Steve always gives me a hard time about how often I injure myself in the kitchen. It seems like I'm always burning myself or cutting myself in some minor way. Well, last night I managed to outdo even my best injuries and I wasn't even cooking. I was washing our big, heavy knife and it slipped and fell right on the knuckle of the index finger of my right hand. I thought it just sort of "bounced" off my finger, but when I looked, there was blood. And when I was trying to bandage it I could see in my finger. Oh man.
note the attractive slippers
Now it's immobilized and my long suffering husband dealt with my dramatic antics while he cleaned it and bandaged it. I'm not sure what I'm going to do for the next week (?) or so while it's healing. Even with the splint I can't move it the wrong way without pain, and people, I have diapers to change and jars to open. And if you look to the picture below you can see how much trouble this guy can get into on a regular basis. Not to mention, typing this post with nine fingers was less than ideal.
organizing the cupboards
Maybe I will just relegate myself to safety scissors from now on.
We have had a pretty good, solid 365 days of health up until this month, which I have now dubbed Fever February. We haven't been to church as a family in three weeks, which is really unusual, and Ethan had to miss days of school. We either caught two waves of bugs, or we got a covert bug that masked itself as a cold and recovering cold, and then burst forth a few days later as the fever of all fevers. It's a really good strategy for a germ because just when I thought it was safe to take the baby out and have people over my kids got sicker and probably spread everything all around.
Silas got it so bad last weekend I took him to the ER when his fever spiked and he started acting funny. I tried to cool him down by wiping him with a baby wipe and that only made the wipe hot. I've never felt a little body so hot before and seeing the look in his eyes when it happened made it even scarier. Of course by the time we got the the hospital he was a balmy 102.8 and decreasing.
Silas climbing up to see if he could make sick big bro feel better
All I know is I'm ready for Spring and fresh air and less mucous all around.
If you had told me 6 months ago that I would be able to run 3.2 miles without stopping and without dying when I was done, and that I would pay to run in one of those silly 5k races that are always happening around town, I probably would have laughed at you. To be honest I'm not sure what happened, but on Saturday, I did exactly that.
There wasn't one single thing that made me start running for exercise, but just a weird combination of events that put me out on the road, in the cold, sometimes in the dark, jogging and/or speed walking three times a week.
#1) I felt bad. Not really unhealthy, but not healthy either. I don't know how to describe it, but I suspect a lot of moms with young kids feel it. Stiff, saggy, tired, etc. I wanted to feel better.
#2) I kept hearing or reading of people in my circles doing the Couch-to-5k program and it didn't seem horrible. Which was weird, because since my Air Force days I had actually grown to hate running for PT.
#3) It was the new year, and that's always a good time to start something.
#4) I had a good friend willing to run with me, and I had the support of my family, who came out at 8:30 on a Saturday morning to cheer me on at the finish line. I think in the end that made all the difference. Well, that, and committing to going out for brunch after we were done.
At any rate, I recommend it. I don't know if I will ever be a "runner", but I hope to keep up what I've worked for and it was actually pretty fun!