My life lately has felt a bit like a practical joke being played on me by someone upstairs if you know what I mean.
For example, last night after dinner, JB suggests “let’s all go for a family walk!”
Momentarily underestimating the extent of my gimpiness, I enthusiastically agreed, excited for the kids to bike (Little Man on his brand new push tryke).
Of course the weather here is screwed up, feeling much like the dead of winter if you don’t take into account that it stays light later and the plants are getting green. So, we all bundled up in our jackets, got the kiddos on their bikes, I got our geriatric lab, Shadow on the leash and we were ready.
We hadn’t gone 200 yards when it became apparant that this gimpy Momma was going to seriously impede the progress of this outing.
“How far can you go?” JB asked. I had no idea. I had thoughts of maybe today is the day I finally walk around the block again! He picked a street to go up with a large hill.
I didn’t think Little Miss was capable of biking up that hill, but she was doing great. Until the asthma kicked in, that is. I ended up pushing her while she hacked up a lung, and limping way far behind JB and Little Man. At the top of the hill, we decided to take a shortcut home, which on a bum leg, even a shortcut feels like a long haul.
Little Miss coasted downhill on her bike while I discovered that walking downhill on my bad knee is much harder than walking uphill. I limped along slowly. Little Miss waited for me, and her hands were freezing. Because I just didn’t think to put gloves on her in MAY.
Minutes later, it started to pour rain. Oh, lovely. I felt like looking for hidden cameras. There I was, limping along, with a girl who is asthmatic and coughing in the cold, and as much as I wanted to rush home, there is no rushing when you’re gimpy.
This morning, the comedy of errors continued, when we were gathering her dance shoes and tights for her VERY FIRST DANCE RECITAL EVER tonight. She got ballet shoes for her birthday in February, and I’ve been tripping over these things, and constantly picking them up as she left them strewn all over the house for the past three months. Now, this morning, when I’m running late for work, the darn shoes were NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
I finally dug them out, and in between giving her all of her different nebulizers, antibiotics, allergy medicine, breakfast, etc., I was super late to work… But I couldn’t leave until I did her hair in a “high, tight bun”.
Oh, Lordy. It is a chaotic life I lead. I wouldn’t trade those kids for anything in the world… But some days I sure wish I didn’t have to contribute to bringing home the bacon.