What a day!
It’s been 3 months since my baby Sarah was born and we STILL had not taken family pictures! Or even newborn pictures! What a bad Mom I am! No adorable pics of my baby girl’s naked newborn skin, or her peaceful sleeping face, or even her itty bitty hands and feet. Nothing. Nada.
Finally I’d had enough and called up my best friend to setup a photo shoot with all the beautiful changing leaves around town. Today was our photo shoot.
It started raining before we got to the park, but as soon as we got there it stopped! Hurray! Overcast skies but BEAUTIFUL trees everywhere we looked. Vibrant oranges, reds, yellow, and every shade in between.
Sarah was fairly cooperative for the first 30 min. but after an hour she was DONE! I think we got some pretty cute shots in. We’ll see in the next few days!
As we left the park my adorable hubby got stung by a bee. Under his shirt. Frieked him out! The bee was actually still in his shirt so when we got to the car 5 min. later he sat down and started feeling the bee moving around under his shirt! Needless to say, frieked him out AGAIN! You know I love you babe! Ended up giving him lots of sympathy during our ride to Cracker Barrel. All I can say is, YUM!
On with the story…
Later that afternoon, to thank my friend for taking our pics, I headed over to her house with my 4 kiddos to help her trim her bushes. Last year she spent HOURS manually using hedge clippers to cut all her hedges, so this year I brought over my electric hedger and showed her how a REAL WOMAN does it!
All was going fine and dandy, and her rose bushes were looking quite amazing (If I do say so myself, and I do!) when all of a sudden…
I stepped back to admire my work and…
STEPPED INTO A HOLE IN HER GRASS!
Okay, not such a big deal right? Sorry, I just really wanted to put it in all caps.
But YES it is such a big deal because that hole was too small for my left foot. I immediately felt my foot buckle underneath me and fell to the ground.
And heard, as clear as day, a:
I got up and brushed off my jeans and thought that was odd that I heard a pop (because, obviously, I know what a pop means!) because I didn’t feel a single bit of pain in my foot.
That was weird, I thought.
Then my friend came over and asked me a question (can’t remember what) and I told her, “Hmmm, I fell in that hole, and I heard a pop.” Then I tried to take a step forward and all of a sudden said, “Oh that sucks. This is so totally NOT a good time to break my foot.”
I could feel my foot starting to heat up on the side. And as I made my way over to the chair just a few feet away, with each limping step I could feel more and more pain.
I took off my shoe and just stared at my foot.
Luckily there was no blood to match my bright red toenail polish. Instead, I noticed something slightly odd. Again with the word: Odd. I’ll have to come up with some better distinguishing adjectives next time, sorry.
Feel free to cringe
Between my pinky toe and my ankle (right in the very middle on the side) I noticed my skin jutting out in a sickening mountain off my foot.
I called my husband and told him very calmly, “I broke my foot. I’ll meet you at the urgent care place.”
But after hopping to my friend’s car, and having to put weight on my foot by stepping DOWN into her garage (OH MY GOSH I HAVE NEVER FELT SO MUCH PAIN!) I lost it.
I clenched my teeth and fought back the tears but they kept coming. And then the sobs started. And then the muffled moans.
Somehow in the 20 min. car ride to the urgent care place I pulled it together. It was actually feeling quite normal by then, as long as I didn’t try to move it or (Heaven forbid!) try to put any weight on it!
They did a few x-rays and came up with the conclusion that I had come up with an hour earlier. I broke my foot. And dang, it hurt.
Not even a boot?
But I didn’t need surgery, a cast, or even a “boot.” I was told it would “heal by itself” and that I could wear supportive tennis shoes to help walk.
“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PAIN!?!” I said. I don’t care if I can wear tennis shoes to help support my foot. If I can’t put pressure on it there’s no reason for a tennis shoe at all!
Apparently I must have whined enough (Who doesn’t whine when they break something?) because I got sent home with a pair of crutches.
And that’s how my night ended: with a friend who felt REALLY BAD that I broke my foot in her backyard trying to help her trim her bushes.
It’s actually quite a funny story, if you can forget about the part with the broken foot and the pain and all.
I’d ask for a few kind words of sympathy, but then I’d feel sorry for myself for even asking. Okay, okay… I’ll take the sympathy.