Idiot Injury

I'm running (that's the plan anyway) my first 5K in 8 days. I've been trying to run on my treadmill 3 times a week. I have lost 15 pounds and my endurance is infinitely better. I ran a solid 15 minute interval 2 nights ago and didn't die! I actually made it through the first 12 of those 15 minutes easily. Then I walked 3 minutes and was supposed to run another 5 minutes then cool down. I ran the 5 plus another 2! I was feeling great! So yesterday on my day "off" (from running anyway), I was wearing these slip-on Birkenstock-wanna-be clogs to take big girl to the bus and run big boy to the end of our driveway to meet his ride for preschool. When his ride for preschool brought him back home just before lunch, I headed down our ridiculously steep driveway to help him out of the truck. I apparently kicked my stupid clog partially off my left foot. When I took my next step, I landed a couple of inches out of the shoe, the back of my arch landed on the pointy back of those shoes and it HURT! The rest of the afternoon I spent barefoot until it was time to get big girl from the bus and I put my running shoes on. My foot was still pretty tender and when I took my shoes off a little later, it really hurt to walk so I donned some squishy flip flops for the rest of the evening. When I woke up and hit the floor this morning, my foot made sure to remind me that it is injured. Ugh! I put on the squishiest (is that a word?) pair of flip flops I own (still not quite squishy enough for my taste) and began my day. As soon as the hubby got up I began whining at him. What a lame way to end up injured! I don't even have a funny or awesome story to go with it! Like I injured it kicking little girl in the face after she bit baby boy's finger so hard it bled on one side and he has a mark on his fingernail on the other side. Yes, she really did that and not only is she still alive, she is uninjured. I apparently possess more self control than I was aware of. At least in the don't-murder-your-children-when-they-act-like-psychopath-assholes department. I can't even blame it on stepping on a razor sharp Lego! Just about anything else would have provided me with a decent story.
Here is how the lamest conversation in history over the lamest injury in history will go:
Random person(RP) "So, why are you limping?"
Me: "I stepped on the back of my shoe while walking and bruised my arch."
RP "You stepped on the back of your shoe and your shoe bruised you?"
Me "Yes! My stupid built-for-comfort shoes bruised me! They're sharp!"
RP "Okay, you're a psycho and we're done here."
Now I have no more friends.
I may be exaggerating, but it is still the stupidest, lamest injury ever. And I blame big girl. If I hadn't been so fat while I was pregnant with her and my feet so swollen that I could only wear crocs and had to go buy these for work, this never would have happened. So thanks a lot big girl, you ruined my foot for a few days and dashed my hopes of running on the treadmill tonight. All I can say is I sure hope it's better by next weekend because I paid 40 bucks and I am running a damn race!
Below find the offending shoe and a pic of baby boy's mauled finger.

Review of "I Just Want to Pee Alone"

I have been following PIWTPITT (People I Want To Punch In The Throat) for a little over 3 months and I already want to stalk her until she relents and becomes my best friend. I swear we must have been separated at birth because I feel her talking to me in so many of her posts and she makes me laugh until I cry. So naturally as soon as her book was available, I bought it on Kindle. I'm so sad it's over, but I've now found these moms in the great blogosphere so I can stalk, ahem, keep up with them and their future moments of hilarity.
I can't pick a favorite story from the book because I loved every single one of them. A few of those stories sounded like my house and others like I'm certain my house will become as my small children grow up. These moms have the most vital tool for being a mommy-a sense of humor. I feel like I'm friends with all of them now that we've shared some stories and laughs. At the very least, we're all kindred spirits because we all know this one basic truth: motherhood can be a real b!+<£, but she sure is funny!
I Just Want to Pee Alone is a must-read for any mom with a sense of humor. I highly recommend it and promise you won't regret your decision.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0988408031?ie=UTF8&force-full-site=1&ref_=aw_bottom_links

Insults from the hubby

I'm not sure how the conversation began but the hubby and I were talking the other night after all (wait for it) FOUR kids were asleep. That didn't last long by the way. Something was said about colorguard. I was on colorguard for a season and a half in high school. Now at my school, if you were a dancer and in an extracurricular, it was either colorguard or cheerleading. Once we got a dance team my senior year, it was a JOKE. In case you were wondering, cheerleading was the cool group and colorguard was not. Much like football vs band. Hubby was raised across the country where their dance team was actually fantastic, full of competition dancers and was popular, followed by cheerleading and at the bottom of the totem pole was what they called cattleguard. He claims it was a legitimate name. Maybe, but still mean and doesn't apply to the team I belonged to. In discussing it, he kept referring to my having been on cattleguard so I told him he was uninvited to our reunion this coming summer. He reminded me that I had said I would never go to one of my reunions and I told him it wasn't a whole school reunion, just a guard one. He started laughing and asked if we were serving steak. I couldn't help but laugh, then informed him if we weren't already abstinent, he would be cut off! We both howled for a few at our own hilarity and then the baby woke up.

Justified hubby stabbing by kid scissors

A couple of nights ago I was fixing a gourmet dinner (hey, I used the stovetop AND the oven) and big boy 4-year-old brings a piece of construction paper to me and asks if he can cut. He came home from school the previous week and showed me where he cut the sleeve of his shirt so I was a little hesitant. I went ahead and agreed, reminding him that we ONLY cut paper or we don't get to cut and if he cuts his clothes, he has to buy a new shirt with money from his piggy bank. Agreed.

