Thursday, October 3, 2013

An Adventure in Curse Words

Got a total kick out this.  She takes after her father, because her mama doesn't like seltzer at all...

Well, that went well...  Eain being away for 48 hours, I mean.  Everyone is still healthy and has no broken bones.  That's my definition of "well" these days.

Thursday AM:  Although I was sweating buckets by the time I got to my seat, I made it safely to work.  Yes, I drove myself even with a broken foot.  I avoided the highways and took the back way in, figuring that it would be easier.  All the starting and stopping of the back way wasn't exactly easier.  But arrived in the parking spot unharmed and was able to pull out Hot Wheels from the back of the Pilot fine.  Then I had to wheel myself across campus.  My normal walk into work from parking lot to desk takes 10 minutes walking.  I've never actually calculated the distance, but wouldn't be surprised if it was over half a mile.  That's a long way to wheel...

Thursday afternoon:  Didn't quite make it through the work day without incident.  While trying to traverse an empty waiting line at Subway (I now ate lunch about two hours late in hopes of a thinned out crowd), my Hot Wheels hit one of the cones that holds the rope and lost balance.  I ended up stepping on my broken foot HARD to maintain an upright position.  Thankfully, I did have my boot on, but was scared out of my gourd because it hurt like a SOB.  When I got back to my desk, I realized that it hurt under my arch (which is one HUGE black bruise) and the top of my foot where my broken bone was located wasn't tender at all.  And about 20 minutes after elevating it, it wasn't hurting at all.  So I think that I just aggravated the healing bruise underneath the bone (I'm totally taking a photo of that bruise for prosperity's sake).

Please do not mind the scaliness and dried cracks in foot.  I haven't applied lotion and that skin has rubbed against anything over than the inside of my walking boot.  You can see the bruise was already starting to heal on the outside by the yellow closer to my heel.

Thursday PM:  Let the curse words begin...  Made it to Finn's daycare without incident.  They have been so wonderful.  They allow me to call in and they bring her out to me for both pickup and dropoff.  It helps immensely!  I ordered a pizza on the way home for delivery.  I would strictly on crutches for Thursday evening.  We have a detached garage with multiple sets of steps to get to the house and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to carry Hot Wheels into the house.  My neighbor Bob was going to bring Hot Wheels into the house for me on Friday, but I felt guilty asking him to bring it on Thursday and then having to call him on Friday morning to take it to the car at 7:30am.  So it was Crutch-ville for Thursday night.  I knew that I was going to be tired and didn't want to stand on crutches to cook dinner & that I wasn't going to be able to carry anything picked up through a drive-through window to the house on crutches -- hence the delivery pizza.

I open the door to the house to let the dogs out and find Finn's diaper had been knocked off the table and onto the floor.  And Munk took the opportunity to pee on it and all over the 3' x 8' kitchen rug underneath.  Given rare occasions, Munk likes to "mark" things that smell like pee or poo -- which is why we can't allow him access to ANY of the cats litter boxes (they are behind gates or doors), because he will smell nasties and pee on them in a heartbeat.  There must have been a lingering smell of a dirty diaper from some point when we were out and didn't have a trash and he saw an opportunity and took it.

So tired, exhausted me, what do I do?  I completely lose it...  I can't move or stomp my feet, but my voice sure isn't broken.  I was so frustrated, I yelled and yelled and yelled.  Girlfriend just started at me like I lost my mind (which I now know in that instant, I did).  I yelled at nothing because Munk had run away from me in that moment and Bishop is deafer than a doornail.  Once I drug the heavy rug out of the house, I called for the dogs to go outside.  Munk's thoughts were "Hell no, I ain't going by you -- I KNOW I'm in trouble.  I ain't going out there..."  Bishop's thoughts were "I'm standing on the bed upstairs and I'm barking!  I'm standing on the bed upstairs and I'm barking!  I'm standing on the bed upstairs and I'm barking!"  She couldn't hear anything that I was saying -- so I had to hop upstairs to get her to come downstairs to go outside.  And after about 10 minutes of coaxing, Munk finally went out as well.

I resolve myself to taking the rug and diaper bag to the basement after I put her to bed because E forgot to clean out the cat boxes that morning, so I had that chore on my list anyways.  I feed the dogs and realize that I'm not going to have enough food to last me until E comes back to buy more and there is no way that I'm going to be able to go to the store and carry a huge bag to the car.  I have enough for the following morning and will figure it out Friday afternoon.

