Trying to Get Back on Track

I can't even begin to explain how off the rails I've felt the last two weeks. The cold that turned into a sinus infection/bronchitis/blech turned my life upside down. I felt like crap. I couldn't keep my thoughts straight. The house is a disaster. I was a blubbering mess who felt lucky to simply make it through the day so I could go back to bed at night.

Finally, the antibiotics kicked in, the side effects subsided and I finally felt like I was on the road to recovery when we had to literally get on the road to North Carolina. Ugh. A six-hour car ride was not exactly what I had in mind for my first real outing since feeling better.

But, we packed up the sniffling hubby and toddler and my infected head and hit the road on Friday. We went for the bestest of reasons: to celebrate my sister's 30th birthday and meet our new nephew. Unfortunately, the hubby and I were still nervous about any possible germs we were harboring and therefore only peered at our new nephew from afar. No prolonged visits with his parents. No play dates with his big sister. No snuggles with him as he made baby grunts and sighed yummy yeasty breaths. Instead, it was a drive-by viewing with a few snapshots and hugs to go around. Better than nothing.

And, unfortunately, my monkey peanut, in an attempt to avoid a nap in the pack and play, contorted himself somehow and injured his big toe. Poor kid was limping and falling down like a drunk man at my sister's. Took him to the doctor today to get checked out and I survived another parenting right of passage: the x-ray!

He's probably fine. I took a look at the copies and don't see anything, but, of course, I'm no doctor. Instead, I'm waiting for the doctor to call me and give me the official prognosis. Peanut was a total trooper at the doctor. He announced to the nurse that the doctor would give him a band aid to make his foot all better. He told the x-ray technician that he was going to get pictures of his bones and asked a million questions that had the poor man cracking up. He held still and didn't squirm and wasn't frightened at all. He announced that his lollipop was "so tasty" to the waiting room.

After making it home well after lunch time, I've managed to get him fed (thank you Chick-Fil-A drive-thru) and finally settled for a nap. And I'm beginning to work on getting our life back on the rails, which means grocery lists made, coupons cut from yesterday's paper, laundry started, floors cleaned, de-cluttering the travel clutter and the pile of books that's gone untouched since I got sick, and trying to remember that I have a voice (one that isn't raspy from coughing).

Keep your fingers crossed that there isn't anything wrong with peanut's foot. I'm finally feeling like I'm gaining a little control back over our life - orthopedists and immobile toddlers just aren't on my current to-do list. I have other important foot issues to worry about - like planning our High Heeled Mama's Wear Your Heels to Life week. That sounds like much more fun!