Battered and Bruised

I suppose since Jon has been married to me for almost two years, it's about time he started seeing the real me. That is to say, the real me which is the completely clutzy/accident-prone/should-be-wearing-a-full-suit-of-armor-everyday me.

I've fallen off the back of a moving pickup, walked into countless doors, get caught on any sort of knob with any part of my clothing, bump into walls, and fallen down flights of stairs multiple times.

But now... It's gettin' ugly.

A few weeks back I was throwing something away in the big trashcans in the garage and somehow managed to have the thing flip over and fall onto my foot. Mind you, these are the big cans the city gives you that people set curbsite, with the huge lids. There were 2 big bags of dog food sitting on the lid waiting to be put away, and I thought I could somehow easily lift off the lid and throw whatever it was away, then be about my business. But no - the weight of the dog food being lifted threw the balance onto the back wheels, causing the entire can to flip and fall on my foot. It happened so fast. Needless to say, my two toes next to my big toe, along with the joints on my foot turned lovely shades of blue and stayed that way for several weeks. My foot is still sore.

Tonight, just another example of how random things happen to me. First of all, there were no babies harmed in the making of this accident. I had Harper in her sling as that's become our nighttime routine to get her to sleep. She was sleeping soundly as I went about my business of cleaning up the kitchen. I was putting a case of soda into the fridge but had to pull off the cardboard opening that the fridge packs have. Well, instead of just pulling off the corrugated part to make a lovely opening for the soda, half of the entire front came off too. And with that, a can of soda fell to the ground, so while I jumped to help avoid it from landing on my foot, it smashed to the ground and burst open, spraying soda EVERYWHERE. Somehow in me jumping around trying to avoid the can, I slipped on the now-wet floor and fell straight to the ground. Thankfully (for Harper) I managed to partly catch myself on the island and fell right on my knees. The little stinker never even flinched, even as I squeeled then cried out in pain--LOUDLY.

Of course Jon was there in .28 seconds (just like he was with the trash can incident) and took the baby from me as I tried to scrape myself off the floor. Soda-soaked pants and all, I got up and looked around at the damage. Soda covering EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!! And ending up far into the outer-reaches of our kitchen, even making its way into the halls. The doors, the cabinets, the walls, the inside of the fridge... ugh. I think our floor is going to be sticky for days, no matter how much I mop it.

As of now I've got a nice swollen spot on my knee with another one forming. My back is beginning to hurt and I've just noticed a slight ache in my hand that caught the island. Oy.

Pretty sure Jon is trying not to imagine just what awaits us next.....