Very shortly thereafter, little girl 2.5-year-old comes in and says "I cut?" I have a very hard time saying no to her unless it's something that is an obvious no like playing in traffic. I get a second set of kid scissors and a piece of paper and situate her at the little table 12 feet away from where the hubby is sitting on the couch with the baby. This is when the first problem occurs. I ASSume he is broken in enough as a parent of four that he will keep one eye on the cutting taking place while I put the finishing flourish (it's fancy, remember?) on dinner.

A few minutes later while cutting the kids' portions up for them, I hear the hubby exclaim to little girl, "You cut your hair?!" Are.You.Freaking.Kidding?! How does that even happen? Oh that's right, he was more concerned with the happenings on Facebook than his toddler with scissors. I can totally understand. He brings her around to the kitchen so I can assess the damage with a look on his face like I should be happy he brought her to me. Thank you, idiot, for not watching your child. Now let me stab you with her scissors to test their level of harmlessness that would cause you to not supervise her. I took her scissors while she jumped up and down and screamed at me about cutting. Yep, I'm totally the bad guy here. Damn you, hubby!

As I'm getting ready to take plates in to the kids, big boy brings me his cup asking for more milk and I see a funky spot in the top of his hair. I reach for it asking if he cut his hair and as he's saying yes, I see all the fine little pieces of his hair around the funky chunk. Nice...at least he needs a haircut anyway. By this time I REALLY want to stab my hubby but I decide my kids probably don't need to witness that.

After dinner as I'm clearing dishes, I take another look at big boy and see he's missing even more hair than I had originally noticed - he cut a chunk in the front of his hair too! Right on his cowlick making it less obvious. I look at my hubby and death glare him. Stab, stab, STAB!!! Thankfully, for the hubby, none of the hair is super noticeable and no injuries were sustained. Otherwise I may not have been able to contain my urge to demonstrate the "safety" of kid scissors. Those things are still really sharp, idiot! We both learned lessons that day. He that my violent tendencies lurk just beneath my calm exterior, and me that he is a total idiot who needs explicit instructions and probably a signed contract as well. I, the undersigned, will hereby watch my children under penalty of justified stabbing by my wife. Sounds good to me!

The carnage of The Great Hair Massacre can be seen above her left eye and his right eye.

Stop or you'll go blind

Remember those Mossimo shirts a bajillion years ago that said "stop or you'll go blind" in fuzzy letters? It took me a few years to understand why my mom wouldn't let me get the one with that particular saying. Mine wasn't nearly as catchy as I don't even remember what it said. Anywho, that popped into my head while thinking of picking up where I last left off - my weird eye. So the results of my scan are in and the numbers are "microns" bigger than they like to see them. Not a "huge" deal. Eye doc retook the scans they took last time and saw no changes which is good apparently. She then showed me two sets of scans taken six months apart from another patient of hers. With only dietary changes, this lady's maculas looked better. I'm a visual person so this made me a true believer in the power of diet. She said to continue with a diet high in spinach, broccoli, and berries and we would recheck in six months. So I'm not going blind just yet! I'm thankful I've gotten over being weirded out by the color of my green smoothies. That will help with my spinach and berry consumption. Not broccoli though. Only my hubby is weird enough that he can be ok chewing a smoothie. If you have to chew it, it's not smooth, and therefore cannot be dubbed a SMOOTHie!

I now have a 6 year old, a 4 year old, a 2.5 year old and a 4 month old. Time is flying! I'm not sure why but having a 6 year old is just crazy to me. It seems so much older than 5. It's like since she's now in kindergarten, 3/5 of the way to double digits, and 1/3 of the way to 18 and adulthood, I have to accept that she is truly growing up. There isn't a trace of baby left in that girl. The double party was a huge hit. My stepdad had a surprise up his sleeve - he rented the kids a bouncy house! It was a perfect day to enjoy outside and the kids had a blast. I only wish we had known with a little more notice and I would have invited a few more friends. They didn't care though. It was wonderful.

That day was to start out with baby boy's baptism. I had invited my grandparents because I knew they would like to be there for it, but they live over an hour away and our church starts at 9:30. Plus, they live on a farm so they have to feed all the critters first thing in the morning. My grandma assured me they would try but if the temperature was too cold, they wouldn't be able to because the water would be frozen. That morning my grandma called as soon as they got on the road - they were going to make it. My grandpa woke up super early and did all the chores in the dark. Now that's love. They were going to go to my mom's house and follow her to our church, 2 minutes on up the road. As we passed my mom's house on our way, I looked up at the driveway to see if my grandparents had made it there yet or not and I saw a surprise. My bro and his girl had come down! I was thrilled. I had sent them a Facebook message inviting them down but assured them we in no way expected them to come down and miss out on work. Neither one responded which I wondered about but it was such a great surprise. Baby boy got baptized and we officially joined the church we've been attending for a year and a half. Afterward we came back to Mom's house and turned it into party central. We are so blessed to have such a wonderful village for our family.