Karmic Situation

3 weeks. 

Torn labrum repair was supposed to be 3 itty bitty weeks of recovery.

I woke up from anesthesia and the doctor broke the news: not just a torn labrum, but a wonky femoral head leading to shredded cartilage. He sutured the labrum. trimmed the cartilage, shaved down the mutant ball joint and drilled little holes in the socket where the cartilage was missing. The idea is that those little holes need to bleed and form scar tissue to replace the cartilage in that spot. WHICH means recovery stretched to 8 weeks.

Crutches for EIGHT WEEKS.

No driving

No gym

No work

6 hours a day in a CPM machine

Sleeping in torture boots

Physical therapy twice a week

Solitary snacking habits completely exposed

This is my life for the next two months. 

I've taken over a healthy chunk of the couch. All my snacks and meds and charging chords and tissues and paperwork and blankets and boxes of whoppers wedged between the cushions.

We have a running theory that someone in our family must have put out some pretty bad karma recently. Megan's got a trick shoulder, head cold and and a raging bacterial infection that has kicked her in the metaphorical butt. Laney is, at this very moment, at urgent care with a possible case of strep throat. Everly has a wart on the bottom of her foot that just won't quit. Mark is just emerging from Covid. 

AJ, Mat and Ethan should look over their shoulders...it's just a matter of time before the next round of plagues hits this house. 

Color coded

Things have reached a new level of intense when it comes to the kids and everything they are involved in over the summer. We need a calendar. A big one.

With color assigned to each kid and a legend and a personal assistant.

Having fun can be hard work!

Optional

The longer I am a parent the more I learn. Children have a way of stripping all the fluff away. They stick around just long enough to whittle you down to the lean and the mean...they serve up opportunity after opportunity to examine your motives and methods. You eventually realize that you have to get brutally honest with yourself about what you consider absolutely "essential".

This automatically re-categorizes a large portion what you used to feel vitally important into the "optional".

It's simultaneously terrifying and liberating.

Shoes on everyone's feet?

Optional.

Matching dishes?

Optional.

8 hours of sleep? Nutritious side dishes? Cute hairdos?

op...tion....al.



Kind words?

Essential.

Forgiveness?

Essential.

Thick skin?

Very helpful.

2 ply toilet paper? A hot shower? Functioning space heater? Access to good chocolate?

Absolutely crucial

Where gratitude is due

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank the bigwigs at Walmart for making all those little toys so accessible to my tired, shopped-out little kids. I really think that is so thoughtful of you to set up a little miniature day-care for my little pups while I load my groceries and what-nots onto the belt.

It's customer service at its finest.

And to show their gratitude, they always make sure to give all the toys a quick "spit-shine" before we tidy up and go on our merry way.

It's the least we can do.

Busted.

I walked into the bedroom tonight...innocently putting away a stack of laundry.

Then I realized that Mark had discovered my secret stash.

Horror struck my heart and a chill ran up my spine.

The Nutella has been compromised.

Medication

Do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you might head straight for the refrigerator and take a swig of the baby's whole milk just to take the edge off?

I'm having one of those days.


And I'm going in for seconds.

The Daily Strange

Do you ever find yourself sitting down to have a nice lunch on the bench by the bathrooms at Walmart consisting of popcorn chicken from the deli, free popcorn from the bank branch located just to the left of the bathrooms and a cup of yogurt dished up with a fork?

And instead of feeling ashamed, what you really feel is relieved that you don't have to make anybody lunch when you get home. 

And you know there is a leftover enchilada in the fridge just waiting for you. 

These are grand rewards, ladies.