Friday, September 7, 2012

Hints from the Universe

You know what you shouldn't do when you are 8.5 months pregnant?  Decide that you are the best person to edge the ceiling of your bedroom.  Now, in our family, Jon is the roller and I am the edger.  We were really lucky and his mom and sister offer to roll the bedroom.  Now being the over zealous person that I am, I said I would still edge.

Because I am a control freak.

Well friends, I was spited.  About 3/4 of the way done with the edging, I had my bigger than normal butt up on the ladder, and the tray part, where the semi full can of paint was sitting, gave out.  It was in freaking slow motion.  I tried to grab for the paint can, but I didn't want to fall off the ladder. (I would really love all the flack I would get at work if I had to come in to be monitored because my stupid self fell off a ladder).  So instead I watched the paint can fall painstakingly to the beautiful wood floor.  The only thing we have invested in since buying the house are our floors.  The house was covered with carpet which we ripped out the night we purchased the home to have the floors underneath refinished.  I love my wood floors.

Topple, topple, turn, splat.  On one of our only worldly prized possessions.

Normally being a hormonal pregnant person, I would sob my face off.  Instead I said a few words I am not super proud of and trashed some our towels for the sake of our floor.

For the most part I got all the paint up, and luckily it happened in the only spot where the bed can go, so even if I didn't, it would never be seen.

So, I get it, I admit defeat.  I will back down and chill out, kinda.  I will at least do my best.

We are still in a holding pattern with my mom.  My shower is tomorrow and I will do my best to keep it together in front of the masses, but I am so sad she won't be there.  I am waiting to hear from the social worker today, but as far as I know, her tentative discharge date is still next Friday.  One week.  Hallelujah.

When she comes home we will need help with 24 hour care, so I will post more info and a schedule and we would completely appreciate any and all help.  It will be a learning experience for all involved to figure out what she has learned to do in rehab and how to translate that into being home.  She had her follow up apt with the surgeon that amputated her foot, and that all looks good.  So we will see him again in a month.  Hopefully I will have more information about what home looks like by the end of the day.  In the mean time, I am going to go refinish a bedroom set Jon and I were gifted with.  I won't climb on a ladder to do it.  Promise.

1 comment:

  1. Sounds like an afternoon I had recently, where I had convinced myself that I was the only person on this planet who could move a bunch of heavy boxes up into the attic. And as I was bobbling a particularly hefty load, the fold up ladder started to fold up underneath me (did I mention I was doing this while my husband was away at work?), I just imagined the crazy treatment I'd get from the coworkers for needing to come in and be monitored because I fell off a ladder.

    And then I pulled a muscle in my side and spent the next 48 hours hobbling around and favoring my injury. So much for sparing myself some coworker lectures!