NaNoBroKneePlo (or something like that!)

Did I really agree to do both NaNoWriMo (12,347 words and counting)AND NaBloPloMo (Day 6 and no one has died yet.) and start up my freelance work again and redo the floors in my house (which means massive decluttering) AND try to catch those every important naps?  Not to mention editing The Book.  Ugh.

imageSo, for today, since I did agree to do NaBloPoMo, I have to post.  All I really want to do is crawl into the cozy goodness that is my bed.  My day has consisted of having one son home vomiting.  (I don’t do vomit!) And my teen?  Well, let’s just say when you take one teenage boy, add in a skateboard at a skate park it is not uncommon to find yourself in the ER after such an event.  Yes, once again, the skateboard and my son went at it.  The skateboard won and now Brandon is on crutches with a severely sprained knee.  This boy is tough as nails so when he came to me this morning in agony, there was no way I was going to send him to school.  No instead he got pampering and the royal treatment and a pain pill or two from the doctor. (I think it was the pain pill that finally made him smile, but the mom in me needs to think that it was my TLC that did it.  Give me that indulgence, mmmkay?) The meds helped, but he is still in pain.  Sprains are the worst for him. He tends to always make them just a bit worse before he gets them better.  Of course, telling him to use his crutches is always met with an eye roll.  And god forbid I tell him to stay off of his leg because Moooommmmm I am so bored! There are days when I wonder which is harder:  the sleepless nights when he was a newborn and I was up every 2 hours with him as he screamed bloody hell murder due to his colic or trying to keep him safe in a world that is not made of nerf. (No matter how hard I try to keep it that way.) I am beginning to think that the hardest years are ahead of me.  (This is one of those moments when you can totally lie to me and tell me that “Of course it is all easy from here on out.  Go on. LIE!) But tomorrow…tomorrow we party like it’s 1969.  (Yes, 1969…the year I was born. As in my birthday.  Oh yeah, like I wasn’t going to bring THAT up!  Puhleez!  Are you new here?)


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