Very few things can bring the world together. A large portion of world is joined as they watch athletes compete in the Olympics or World Cup. Another large portion joins together when there is a horrific tragedy, such as tsunami or earthquake. Yet another gathers when a celebrity dies, such as Michael Jackson or Princess Diana.
Today, I joined the largest of all gatherings. I watched the announcement of our new Pope. Of course, Catholics watched. This is the leader of our religion-not simply a pastor, or bishop-but the leader of our religion world-wide. Others watched too. Some watched because it was on every major news outlet, twitter, facebook, etc and there was no escaping it. Many others watched out of curiosity. Very few elections are held in such secrecy. Very few occasions cause people to run from their homes in order to hear a name announced. Whatever the reason, BILLIONS watched from all over the globe.
I am Catholic. I am one of those who have become disillusioned by the politics, the scandal and cries of poverty that come seemingly every week. I still pray and try to be a good person. I consider my relationship with God to be personal, just between Him and me. But still have hope that someday, I can bring myself to enter a Church without cringing with hypocrisy.
As I watched the announcement of our new Pope, I was filled with hope. As I waited, I imagined him in the Room of Tears, crying with the crushing weight of the responsibility placed on his shoulders. I prayed for God to give him the strength to do what is right for us and power to explain his choices to us. I prayed for God to give him guidance as he steps down this new path of his life.
The announcement of Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio to the papacy has given me hope. Just by choosing to be called “Pope Francis” he is breaking with tradition. He is the first Jesuit, the first ‘Francis’, the first non-European. I am hoping he will be merciful in his dealings with gay issues, allow more participation by women, and wield a heavy hand on those involved in molestation.
This is a new chapter in Catholicism waiting to be written.
What do they all have in common? They are things on my ‘to-do’ list for the day. Each of these things can be accomplished in 20 minutes or less. And yet- and yet I can’t get my ass moving. I poured a cup of coffee and went to the living room. Running through the list in my head, I started to prioritize. I could put my roast in the crock pot by noon at the latest. I could wipe down the bathroom after my shower. Hmm…I don’t want the washer running while I’m in the shower, so that has to wait. Ugh. Now I need another coffee.
So I gathered up yesterday’s newspaper, and sorted through the coupons and found all the best ones in my coupon wallet had expired. This means I have to sort all of them. I did. Then I fed the dogs. I went to the sink to fill the water dish, and decided to do a load of dishes. First I had to put the already clean ones away. Whoa. The pot from last night’s mac and cheese needs to soak. Time for another coffee.
I brown the roast for dinner and throw it in the crock pot. It only took 5 minutes. Jeez, all this bullshit and I’ve gotten nothing but dinner off my list!
The pharmacy calls to let me know my scripts are ready. Which ones did they fill? Hmm…let me look in the bedside drawer…So that’s where my lint brush was! And look! There’s a photo of me and Hubs at a friend’s wedding. Don’t I have an empty frame? Sure I do! I should frame this before I forget. Damn, this table is dusty, and since dusting is on my list…..
The washer is done, so I switch out the machines and decide to hop in the shower real quick before running the washer. I go upstairs and see that I left a mess next to the bed table. Gah! Lemme put this away. Empty chapstick? I should get rid of that. Maybe while I’m at it, I’ll lose the lipsticks and glosses I don’t use. Then I find a nail polish I’ve been looking for forever. I hope it hasn’t gotten thick. I put some on. It’s good! Let me put on a coat while I finish another cup of coffee. First let me turn the washer back on….
Now I have wet nails and can’t take a shower. I fiddle on Facebook, play some Words With Friends and….SHIT! Is that a truck in the driveway??
Yes, Hubs is home. Why so early? I look at the clock and I’m shocked to see that it is 4 already. I am still in my pajamas, my pits stink, and my hair is greasy. There is a cold cup of coffee beside me and there is still a pile of crap in front of the bed table which sits beside the unmade bed.
