I feel much better now.
Kids are leaving tomorrow, and I am not falling apart at the seams.
My hand is still broken, but I ran six miles today. I have no idea how that happened either other than the putting one foot in front of the other.
No time for yoga today (what with running and taking the kids swimming), but I did lay on my 55 cm ball to stretch things out.
My arthritic fingers are noduled up in full force these past few days – hand surgeon says it relates to the stress of having broken my hand. But I’m alright. My fucking reconstruction is looking worse (to me) every day. But I have a plan.
Maybe all this good cheer is simply the result of having a housekeeper these past two weeks. It’s so much easier to keep at the fingerprints and the dog hair when someone else is doing the bathrooms, the sheets and towels and the vacuuming. That said, I look forward to really polishing this place up this summer and moving the kids toys – all of em – to the newly finished basement. Assuming that it actually is finished one of these days. Right now, the walls, floor, ceiling, lighting, doors, bathroom – all done. What remains is the paint job. Then it’s time to get the place up and running as a full-on recreation room (my yoga room needs nothing but paint of course).
So, someone called me a chicken shit today – an anonymous commenter. Ha. I am so NOT chicken shit just because I choose not to suffer unduly. Not that I owe an explanation. But I felt like giving one anyway.