am bummed. Not only because this all caused me pain, but the residual effects.
- I missed a training
- I will possibly (Who am I kidding---"possibly") be in pain for a while
- I have to let my friend down, who's son I was to be watching the next day-because my husband has taken over, knowing I won't say no, and said he forbids me watching extra kids the next day while he's gone with the birthday party crew
- My upcoming week at work is busy already, without having to deal with pain
- I just got to experience a couple good days after a nasty flare up
Then, to top it off, I see my look has already made it to the runway....
Anyways, there I am, at home, laid up with a banged up ankle, stitches on the eyelid, and major pain predicted for the foreseeable future. It also happened on the day of my son's birthday sleepover. Brilliant, me.
my husband has locked me into one end of the house, and has meds, water and snacks lined up, along with some movies, and lots of extra pillows. Every time I try to leave the room, I get sent back to bed. He really knows how to take over when I need it, but fight it. :::::swoon:::::;
In walks Princess, with her big brown eyes, dressed up like a true princess. She says, "Mama, I'm going to make you something very SPECIAL." I say, ('cause this has happened before and her last "something special she named 'vegetable chum') "oh, no, baby, don't do that, I'm just fine." She responds with, "Oh, don't worry, it will be with all the things you can eat. And, (as she scrunches up her shoulders, hands clasped, head tilted fetchingly) it will be made with a special ingredient: LOVE!" Crap. There's no way out of this, unless her ADD steps in the save the day, and a family of squirrels plays tag on the roof......
Nope, no squirrels. No other diversions. She even needed help opening some of the ingredients. no, bear in mind, my daughter is aware I am dieting. She also knows I like to eat healthy. So, bless her heart, she incorporated all my favorites, kept into consideration my allergies, AND produced a wonderful concoction:
I am one lucky Mama. What you see here is:
- Daiya cheesey shreds, both mozzarella and cheddar
- Lettuce, organic of course
- Grape tomatoes
- Low-fat mayo
- Chunks of fresh-ground peanut butter
Yes, I tried it. How could I not?