Death by Pie

I gained a pound this week.

It was Memorial Weekend. We went out of town. I did well until around Sunday afternoon and just slapped on the feed bag.

My final downfall was MIL wanting to go to Village Inn after I picked her up on Tuesday evening. I went in fully intending to not order anything for myself and having a bite or two from what the kids got. When I walked in the door there was a pie in the display case that immediately started calling to me. A Hawaiian strawberry pie.

I tried to ignore it...it just got louder. While I was helping the kids decide what to get, that darn pie came up and tapped me on the shoulder! I kept arguing that I didn't really want it but it was so persistent! The final blow was when Katie wanted to go to the display case to see what she could get. There it was, shining and beautiful, an ethereal glow around it.

All Katie wanted was plain cheesecake,

it looked like dog food next to the Hawaiian. I kept trying to resist...then the waiter came to take our order. I caved. It was so good. I did only eat half of it. I kind of felt yucky afterward, but it was tasty.

Now, tell me, which would you have chosen? Hhhhhhmmmmmm?!

I’M NOT A CRIPPLE!!!!

For the past few days I have been wearing my old boot on my sore foot. You know, the big old orthopedic boot that has a 2” high lift that is rounded, so you feel like you are walking on a boot? The one that you wrap a padded cushion around your leg so that your leg sweats profusely. The thing that you Velcro yourself into with enough strap to make it seem a bit kinky. The one that you can tuck a flask inside, thus enabling you to drink your booze at the concert? (Was that last one out loud?)

Anyhoo. I hate wearing the boot. It isn’t fun, tho it does seem to be helping. I decided not to wear it today, to see how it would do. Before lunch I put it back on. But I finally realized why I don’t want to wear it.

I’M NOT A CRIPPLE!!!!

When I wear it I look like a cripple.

I walk like a cripple: If I’m not careful I will slam the ankle of my good foot on the hard plastic edge of the boot. This is not comfy and especially attractive when blood runs down my leg. So I have to sort of swing the good leg out to avoid doing this. Hey! If I bend over I could look like Quasimodo!.

I sound like a cripple: Step……thunk. Step…..thunk. Step….thunk.

I’M NOT A FREAKING CRIPPLE. I can do anything I want to, with the exception of run very far or fast. But who wants to run anyway?

Just when I think I’m a failure as a mother

I've been running like crazy hauling people to and from activities and feel like my kids are being raised by wolves lately.

On the way home from football practice last night #3 and I were by ourselves. I told him of a situation at work with a guy that is creeping me out. I started telling him that the guy is pretty weird, but we have fun saying silly things when we see each other…but he is an odd guy. #3 stopped me and said, “Mom, remember, in first grade, when I was mean to Tyler and you told me that was bad? You told me to be nice to him. This guy might be your Tyler.” That just put me in my place. Then I told him that this guy has been saying some things lately that are really starting to creep me out. Again he stopped me by saying, “Mama, you should just do what I do when kids are saying bad things on the playground. I say Jesus doesn’t want us to sin.” I am amazed an in awe of this little guy. I guess I’m not a failure.

When telling #1 about it this morning (he got the more in depth version) he told me I should call the cops.

I guess somewhere in the middle is the answer.

I won't go gracefully into that good night

I have always prided myself on the fact that I have good eyesight. Not that I really have anything to do with it. There has always been this secret smugness inside of me as more and more people I know need glasses. When DM got glasses I giggled. When he needed bifocals I chortled. I'm married to an old man...hee, hee, hee.

Cut to present day.

I've been noticing that things are fuzzier than normal. I have to squint and move the paper back and forth when reading small print. But I don't need glasses. My eyes are fine. I'm not that old. Pay no attention to the grey hair...wait, it's not grey hair, it is highlights...yeah...highlights...platimum blonde highlights are what they are called.

