It's like this...

It's been 8 entire days since I've blogged. Boo! Hiss! Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like you even checked to see if there was a new blog post. Don't give me that face--I know you didn't. But it's ok. I have some exciting news to make my two readers jump for joy--or at least whisper a slight Hurrah . Actually I have two pieces of good news. 1. Today was the very first day since December 8th when the world gave way beneath me, that I didn't use some sort of instrument to aid me while walking. That's right---- NO MORE CANE!!! . I'll give you a moment I know, right? 2. I have started back at the gym. Friday night we descended on the gym en masse. And when I say en masse, I mean Lance, Stephanie, Allison, Ashley and I. Chris was working, so he couldn't join in the sweaty fun. Today I went to the pool and when I was done I threw my bathing suit in the garbage there. Trust me, it should have been tossed long ago. Now I just need to find a new one. I f

If you know my husband, you can't help but know how wonderful he is. He's sweet and he's kind and he's helpful to the point where I have to remind him to stop helping and please sit down and let someone else do some of the heavy lifting in life. He's just that way. If I had a dime for every time someone asked me if he had a brother just like him, I'd have.... Well, I'd have quite a few dimes. I'd like to say I had a part in his wonderfulness, but alas, he came that way. His mom is amazing and I'm thankful each and every day for the son she raised. When we were dating is when I learned the depths of his compassion and caring for others. My older sister Cheri is disabled. She lives in a residential rehabilitation center, uses a wheelchair and has the mental capacity of perhaps a 4 or 5 year old. She's fairly non-verbal but does communicate with us. She can say no, mama, and baby. Cheri loves music. She especially loves the music of The Sta

I think I shall write a once-a-week blog post on what nuggets of wisdom I've sopped up with my middle aged brain during the previous...you know, week. Perhaps then when I'm nearing my dottage (hush up, Ken)I'll have a plethora of useful facts to read in order to jog my memory. Or not. 1. It's possible to cram 12 adolescent females into a suburban legally licensed to carry 7 passengers. Please do not ask me how I know this fact. 2. Adolescent females can apparently go vegan at the drop of a sad animal video. And then switch right back to being an omnivore the second you've loaded your fridge with tofu, bean sprouts, vegan cookbooks and vegan refried beans in order to support their desire to eschew all things meaty. You may ask me how I know this, but expect a lengthy diatribe and bring tissues. 3. I am walking kind of, sort of ok until I am brutalized by my physical therapist Ken. Then I cannot walk worth beans for two days afterward. Speaking of beans, an

especially when you've just experienced a string of rather unsettling events. What else could go wrong? This is a HUGE NO NO. It's like talking about extra money you just came into while driving your car. IT CAN HEAR YOU! No, it really can and it will immediately develop something that requires you spend your extra money (down to the penny) on it. We never talk money in the car. Never ever. I once made the mistake of saying out loud how amazing it was that we had been Children's ER Free for over a month. BAM! Not more than three hours later we were sitting in a tiny hot room with one of our girls laying on the hospital bed. Today, after a rather painful night in which one of the kids had to sleep with me and my husband had to sleep elsewhere, we ended up at the pediatrician and then would have been admitted into the hospital (but weren't, that's another story entirely), our basement flooded and then the suburban become possessed. No, it did. There was no

But first.....let's talk about this life for a few minutes. I've had two...no three, physical therapy visits this month. I won't go into the gory details on how much fun they aren't. I think I've mentioned my first one and I don't care to revisit that horror. However, on my second visit I was told I was walking wrong. Did you know you can walk wrong? Apparently you can. And I am. Was. Let me explain. When you injure your leg and/or knee, your body doesn't want to hurt any more. Smart body. In order to not hurt when you walk, your body automatically makes changes in how you walk in order to avoid pain. Avoiding pain is good. I like avoiding pain. In fact my body likes avoiding pain to the point that it's made me walk wrong . This means I have to learn to walk the RIGHT way again. You might think this would be an easy task. I mean, I've been walking correctly for the better part of half a century. I should know how to do this. No. M

After I pulled into the driveway and came to a stop, my son reached for the door handle to get out. "Hey, stay for a sec", I said, reaching out to him. He had the door open and half his body out of the suburban already. "Mom... I know what you're gonna say" "Yeah?" He pulled himself back entirely onto the passenger seat and reached over to hug me. "I like spending time with you too Mom." I held on to him. We'd just spent a few hours together, unintentionally and unplanned. Those are the best kinds of impromptu times, right? I was planning on going to the Temple today and he had to go over to Factoria about a job he was starting. Misty weather made for wet slippery roads and since I didn't want him to take his motorcycle, I offered him a ride. I was going in the same direction anyway. Dropping him off at the Thai place, I decided to stay there for a minute or two and talk to my bank about my poor memory regarding my pin number

He hit me with a hard rubber end of a hammer-like thing and smiled. I jumped. It hurt. Was it supposed to hurt? Why would he hit me like that unless he wanted to hurt me? And why was smiling like that? What sadistic person is this that has come into my life? Sadly, that was just the beginning of the pain I endured at Kyle's hands today. He poked at me, he twisted me around, he forced me up some stairs...down some stairs and when he was done with that pansy easy stuff, he HOOKED ME UP TO SOME ELECTRIC CURRENT AND COVERED MY LEG IN AN ICE WATER FILLED PLASTIC CUFF AND MADE ME LAY THERE FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES WHILE THE ELECTRIC CURRENT ZAPPED ME! Yes, I began physical therapy today. It is not for the weak. It's not even for the strong. It's just for us damaged folk who haven't been able to walk right in two months. Kyle is a nice--albeit bossy--physical therapist. I suppose he's got to be the pushy type in order to make recalcitrant patients like myself do thing