“Don’t even ask. You caught me doing nothing.”
He walked past the bedroom to his office, glancing in and shaking his head.
Why am I so exhausted? I finally throw everything back in the drawer, jump into the shower and finally wipe out the sink and the shower walls. I take the towels to the basement and switch out the machines again.
As I climb the basement stairs, I realize that I’ve finished everything on my list. It could have been done in two hours, three tops. And yet, it has taken me all day.
After a night of rigorous physical “activity” on Friday, I awoke on Saturday barely able to move. Oh my back hurt! I’ve gotten to the point in which I can tell if it is “over used” or simply “out of whack”. This was the latter, and I tried rolling my spine on the exercise ball as well as other things to help manipulate it back into place. Nothing worked. I sat all day Saturday, barely moving, watching tv from my recliner. And finally, around 5:00 , I gave in and took a vicodin-my last one. Going back to the recliner, I bent to comfort Mordecai (who is currently missing Holly). POP! All better. Just like that. You have no idea how frustrating it is not to know exactly how that happens!! But I had taken the vike for nothing. Boo.
Anyway, my phone rings and it’s my younger brother. This isn’t unusual. He uses us for business, sometimes a babysitter, or just to say hi. He asks how I am and what I’m doing. “Oh, I’m just sitting here playing a game and just chilling. My back hurt for most of the day.” Then he said some wonderful words….
“I called to see if you wanted to see Soundgarden with me tonight.”
“Hell yeah!” “Great, I’ll see you in about half an hour.”
I pulled myself together in record time and managed to annoy Hubs in the process. “You sat all day in pain and suddenly your brother calls and like magic, you can move!” It almost felt that way. I promised to be careful, not to dance too much, not to drink too much and come right home -just like I did with my dad years ago!
Dan was already fired up. He admitted that I was the third phone call but I didn’t give a shit. My son and I had both been disappointed when we learned the show had been sold out. Now I was going.
OMG! It was a fantastic show. Chris Cornell hit every high note without fail. He went onstage at 8:30 and never stopped for two solid hours. It was a great mix of the new singles with a generous portion of his older ones. We sang along, danced and had a helluva great time.
This particular brother and I are the eldest and youngest of my parents’ kids and we have never gone out to do something like this. The fact that we bonded over a concert was awesome. He didn’t know that I could be fun and I didn’t know he even heard half of the songs.
“Chris, I’m so glad you came out with me tonight. I had such a great time. The next time something like this goes on, I’m calling you first.”
Sounds good to me. We are already making plans for the next night out!!
Once upon a time, I wished that my family would eat healthier. Oh to go back to such a kinder, gentler world.
Holly has always loved fruits and veggies. Salads are her friend. A fruit of any sort was always something she chose over cake and candy. Rob….well, Rob has never been a fan. Even as an infant, he immediately gagged on all vegetables and this followed him into adulthood. Only recently has he come to eat an occasional salad, mashed potatoes, or corn. He will grab fruit when the mood strikes him. This was a change I was overjoyed to see.
Now Hubs? Green beans and corn. That’s it. Or at least it had been until his heart attack. Now he has no choice but to add these things to his diet. Now, there is fruit in the house. Oranges and apples abound. He will grab lettuce (notice, I didn’t call it a ‘salad’) It’s been hard to keep him away from ranch dressing, but we found one that is heart friendly. Now, if he wants red meat, we bribe him with V8 juice. He doesn’t like this, but if he wants a steak, he gets the extra veggies. Now, he is really thinking about whether or not that roast beef is worth it.
These days, we have turkey. A LOT of turkey. Hubs will not eat fish unless it is square and covered in breading. Chicken likewise should be breaded and preferably fried. This is not allowed and until I find a way to cook it in a way that he likes them, we will have turkey at all times in the house. We tried turkey meatballs. As they cooked, all I could think of was ‘wet dog’. Holly came out of her room and asked, “Who the hell is cooking dog meat??” Rob was too hungry to care and said he would give it a go if only to support Hubs’ efforts. The family voted unanimously to banish this creation from our home for eternity.
