Thursday I got the kids all bundled up and ready to take Kestrel to preschool. All went well - visited with a neighbor briefly along the way - and we were on our merry way. Half way there (it's about a fifteen minute walk), the rear right wheel fell off of my double stroller. SON OF A.....(insert bad word here). This is the second Evenflo stroller I have purchased and experienced this EXACT same problem with. I am composing the angry letter now. In my head. So - back I went to the house to get the spare parts I thankfully had to repair the wheel. It still fell off a few more times along the way and I was starting to get scared that it would come off in the middle of a crosswalk and I and my children would be hit by a bus. Now let me interject here and say that it is not exactly rocket science to install the wheels on these strollers, otherwise I would be questioning my technique - but the only thing thats hold said wheels on are two little plastic clip-type pieces and then a "hubcap". I cannot be the only one experiencing this problem. So, cursing and swearing along the way, I called the preschool to let them know we'd be late, then called hubby to ask what time he would be returning home as I was NOT going to go through this on the trip back. I was going to camp out at Laura's and wait for him if necessary. As it turned out, he had a large window of time and could come get us when preschool was over - great. I can assure you that catching a heavy stroller with 60 some odd pounds of child in it - not good for the lower back. So I have been in a little pain.
Had a nice visit with Laura and I was able to drop off a little gift I made for her kidlet. I think it turned out rather cute, don't you?
Yesterday I dropped off the kids at daycare and came back home with hubby, who had to head up to his attic office. I took a leisurely shower and then applied makeup in front of the t.v. without little fingers trying to get at all of my expensive cosmetics. Then I blow-dryed my hair - another event that rarely happens alone. On my way back to the couch to retrieve my jewellery (I take all of it off, save my wedding ring, and hardly wear it when the kids are around) and WHAM! I nailed the toes of my right foot on the leg of the stupid gigantic coffee table that resides in my living room.
It hurt so bad and I knew that it was painful because I bypassed swearing and went straight to crying. I stuck my boot on right away so that it wouldn't swell (a wise decision on my part) and headed out to Metrotown Centre. I had me some shopping to do. I was limping pretty bad by the time I reached the mall, but I decided to just "shop through the pain" and guess what? That first excursion into Zara brought on a burst of endorphins so delightful that I became giddy and almost forgot my pain. Next was Old Navy, then the Gap, then Roots, Gymboree and finally Shoppers Drug Mart for some tape to bind my toes. I won't say how much money I spent today, but Hayden did very well. I got one thing for myself - another pair of jeans and was having such bad jean angst again in the change room that I had to fight off the tears by repeating to myself "skewed body image, skewed body image" over and over until I remembered that I have had three children and I am not a celebrity who can afford a personal trainer and live-in nanny. The thing is, I don't often look at myself in a full-length mirror and so I walk around in this blissful state of unawareness thinking I look alright and then I go into the change room and turn peuce at the image that stands before me. Laura tries to tell me I look just fine and I so appreciate that, but I wish I could convince myself of it fully, too. Time to get out the Body Image Workbook that I purchased ages ago. Sigh.
So. The foot. When I arrived back home, laden with packages I was happy to get the boots off and then had a look at my sore little toe. Um, ew. This is what I beheld:
Purple and green and black, oh my!
Later last night it looked like this:
Make sure you take note of the pedicure - isn't the nail polish pretty?
But back to the shopping. I got the cutest pair of shoes for Hayden. You'll never guess what size they are. Give up? Size one half. Not a 0, not a 1. Here's the best part - they are too long (so he really is a 0), but there is NO WAY I can cram his thick little feet into them. DRAT! I am going to have to investgate Payless and see if they have something for him there. Bummer.
But since I know you are all waiting for photos of the boy and not my foot, here you go:
FYI, the blurry photos = hubby, the clear photos = me.
In the household news, I received a money order via the maintenance enforcement folks from the deadbeat dad for a whopping $200. Wow - he's really putting a dent in that 18+ grand debtload! If I was really vindictive, I'd publish his name on this blog - but I'd rather he not be able to find this blog by googling his own name. But....ummm...okay, his name is rant-Gay ohnson-Jay, there - now he can't google me! Haw haw haw! I'm sorry, that's so childish, but I can't help getting nasty on occasion when it comes to him. If only you KNEW the stories of what he put me through. One day I will share some of them with you.
And finally, inspired by my breakfast blog, I have decided to keep track (daily, if I can remember) of some of the foods I eat for breakfast.
Thursday: tea with sugar and cream
Friday: tea, a steamed barbecue pork bun, warmed
Today: tea, three cheese pepperoni sticks (disgusting, I know)