Remember how I was lamenting about how challenging Little Man was in a house that wasn’t very child-proofed? Ha! I didn’t know how things could get even MORE FUN when you add one gimpy Mamma to the equation. The past few days, I’ve had to resort to verbal reprimands with Little Man, as I’m no longer physically capable of picking him up and removing him from a situation. Let me just tell you how this goes…
Mamma: “No! Put that back!”
Little Man looks at me and smiles, then starts running.
I then try to corral him by hopping after him with my crutches, and try to guide him with the crutch.
It’s highly inefficient.
Oh, boy, this is going to be fun.
I think I brought this knee injury on myself. Just last week, I told JB that I’d like to “switch roles” with him, saying that perhaps he’d have more respect for all I do in regards to the kids and around the house if he just had to do it for a week. Wow, did I get that wish. And JB sure isn’t happy about all of this.
Went to the doctor yesterday, who said from a physical exam, he can tell that I probably tore my MCL tendon, and the ACL isn’t looking “right” either. The fun part of that diagnosis is that they’d treat it as two separate injuries. We’d immobilize for the MCL to heal and then do physical therapy for that, which will take 5-8 weeks. Then, if I need ACL surgery, we’d do that, and then I’d have to do physical therapy specific to that recovery.
So in essence, this whole fiasco could last 4-5 months. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I could go back in time and just tell myself to let Little Miss ski on her own — she’d be fine. Instead, I now can’t really take the kids to do any kind of activity, such as bike rides, the park, swimming, etc. I’ve always loved our outings on the weekend, and now I fear I’m just going to be homebound and unable to keep tabs on them when they go upstairs.
Last night, JB went on a walk, and I was home alone with the sleeping kids for about 45 minutes. Of course, Little Man started crying. After about 30 minutes of his crying, I couldn’t take it anymore, and managed to scoot my way up the stairs on my rear, dragging my crutches along. It probably took me 10 minutes to get to the top of the stairs, and then find a chair to get myself to a standing position, and wouldn’t you know it — by the time I made it to Little Man’s room, he was fast asleep?! Gah!!!!
While I’m throwing my own little Pity Party, I’m also so bummed that I’m about to get REALLY out of shape. I just recently got to where I was within 2 pounds of my pre-pregnancy weight, and I felt like I was in really good shape. I felt like I had completely recovered from the second pregnancy and C-section, about 18 months later. And now, I’m looking at months of inactivity. I’m just cringing at what that is going to do to my body, and have already started to try to monitor my food intake, considering I now get the same activity of a 80 year old in a retirement home.
The fun continues. If you live in Reno, please come have a playdate with me. I’m going to need friends to help me with Little Man while JB goes out to ski, as we all know he will.