.... Self pity is boooring, and I have been boring the socks off of m'self lately. Pain kinda does that to me.
It doesn't help that I spend all day every day with three small beings who not only don't understand why mama is being such a loser who won't do jack for them anymore (i.e. hop up and grab them a drink of milk whenever they want one, the second they want one) but she squawks and bawls every time they use her conveniently propped up leg to do chin-ups and cherry drops off of.
It's really tough to remember what the heck that big, funny contraption on her leg was for in the first place apparently. Was it a target? Climbing straps? Fashion? Heck if I can recall, where's my lunch, woman?
Seriously... I am not used to having to take care of myself at the same time as everyone else. All of my needs are either things that I have figured out how to fit in, or just defer. But the whole Rest-Ice-Compression-Elevation shtick that goes with a soft tissue knee injury don't fit or defer worth a shmelman. And there was another frakking-crap-melvin emergency at Dadguy's work yet again this weekend; he was stuck at work until after midnight on Friday, and yet again my Saturday disappeared into the dust. We don't really get a Sunday, so this next week blends into last week in an ugly sort of way. A depressing sort of a way, since in addition to it all I apparently get to be the freaky wife who is all "WHAT!? What do you MEAN you have to work for your freaking PAYCHECK while I need you AT HOME!?? Taking care of ME!!??"
Sigh... I know that cannot be fun, and yet there I was Saturday night when Dadguy finally rolled in around 9 pm to witness the "Oh my hell you're finally HOME!" weepy break down of the mama. The breakdown that I don't even know is coming until about a half hour before it starts. The half hour it takes for him to drive home after calling me to tell me he's on his way. The breakdown I usually reserve for when he returns from out of town trips.
None of this was helped by what happened Friday night after I had called Dadguy around 11:00 to tell him that I was calling it quits, and I would be passed out when he got home. He informed me that he would be at least another hour or so, and I started my bedtime routine of double checking all locks, drink of water, prenatal vitamin ad infinitum. It takes me at least a half hour to actually be in bed with the lights out from the time that I announce my intentions get there. So when I was sitting in bed putting my brace back on over my pj's and heard the door knob rattle I was pleasantly surprised that Dadguy had apparently decided to pack it in and come straight home after all, and kept half an ear out for the sound of the key in the lock as I finished with all of the straps and velcro. A sound that never came. So I headed for the front door to see what was keeping him. Did he drop his keys in the dark? Is he out having a midnight chat with our next door neighbors?
But there was no one on the front porch and no car in the drive. Huh. "That must not have been what I heard" I tell myself as I make another round of the entire house double checking all the window locks both upstairs and down. "Naw" I tell myself, "I heard something other than the doorknob." But I wasn't able to go to sleep after all, so I had the dubious pleasure of hearing, an hour and a half later, the sound of the doorknob being tested again, and it was the exact same sound I had heard earlier, only this time it was followed by the sound of a key in the lock and a Dadguy through the door. Creeped out? I know I am.
Hey, have I been promising y'all a belly pic? Check this out... I saw it and laughed my head off at it, no wonder I am already getting double takes and winces. No wonder I barely fit.... anywhere!