Well, the attorney-du-jour gave me some documents to revise the other day. The came from a client and were in 9 point font. Normal font size is 12, so there is quite a difference. Combine that with the scribbling that said attorney made all over the paper and it was a difficult task. When I showed the mess I had to work with to other secretaries they groaned and said things like, "Better you than me." "Good luck with that." And my personal favorite, "HA!!!" I had 6 of these suckers to do! My eyes were crossing, but I finally got them done. I said to myself, "Self, maybe you should see about glasses, it might make the strain on our eyes less." Myself said, "Shut your hole, bitch! We are not that old!" Myself is a cranky one...potty mouth too. The next morning, when I arrived, on my chair was another document to revise. This one complete with tiny font, ADJ's scratchings, but to perfect my eyestrain it came in colors. The document had been created with track changes turned on. I HATE TRACK CHANGES! So I had to look at not just tiny black type, but red and blue as well. I got 2 pages into it, stomped downstairs (with my eyes streaming), lay prostrate at my BFF's feet and begged her to borrow her reading glasses.

The piece de resistance in the whole humiliating experience was when I tried them on and she said, "Oh! Don't wear them yet, they make you look old."

What is a BFF for, hhhmmmmm?

Confimation/First Communion

Saturday #3 was confirmed & made his first communion. He was extraordinarily handsome in his suit and so very excited. I was so happy for him. He has been waiting to receive communion for nearly 2 years. Afterward when I asked him how he was he said, with eyes sparkling, "Great. You know, I wasn't sure if I should drink the blood. But I figured, what the heck, this is my first time. So I went for it."

His confirmation name is Joseph. When I asked why he picked Joseph, the reply was, "Well, Joseph is Jesus' step-father. I figured that if anyone could help me to be close to Jesus, he could."

Today is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. I emailed DM to tell #3 that. #3 has football practice this evening. His reply was, "I'll fight for him in football."

Gotta love 9 year old boys!

Pain is not fun

I am in pain. Total, hideous, brain numbing pain.

If only my ankle were numb.

Yesterday it was sore, so I wore my good shoes, for which I have a note from my chiropractor in order to wear at work. By lunch time it hurt so much I was nauseaus. I took my magical meds to no effect. On the way home I called the chiro to discuss it and we were befuddled. It hurts more when elevated, but doesn't hurt more when walking on it. Very strange. I called DM to get me the cowboy cure...BOOZE. He procured rum & mojito mix. I didn't drink enough. By 10 that night I was debating whether I should go to ER or not. I hate the ER...hospitals are no place for people! Anyway, I stuck my foot in a bucket of ice water (again) and froze it solid and was finally able to sleep.

This morning when I awoke it still hurt, just not as much as last night. Saw the chiro again and we decided that I must have strained my talofibular ligament. When she adjusted me, doing a side posture (which we have done dozens of times before) my foot got hung up and pulled a little. Maybe with the mess that is my ankle, it just couldn't take it. Still, very strange.

I called the orthopod, whom I saw in January. Yes January 2008! The soonest they can get me in is Monday. Left like this I will have gnawed my foot off by then. I asked if they could call something in for me or have any other ideas of what to do for the pain. They said (notice the quotes) "We couldn't possibly call anything in for you since it has been so long since you have been here."

Since when is 3 months long?!?!

Medical Pitbull Chick reared her ugly head. It has been a long time since she has surfaced and I would rather she continue to hide in the depths of the abyss that is my soul, but she is useful when needed. "Have the doctor call me then. I have an appointment...ON MONDAY...THAT IS 4 DAYS AWAY...WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO UNTIL THEN? HHHHMMMM?" She hemmed & hawed, but said she would leave a message and took my pharmacy # just in case.

I received a call from his office. Another nurse, who wanted to assure me that they wouldn't call in anything for me...blah, blah, blah. My response was the same. I'm still waiting to hear from them. Notice I'm not holding my breath?

Sure hope I don't have to go in to urgentcare.