Tonight, while grocery shopping, Hubs picked up a package of Italian turkey sausage. I don’t have high hopes for this, but being such a good wife, I will cook this for him. We have bought oatmeal fruit bars. He is allowed 35 lightly salted peanuts. (This amount is just enough to satisfy his salty/crunchy craving) For me, 35 is a mouthful. For him, it is a luxury to be eaten one peanut at a time.
Gotta love my kids, though. They have been great sports about trying the change in foods. They wait until Hubs leaves the room before telling me whether they liked it or not. If they can’t stand the idea of eating with us, they manage to go out with friends or wait until we eat before looking for frozen pizza or chicken tenders.
Just before writing this, I had a toasted blueberry bagel with some cream cheese. Not actually good for me, but hey, it’s what I wanted. And there I was, a fifty year old grown-ass woman trying to keep the aroma from travelling down the hall to the bedroom where Hubs was watching tv. It brought back memories of trying to sneak a smoke in my bedroom as a teenager. I enjoyed every fucking bite, don’t get me wrong. I just felt like I was eating forbidden fruit. I’m not on a restricted diet, but just knowing that he is struggling so hard, makes it seem like cheating on him.
Well, I was the one who wanted to have more fruits and vegetables around. I was the one who wanted to try new ways of cooking for my family. I was the one who wanted things to be different.
Now my wish has been granted. Is it good or bad? My brain says “Yes! Of course it’s a good thing!”
Sunday, I gathered with cousins for an impromptu dinner at Marty’s house. My sister and I drove together following a route given by mapquest. All went exceedingly well for that ride, even though she wasn’t happy with the bridge or cattle chutes along the way.
We followed the directions with no problem and made it to a neighborhood that, well, would not have been out of place on any dramatic series involving a wealthy family. We were a bit nervous, not seeing cars in the driveway. Apparently we were the first to arrive and the family’s cars were in their garage. I offered to knock at the door to see if we had the right place, and was confronted with an intercom. Holy shit. This had to be wrong!
My cousin’s wife answered the door and I’m sure my mouth dropped open. This was a huge house with a grand piano in the music room which was across the hall from the formal dining room. The french doors opened into a large comfortable family room and a granite and steel kitchen area which was surrounded by stools for casual munching. Beside that was a breakfast area with floor to ceiling glass windows. Jesus! All I could think was that my house could fit into this area and it wasn’t even half of the house already!! From the windows I could see an upper deck where they could use their gas grill. The lower deck surrounded the pool area and beyond that was the batting cage. YES, a batting cage!
When my cousin entered the room, the comfort level returned…for a bit. He showed my sister and I around the rest of the house and we were stunned by what a party palace this was. The basement was the entire length of the house, carpeted wall-to-wall and complete with a pool table, foosball table, shuffleboard, darts and air hockey table all within viewing distance from the full bar. (It turns out lots of the furnishings and entertaining pieces were left by the previous owners who were divorcing and downsizing)
My cousin chatted with us, offering us drinks and it felt like we’d never been apart. He’s my age and we’d been fairly close as kids. My sister needed to use the powder room and I took the opportunity to ask him where the hell the money came from. Turns out, when his parents passed, he made good investments. His business is doing well, but still, he is in debt to his eyeballs. They don’t entertain. His daughter is away at college and his son will be there soon as well. Seven bedrooms and only him and his wife. It’s overkill. Such a waste of resources!
The rest of the family arrived and we enjoyed the visit. I was impressed that he has become quite the host. This was his party, not hers. He did the food, the drink, the planning. He did the cleaning up and serving. It was awesome. Until….my mom starting shooting me disapproving glances when I used the word “freakin’” in place of “fuckin’”. I was urged to use a glass in place of a can or bottle of beer. Another cousin scolded me for making a crude joke-not aimed at anyone, just overheard. Now I was uncomfortable. So was my sister. We have become the klassy kousins. The others are not wealthy, they just pretend they are. I remember when some of them ate dirt in the backyard! I remember when we shared hand-me-downs. I’ve seen them falling down, throwing up drunk. The people in front of me had a stick up their ass and looked around to see if their spouses were watching them.
