Blogging Again??

Basically, I'm the worst blogger ever.  Life is busy, and I make excuses.  But if you've read any of what I've ever written, you already know that to be the case.  I've been spending a lot of time sitting on the couch lately, and it's killing me.  So while I'm unable to be productive for my family, I might as well get some blogging done.  I'm hoping this will take my mind off of feeling sorry for myself.

In October, the hubs and I went on a trip to North Carolina for his cousin's wedding.  Having never been there before, I was so excited to make the trip.  That - and I was looking forward to spending time with just B and his brother and sister-in-law.  The trip did not disappoint.  Not only was it an amazing time, but Boone and the surrounding area in mid October was just breathtakingly beautiful.

Beautiful Boone, NC

with B

The best Sister-in-Law a girl could ask for

While doing my thang on the dance floor, I pulled a muscle in calf - or so I thought.  It hurt, but I wasn't about to let a little soreness get in the way of my dance party, so I danced on.  It hurt for a few days.

The following weekend, I went for a run with two of my besties - also known as Team Awesome.  It was a personal distance record for all three of us - 6 miles.  This is a giant accomplishment for me because I'm not really a runner.  More about that later.  Maybe.  They were amazing and helped this mom out by coming to the burbs to run the forest preserve, even though they're both city girls.

Team Awesome at the Lung Run
I don't have a pic of us from this particular day.

It felt amazing.  We didn't listen to music.  We just talked.  About everything under the sun.  3 miles were done in no time and then we turned around and headed back.  At about mile 4, my calf really started bothering me again.  Weirdly, it hurt worse when I walked than when I ran, so I pushed on.  On the girls' advice, I bought some tiger balm (less stinky than bengay or icy hot), iced it, and after a day or two I was fine.

And then came a school assembly.  It wasn't a good one.  But at one point the speakers called out the teachers to get up and dance.  So, I did.  And the kids loved it.  And my calf popped again.

Knowing that I had purchased super cute 3 1/2 inch heels for Anne's wedding just 10 days away, I gave away my bib for the Hot Chocolate 5K.  This was such a hard decision to make.  I knew if I pushed it and tried to run, that I could hurt myself, and standing up in Anne's wedding was WAY more important to me than running next to her in a race - which she totally rocked.  So I responsibly let myself heal.

And then came the wedding.  This could be another post entirely.

With my favorite groomsman before the ceremony

Selfie with the beautiful bride

Everything went off without a hitch.  The bride was gorgeous (obviously ^^), and the groom was sharp as can be.  The ceremony was meaningful and lovely.  Toledo made a surprisingly cool back drop for wedding photos.  The food at the reception was delicious - can you say bacon-wrapped shrimp - and then the dancing began.

The cutest of all the dancers

Middle school dancin' with the groom

And then it happened again - not while performing the sweet moves with the groom, above.  But this time, I was unable to walk at all and in major pain.  The good news is that there were vodka sodas and Yeungling (a delicacy to us Chicagoans) for medication.

The wheelchair obviously didn't get me down

When we got home, B took me to the ER.  They said I had torn a calf muscle, and that I should stay off of it completely for 2 days then start bearing weight again.  If it wasn't better in a week, I should see an orthopedic surgeon.  Alright.  2 days later, I was still unable to bear weight and was in just as much, if not more pain than before.  So I called the orthopedic doc.  For some reason, in my head I thought that I would go in and see him and he'd fit me for a boot of some kind that would make me able to walk again.  Well, that did not happen.  No such magic boot exists.  It is not a muscle tear.  My plantaris tendon is torn.  I have to stay completely off of my leg (not that that's an issue because I still can't be on it anyway) for another 2-3 weeks.  After that, I'll be able to start attempting to walk - but still with crutches.  Then I'll downgrade to walking with one crutch - Tiny Tim style.  The whole reparation process can take 3-6 months.  Sweet.

And this is where I begin to feel sorry for myself.  But not really.  I'm really feeling more sorry for B.  He's already an incredible husband, and I'm not just saying that because he more than likely won't read this anyway.  The man does more than most around the house.  We're a perfect team and have a routine down around here that allows us to be 2 working parents who get it all done and still spend time with the kids and alone.  Now, he's stuck doing everything.  Including taking care of me.

Luckily we have the best friends anyone could ask for who have already helped so much with the kids and meals and grocery shopping.  My sister-in-law is taking over Thanksgiving hosting duties.  These are all things that I do because I WANT to.  Not because I have to.  It's really just hard knowing that I'm unable to do these things and care for my own kids by myself.  This is where my pity party needs to end.  I have to remember that this is not the end of the world.  In the grand scheme of things, there are so many worse things that could be happening in our lives.  Six months from now, I'll look back on these things and laugh.

And when I think about it, if I had it to do all over again, I'd have danced anyway.  It's those moments that truly matter.