Madi: I cut gooder.
Me: Oh? You got better at cutting?
Madi: Yes, I got better at cutting gooder.
Weekends are supposed to be about resting, relaxing, rejuevenation (I'm sure there are more R words, but they're not coming to me). Not this weekend. The first post-soccer weekend was filled with two birthday parties (one that Max was invited to at 8:45 a.m. on Saturday, the other Madison at 5 p.m. on Saturday).
At the first party I climbed the inflatable slide and zoomed down. In the process giving myself the inflatable, rubber version of a rug burn on my elbow.
At the second party, Madison didn't want to jump into the giant pit of foam cubes, so I played Mommy to the rescue and jumped in to prove it was safe. Sure, it's safe if you're five. If you're 35 and large, it's a pain. I laid there for one or two minutes (an eternity in my mind as other moms stood on watching), wondering how in the world I was going to get myself out of this giant pit. It took some time and more physical exertion than you would believe, but I got out. Apparently jumping into a pit of foam cubes earns you a lot of street cred with the five-year-old crowd because a classmate wanted me to play ball with him on the trampolines. I bounced and passed until I decided perhaps I should have donned some Depends before I got in there because all that bouncing was creating an undeniable urge to pee. (No apparent damage was done to my body, and I did feel pretty awesome to be the only mommy to get into the trampoline and foam with the kids.)
Apparent injury number two came tonight as I pulled a frozen pizza from the oven. Yup, my hand hit the door long enough to sizzle and leave a blister. So my second "burn" in as many days. And the thing about burns is that they, well, burn. For a really long time. And I can't remember what conventional wisdom is about blisters: to pop or not?
And here's potential for more unseen injuries: We joined a gym last week. Got a great annual deal, so we couldn't pass it up. Brent and I went today so he could show me the ropes. I didn't overdo it, but when you haven't touched weights (other than 50 pounds of child times two) there's no such thing as NOT overdoing it. I lifted and pushed and showed off a little to Brent. This is one of those serious gyms with serious equipment and serious people there. I was intimidated by all of it. But the money's been paid for the next year, so we'll see how it goes.
I'm afraid to go to sleep tonight because I don't think it's going to feel very good to be me when I wake up tomorrow.
Lean in for a sec. Look really, really close? Notice something (other than my third post in a single day)? Yes, it must be the word "IDIOT" or perhaps "GULLIBLE" printed across my forehead. I've had a couple weeks where I think my easy-going attitude with my students has lead to some taking complete advantage of me.
So, meet the new me:
Your ________ (fill in the blank) died? Bring me the death certificate.
Got in a car wreck? Where's the police report? Sick?
Better be able to afford to see a doctor, cause I need a doctor's note.
It's really too bad that a few can make me doubt the rest. And I'm so pissed right now I think I could SCREAM!
(Gosh, I almost feel better now.)
We got to school this morning after passing trees snapped in half and many fences blown down by these winds (according to my Weatherbug we've had gusts up to 61 mph). I opened the car door and Madi nearly panicked. She covered her ears and with that I lost my ability to rationalize with her. She just cried, "I don't want to go to school today." She's making great strides though, because once I got her seatbelt undone she got out and marched up to the school. She felt better when I told her we would go directly in rather than wait outside the classroom.
I'm heading out now to an appointment, but I'm taking my camera to see if I can document any of the wind's destruction!
Why is it the only weather forecast the local meteorologists can get right are the windy days? The wind is blowing so hard outside that the floor is shaking beneath my seat on the second floor of the house.
Wind is my least favorite weather.