Later, alone with Marty, I noticed a sadness in his eyes. I asked what was up and he told me. The debt is an issue between him and his wife. This house was her choice and he was pressured by his in-laws to make her happy. He worries all the time. Business is good but it stresses him. Surrounded by all the “opulence” he longs for hotdogs and mac and cheese, not organic foods with fancy names.
On the outside, it looks like he has it all.
I’ll keep drinking my beer in my skeeter filled backyard. I’ll cook in my 5′ x 10′ kitchen.
Wow. That’s a loaded phrase. Let’s try this: Previously on “Don’t Wanna Hear It”….
Since I was last here, Logan has had a birthday. He now runs all over the place like a little maniac. He is starting to talk and test his boundaries. He is still an angel for me, cuddling during the day to hear me read stories to him and to watch movies. We are both particularly fond of Kung Fu Panda 2 and he likes ‘air chopping’ and saying “eeee YAH!” We have made it through the holidays without him pulling down the tree, smashing my snow globes, or breaking any of my ornaments. (Now his parents’ house? Different story all together!)
As for my own kids? Babygirl is still in school and working her ass off. She is still with her hockey player boyfriend and is happy. Son2 is seeing his ex-girlfriend. When I asked if they were ‘back together’, I was told “We are two adults who are simply enjoying each other’s company.” I assume that means “Yes, but let’s not discuss it.” LOL
Hubs had a heart attack just before Thanksgiving. I can’t say that I was much surprised. He doesn’t eat healthy foods, he is a meat and potatoes guy. Very rarely are vegetables on his plate. He smokes alot. And running a business is stressful. This is something I have kind of been expecting, just not so soon. He had a stent installed and is responding exceedingly well to his meds. He started taking it easy, goes to rehab regularly, and cut back on the smoking. This whole diet thing will be what gives ME a heart attack. We enjoy going out to dinner for steaks or burgers. Not allowed very much any more. I used to use lots of frozen and prepared foods. These all contained lots of sodium, MSG, and the bad fats. Cooking has been a challenge to say the least. It has been a month and half and already he is tired of turkey. I must say, though, that he has been a champ. He has gone shopping and read every fucking label on every fucking food item we bought. Mayonnaise, salad dressings, condiments, and snacks have been replaced. Peanut butter is now ‘all natural’, jelly is now ‘preserves’ and breads are now ‘whole grain’. This isn’t a huge adjustment. But the vegetables are bought fresh and if I wait for him to be ‘in the mood’ to eat or try them, they spoil much faster. This will take a lot of patience…..
And lastly, me…
I got to see so many of my friends this year. I went to Kentucky to see many, many friends. It was like a family reunion. Bonds were forged, others strengthened. It was wonderful to have the support of these special people during the stressful time my hubs was in the hospital. I couldn’t have done it without them. I have lost weight and gained it back. I am looking forward to losing it again since our diet is changing.
New year, new us.
In addition to the new diet, we are trying to quit smoking….again. This time BOTH of us are trying! I can feel it in my bones, this time it’s going to work. It is so hard to do this alone and the fact that he is trying is monumental. I am less likely to cheat just knowing how hard this is for him and I don’t want to tempt him.
Some things changed and some things stayed the same. I am looking forward to the new year. I have my husband, my kids, my parents and overall good health. I also have you. My faithful friends and readers. I plan on spending more time here. Here’s hoping…..
