Sunday, November 22, 2009

Made of Spare Parts

I've been feeling a lot older than my 42 years for the past couple of weeks. You see, I have this horrible pain in my right butt cheek that will not go away no matter how many stretches or ibuprofen I take. It has bothered me before in getting ready for some of the half marathons I've done, but it has never lingered this long before. It's sidelining my running and it's making me a HUGE crab. I don't like feeling like a 72 year old. It sucks.

To make matters worse, I did something last night in my sleep that totally made me wake up in tears and agony.

***Sidenote: It all began about 3 years ago when Bill and I went skiing for the first time in 15 years. I got a little cocky toward the end of the day and felt like I was 20 years old again and limber as a gymnast... Nope. Not happening. I got taken down by some dead bushes and ski equipment went flying. So did my left arm. It flew right behind my head and when I got the snow out of my face, I wondered whose arm I was laying on. I did make it down the mountain, but I needed Bill to help me get my coat, skis, and paraphernalia off so we could get in the car and make our way home. It took a couple of months to feel better, and it still continued to make me wince every now and then. This summer I had a date with the sidewalk - a face plant date. Yep, I injured the same shoulder again, plus a hip as well! Yay me! Again, it took awhile to feel like I was post injury self. It slipped every once in awhile and jumping jacks were definitely not my friend.

OK, back to last night. I woke up on my stomach with incredible pains shooting through my shoulder which felt like a stretched out rubber band. I had either separated or dislocated something in my battered little shoulder. I quickly moved to try to right the wrongly stretched ligaments, tendons, and bursa inside - all while crying out for Bill, trying not to throw up, and breaking out into a cold sweat. It was not a pleasant feeling. It hurt like the dickens, to put it bluntly.

And now I feel old- AGAIN.

And now I need to see a physical therapist for my butt and my shoulder.

I'm convinced I am truly made of spare parts. It sucks to get old.

(I put this picture here to show that at least my hair looks youngish...)

Friday, November 6, 2009

Halloween Headaches

For Halloween this year, I just wanted to go back in time and have my children dress up as their younger selves. I wanted a sweet little cowboy, a darling little cowgirl, and a good green faced witch.

Awww, the good old days when I had time to be domesticated and actually put time, energy, and thought into costumes for my kids. (And when they were so young that they agreed to be anything I could make - just give me some felt, iron on adhesive, and face make-up!)

This year, I was not domestic. In fact, we spent 2 Saturdays searching the thrift stores to see if I could find someone else's past domestication. I was tired after driving to 4 different smelly stores that were filled with loads of other people searching for the same things.

Success was had with Payton's costume (just don't tell anyone his shirt was found in the girls' section). Score at store number 2. Not so for Kourtni and Lindsay. After several more attempts at second hand shops, I called it a day and offered many suggestions: a pirate, a gypsy, a scarecrow, a white trash gal, a hippy, a nerd, a UPS girl, a dead football player, and the list went on. We had the parts for those outfits at our house, for Pete's sake. Lindsay relented and a dead football player it was. Yippee!

Not so easy for Kourtni. We drove around and around on Saturday the 31st to see if there were anymore ideas out there. NOPE! After several "I told you so's" and "why don't you just take my suggestions", we headed home with no ideas.

After going through my closet, trying on different shades of acid washed jeans, and going through my drawers of old "Stuff", Kourtni decided that she would take after her father and deliver the goods for Halloween by posing as a gangsta UPS gal. Thank goodness for "snap decisions"...

Thank goodness that there will be no more trick or treating for the girls next year.
Thank goodness for UPS clothes.
Thank goodness for patient friends.
Thank goodness Bill and I had an extra 40 bucks to pay our kids to get rid of their 10 pounds of candy.
Thank goodness I can take all that sugar to school and give it out to deserving 1st graders for the rest of the school year! (Yes, there is that much.)
Thank goodness Halloween comes only once a year.
Thank goodness for soft bristled toothbrushes, Crest toothpaste, and Glide floss.
Thank goodness for Dr. Wagner when the toothbrushes, toothpaste, and floss don't do the trick.

Thank goodness I'm done.

Tin Grins are In!

Yes, it's true. We have another brace face in the Ball household. Little Miss Lindsay Lou donned her tin grin this past week and now joins Kourtni as a patient of Dr. Jarvis. (We just hope Lindsay doesn't get the violent feelings toward the doctor like Kourtni does... After each appointment Kourtni wants to "punch him in the face"... Yeah. Having those things on your teeth for 18 months gets old.)

She was a real trooper and I got the mother of the year award for making her walk to the orthodontic office during the school day, sit in the chair for 2 hours with no motherly love sitting nearby, and walk back to school for the rest of the day. Lindsay is awesome and she didn't even utter one word of complaint at having to deal with a delinquent mother who was busy teaching her 24 "other children".

Come back in about 18 months to see the big after reveal! 'Til then, no pop, no carmelly candy, no jerky (poor carnivore!), no Skittles, no sugary gum, no hard shell tacos or Doritoes, etc. etc.

You can do it, Lindser!