Today has been a bad day.
M has had to work late every night for the last week. As in, coming home barely before midnight. And I? I stay up and wait, because it makes me nervous to have him walking around our neighborhood that late at night. (I know, he's a six and a half foot high, nearly 300lb behemoth of a man, and NOBODY is going to mess with him. Probably. But I'm pregnant, and I freak out easily in this condition.) Thanks to the sun coming up earlier, my children wake up earlier.
And to top it all off, I seem to be having anemia problems. So I am effing exhausted.
Which brings me to today. Saturday. Today, M had to go in to work, just like every day this week. And again, I probably won't see him until midnight.
...which meant missing my friend's bridal shower. Which is a bummer.
But believe it or not, that wasn't the worst part of the day.
I was ushering the girls from the potty to their nap, and I realized there were little bloody footprints all over the bathroom floor.
I ascertained pretty quickly that it was DD who was bleeding, and I attempted to clean her up and clean up the cut, and figure out how in the world she managed to get so bloody while just sitting on the potty, but she would have none of it.
And as I held her on my lap and tried and tried to explain that I needed to see it and clean it so I could make it better, I began bargaining. Would it be okay if you lay on Mommy and Daddy's bed for me to inspect your foot? It would? Perfect.
So, clutching my freaked out toddler in my arms, I attempted to rise from the stool on which I had been sitting, and waddle across the six feet to my bed.
And that was when I started to fall.
Now, I generally have a very good sense of spacial reasoning. I could tell that, based on how I was holding DD, I was poised to smash her into the wall. I had to make a choice- drop the kid on the tile floor, or fall to the left and avoid the wall.
I fell to the right to avoid the wall. Only now, the door was in my way. I was going to smash her head between myself and the door. New choice- drop the kid, or fall farther to the left and do it faster and harder.
I would also have to twist my torso bizarrely in order not to land on my stomach. After all, I didn't want to hurt Baby X.
Poor DD, she still got a knock on the noggin,
And poor Baby X, she certainly went for a wild ride.
I twisted my ankle. I landed hard- really really really hard- on my knee. And then my hip. And then my elbow.
I am jacked up. Ankle, knee, hip, back, elbow, shoulders, and neck... they're all killing me.
DD's foot? Totally fine. She picked a scab. No idea why it bled so much.
I was literally stuck on the floor for about five minutes while DD wailed.
The moral of the story?
When people tell big ol' pregnant ladies not to lift anything heavy...
They mean it.
Lesson learned, gravity. Lesson learned.
On a totally unrelated note, my mom is helping her parents clean out their house. They're in the process of moving after about thirty five years, which is a long time to pack every single corner of a large house with stuff. And today, my mom hit the jackpot when it comes to finding really cool stuff that you had no idea was there.
My mom found an old check that my Granddaddy had written to Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in 1963. And Dr. King endorsed it! How cool is that?
So, that's the cool silver lining of my day. I might be a bit banged up, but I am super proud of my family of progressives and activists.
Hopefully I haven't banged those qualities out my children by the time they're ready to take up the family cause. :)