I had a migraine last night. Rather than fight it, I took a tylenolPM, put on my jammies and crawled into bed at 8pm. Tuesday ended while I slept and I awoke to a beautiful Wednesday twelve hours later. Hot coffee and quiet time. Laundry running and Style network full of my guilty pleasures-How Do I Look?, Jerseylicious, and Supernanny. Just before I wanted to get in the shower, Babygirl wanted to go for a walk, so we leashed up the doggies and took a nice walk to Dunkin’ Donuts. I came home a bit sweaty and started dinner.
I had wanted to make beef stew in the crock pot, but since it was already afternoon, I figured I’d make it on the stovetop. I simply wanted to cook the carrots a little before adding everything else. And so, they merrily simmered….and simmered. Hubs came home early and we had a brief conversation. Babygirl was leaving for a baseball game and work and I said goodbye. I prepared to get into the shower…..again. Then I remembered the carrots.
The water had boiled away and the carrots were now fried. Hubs was still in the office and didn’t notice. I got rid of the burnt ones and cut up new ones. It was no big deal. I stalled until they boiled and then shut them off. Now I had nothing to worry about.
I got into the shower and just enjoyed it. I stayed under the spray longer than usual, shaving my legs and feeling the heat on my back. It was glorious!
Cleaned and refreshed, I went into the kitchen to finally finish the stew. Onions, beef, potatoes all went into the pot. It smelled great already. Hubs and I sat in the living room to relax for a bit.
Before I knew it, my boys came in the door. Son2 was running right out to the MLS All-Star Game. But Son1 was here too. Apparently he was looking for jumper cables because the work truck seemed to be slowing down. Hubs went looking down the basement for the cables only to find…..
The basement had flooded.
Due to the roots in the line from trees and bushes, we have the plumber come out every now and then to clear the line. It’s that time again. Any laundry that had been sorted and waiting washing, was now soaking in two inches of water. The laundry I ran this morning? Yeah, that water. The long shower I took? That water too. The shower that Son1 was currently taking? Yup, that water too. Oh yeah, I think one or two of us may have used the toilet today too.
Hubs plunged out the line as best he could. It began draining again. The sump pump kicked on and sucked the water down. The dehumidifier came on to do its job. All I had to do was sweep some of the water toward the floor drain. I rolled up my pants and began.
Slowly, but surely, the water went away. I stepped backwards to push a pile of whites away from the flow of water and my foot began to slide….
I tried to brace myself with the broom…and continued to slide…
OMG! I’m falling into a split!!!!!
I started to laugh at the absurdity. I couldn’t stop. Instead of taking the hurt, I fell backward on my ass and kept right on laughing.
Now, with my ass soaked to the skin, I got up, went upstairs and changed. Before heading back to the basement, I noticed how yummy it smelled. My stomach growled and I realized that I hadn’t eaten today. Mmm….stew….
The basement finally clean, clothes running once more in the washer, Son2 gone to the game and Son1 on his way home, I went to check my stew.
I had been distracted for too long. The stew had dried and begun to burn.
The wonderful smell of stew lingered tantalizingly. The potatoes? Overboiled and mushy. The beef? Somewhat seared. Carrots? Brown.
I sighed deeply. Hubs scooped some stew up and began to eat it. “If I don’t like it, I’ll just throw it out.” he said. Just like that. And eat it, he did. Was he simply too tired and hungry to care? I think so.
I reached into the cabinet for my own dish, and noticed a pain. I turned and almost stepped on my dog. I noticed another pain. After a once over of all my body parts, I discovered a swollen and jammed thumb, slightly tweaked back, shoulder pain and a possibly bruised butt.