Then Finorah does what she does best. She starts screaming because I won't give her another marshmallow.  The pizza is on the way, but how do you explain to a 19 month old that if you only wait 10 minutes we will be eating.  But believe me, I tried...  She also dialed my brother about three times and as I'm trying to snatch the phone away from her to see who's male voice message I'm hearing, she is running just slightly out of my reach -- knowing that I can't move fast enough to catch her...

The pizza guy arrives to the wrong door and I have to call him over to the right one.  Once he leaves me standing outside my door with a huge box of pizza, I realize that I have no idea how I'm going to get this sucker into the house, let alone into the living room where Girlfriend and I can relax and eat our pizza.  So I get my  MacGyver juices flowing and realize that I can put everything onto the computer chair that was moved into the because it had wheels on it and it helps me scoot around.  I loaded it up!  Pizza box, plates, Finn's milk, my nalgen bottle of milk, my phone, napkins, a diaper and wet-wipes along the way...

We finally get to the living room and are able to relax for the hour and half or so that is left until bedtime and vegg out.  She ate way too much pizza and cinnamon breadsticks, but she is happy.  So am I.  That's the evening turnaround.  Everything else starts to click into place...  We successfully change two diapers (thanks, pizza!), she gets a bath, we get in bed on time. She falls asleep, I'm able to edit some photos from the previous weekend that make me smile, I am able to get the rug into the washing machine with some difficulty.  And while down there, I realize that it's actually a good thing that E didn't change the litter and that Munk peed on the rug because the cats were completely out of food.  So sometimes, things happen for a reason and even though they aren't what you expected or wanted, they are exactly what needed to happen so you can help someone else who really needed your help.

Friday AM:  I had my old girl back!!!!  There was absolutely no fussing, no crying!  We were all laughs and giggles.  I had her to daycare by 8am.  They came out and picked her up.  She cried, but she always cries when I'm in the car for her morning dropoff.  (E said that on Thursday morning, he dropped her off without me and she didn't cry at all.)

The thing that absolutely made my morning though?  Girlfriend was playing in her basket (she is a total hoarder, but that's for another post) and she started singing the ABC song all by herself.  She got all the way to the letter "g" before she ran out of the right letters and then just started singing jibberish in the same tune as the ABC song.  The letter "f" was a little sketchy, but I understood what she was trying to say and hey, it is a hard letter to say sometimes.

This is my desk at work -- I hung new photos of her and everyone has stopped by to tell me how adorable she is...

Friday afternoon:  The work day was uneventful, which is fabulous for a Friday.  But I didn't go to lunch, so that could have averted any disaster that was waiting to strike in the cafeteria.

Friday PM:  Our neighbor had to bring in Hot Wheels for me when I got home, which was a huge relief to have it back in the house.  Underneath my arms (the whites of my biceps) have huge bruises on them where I hug the crutches to my body and having to use the crutches for an entire evening has exacerbated those bruises once again.  Our neighbors also invited us over for dinner, which relieved me of that chore.

We had a couple of issues while walking over.  Everytime I go over with her by myself, I'm always dropping her off.  She refused to come to the front door and stood in the middle of the driveway.  Poor Bob had to come out of the house and pick her up, screaming.  Once she realized that I wasn't leaving (after about 10 minutes), she released her death grip on me and loosened up.  In fact, she was running from person to person asking them to pick her up.  We watched some of the Indians game (Go, Tribe!) and then Anne walked us back over for the evening.  There were even tears shed when we tried to leave Bob & Anne's house and more tears when Anne tried to leave our house.  It makes me happy that she is both getting more comfortable with others and developing bonds, but part of me is wondering if she is just upset because I can't do anything with her anymore and she is attaching to those that can.  *insert big sad face here*

As of yesterday (10.2.13) -- you can visibly see how bloated my foot is.  I don't think it's swollen -- I think it's bloated and needs to have blood pumping through it again (not just sitting there).  My toes feel like your fingers do when you walk for a while & haven't moved them, they become like sausage fingers.  Now I just have sausage toes...

Saturday WAY WAY TOO early AM:  I woke up at about 2:30am and had to pee in the worst way.  And darned if those stupid crutches didn't wake her up...  Normally, E is there to keep her in bed.  Not this time.  She cried the instant I hit the bathroom doorway.  She continued to cry until she walked in the dark bathroom, looking for me.  Then she refused to come back to bed once I was back in bed.  I was so afraid that she was going to walk toward the stairs and accidentally fall down them.  Maybe she heard the desperation in my voice, but after 2-3 minutes of laying on the hallway floor crying, she finally crawled up in bed with me.  But she didn't fall asleep again until about 3:30--4:00, she was extremely restless...  Long day for us today....

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