I still need to go food shopping tonight. I hope I manage to get it done before the worst of the aches start! In spite of it all, without sarcasm, I can still say,
After two long weeks, the doctor’s office finally called about the CAT scan results. The verdict is…..ALL CLEAR. This is awesome, of course, but it still doesn’t answer the question of why my memory is like shit. A friend suggested an EEG…(is that the one that measures brain waves? Well the brain wave thingy is the one that was mentioned.) I guess we play hurry up and wait some more. In the meantime, there is this:
Logan was just Christened this past weekend. I found myself staring at my kids. One is now the father of this wonderful child. The other two are the Godparents. When did they all grow up into such handsome men and beautiful young woman? They clean up nicely, I must say! Logan arrived at the Church with a basketball jersey and shorts on. His parents and I went into the ‘baby room’ to dress him. I got him into the shirt/vest/ tie combo and when I turned him around to face me, I got teary eyed. (Shut up. Yes I did!) He no longer looked like an eight month old. He looked like a little man. I looked at my son, who was watching us and as his eyes filled, he warned me “If YOU cry, I will too, so stop!!”)
The ceremony was kind of different from the other Christenings I have been to. There was no mass involved, for one thing. The other was that this particular priest was “paparazzi-friendly”. At important parts of the ceremony, he would say, “If anyone would like pictures or to see better, come on up!” You bet your bippy I wanted to! I can’t go anywhere without my camera!
During the sermon on the meaning of Baptism, Logan got tired. He hadn’t napped and had already been passed around more than a cold. He got grumpy and fidgety and his two upper teeth were trying very hard to cut through his gums. He managed to hang with us until his favorite part….water on his head! He loves the water and was excited once the water hit his head. Then he wondered why it stopped. He began to sing and dance a little with his cousin JoJo who was standing near him.
After singing for about ten minutes, he fell asleep…sound asleep. He never even woke up when he was laid upon the altar at the end of the ceremony! I managed to get one of the best photos of my life:
After his much needed nap, he was ready to party, and that is exactly what he did. He greeted all of his guests with a huge smile, he laughed and danced and played. And so did I.
No, not Logan’s fault. It’s all mine. Just as everything else around this house is my fault, this is too. Now I will attempt a partial explanation.
Many times on this blog, I have complained about my memory lapses, and my migraines. Many times I have found myself comforted by the comments that assured me that I was not the only one. Many times, I have been ‘talked off the edge’ by just being able to vent about my frustrations at being blamed for bills being unpaid, paperwork undone, and little tiny ‘favors’ being cast by the wayside.
Years ago, I mentioned these lapses to my doctor. He kinda laughed and said it was normal, that I was going through menopause and hormones may be the cause of the migraines and being 50 was the cause of losing my mind.
My new doctor has given me meds to handle the migraines. I love it. I can head off a migraine before I find myself crippled by the pain. The problem is that the migraines have gone from one or two managable headaches to three or four managed migraines with one big motherfucker that kills me. This doctor isn’t laughing it off. The frequency of the headaches coupled with the memory lapses has given him cause for concern.
This evening I will have my brain scanned.
He didn’t sound panicked. He just wants to rule out anything bad and see if there has possibly been an undetected mini-stroke. Okay, I was cool with that and just planned for my test.
Last Thursday, while talking to mom, she asked what was going on. She heard through the grapevine that I was having this done. So I told her and tried to downplay it so she wouldn’t freak out about it. But mom said, “Oh it’s a good thing you’re getting checked out. Stroke runs strongly in our family.”
“Oh sure. Three of my sisters had strokes and your uncle had a stroke on the operating table while having a brain tumor removed.”
She never mentioned that or I would have called the doctor immediately to add that to my file. (I tend to do that instead of waiting until I go into the office for routine check-ups) “But mom! You said that the aunts had heart attacks!”
“Heart attacks/ strokes, same thing.”
So now I sit here waiting for appointment time and quietly freak out.
Ummm…..oh right, the blog….
I have ideas and I do write them down. I have been annoyed at people, politics, celebrities, and news. It’s just that when it comes time to write a post, I can’t remember where I wanted to go with it. By the time I do remember, it is a non-issue again.
And….I just did it again. Rather than delete that, I have left it there to show you what I can’t seem to explain.
This coming Sunday, Logan will be Christened. The entire family is excited to gather for a happy reason. All of the family is bringing something. Hubs is paying for a hall and I managed the guest/food list. (I have lists fucking EVERYWHERE!!!) I was so scared that I was forgetting something but Shenanigans and I went through the list and I did quite well! Even Holly helped with the list and not much is left to do. I have finally relaxed knowing that I haven’t fucked things up by forgetting to invite someone, or not having enough food. *sigh of relief*
So there you have an update on my life. This is the part where you sit back and say, “Wait….What did she just say?” Then go back and read it again and tell me if it made sense. I’ll try to let you know what happens.
Again I have lapsed, my friends. My life is very busy. I have lots to do and have rediscovered the joy of reading in a quiet house. I haven’t actually watched a movie in quite some time and even most of my nighttime shows are caught in a random hour here and there.
My days are spent with Logan, mostly at his house. This isn’t an excuse. Why? Because I am offering no excuses. This is more of an explanation of my happiness. The child truly is sunshine. He rarely cries-even while teething! So far, we have two bottom teeth, accompanied by lots of chewing and drool. He has now started baby food and so far, it seems that squash is a favorite.
Carrots are definitely not a favorite.
We play, we laugh, and oh, my do I smile! I recently realized just how much I smile when I was getting ready to go out. I was putting on eyeliner and as I looked into the soul-sucking magnifying mirror, I noticed fine lines at crease of my eyes. I always had a few, but these are deeper. Know what? I am not freaked out by them. On the contrary, I am embracing them. They are my badge of grandmotherhood.
Logan has also learned to crawl. This happened two weeks ago. This week, he is pulling himself up….on the steps, on the coffee table, the couch, the dogs…you name it, he is the Edmund Hillary of the house.
And as long as I am telling you all of this, I may as well jump in and tell you what happened today.
Babygirl is home for the summer and her new roommate drove an hour today to hang out and have dinner with her. Just in case they were eating here, I made meatballs and sausage for sandwiches. Logan settled in for his nap and Babygirl went upstairs to get her shower. I sat right beside Logan on the couch. Normally we snuggle up together on the couch or on the floor. Sometimes I can get him to sleep in his car seat. Today, though, I was sitting beside him. He slept for an hour before I remembered that the meatballs were still in the oven. I could smell that they were done or needed to be turned. Either way, they needed attention. Since Logan still had about half an hour in his usual nap time, I jumped from the couch and ran to the kitchen. I opened the oven, stirred the meat around and was ready to close it up and return when I heard the thud.
He rolled off the couch.
I never leave that child alone! I toss him into the pack-n-play, the car seat, the floor….but never on the couch. The one time I did….for only 30 seconds….
He cried then. Oh, yes, he did. He looked at me bewildered by this new sensation of pain. I cradled him in my arms and kissed him, tasting his tears on my lips. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t take it away for him. I cried as he cried. And after all the boogers were wiped from his nose, he smiled. He hugged me and snuggled up. We looked out the front door at the cars passing by. When there was lull in the cars he looked at me and I saw it….
…..an egg on his forehead.
I cried a little more as I tried to hold an ice pack to his head. He cried a little more as he tried to avoid it.
Then his dad came home early. (Of course!) I could tell he wanted to yell at me. He knew it was an accident. But he also knew that he was the one who would have to tell Shenanigans. I felt even worse, knowing that she would freak out about it. He packed up Logan’s stuff and ran out to pick up Shenanigans at work. I cried a little more in the bathroom, rinsed off my face and finished dinner. I found it very hard to feed myself.
I talked to Son1 tonight. Shenanigans was a little upset, but as he said, she will get over it. Logan comes back tomorrow, and I will admit that I feel a little nervous. After all these years of caring for kids, Logan isn’t the first one to roll off the couch. He isn’t the first to get a goose egg. I’m sure he won’t be the last. But the fact that this is his first lump, his first real bruise…..and it happened at my house…it rattled me.
Tomorrow I’ll get back on that horse again, and laugh and sing and play……