Heart Breaker

Since I'm finally over feeling like a horrible mother, I'm ready to post these pictures of our 'lil sweetie in her hot-pink cast. She had already forgotten about the cast after about a day. And thank goodness it's waterproof. We can still take a bath and hang at the pool.

You're probably wondering how this happened, so here it is. We were visiting her grandparents in Orlando last weekend when she decided to hop out of her pack-and-play during nap time. Being the great mom that I am, I kept putting her back in. She climbed out a good 3 or 4 times before I called it quits and let her nap on the sofa. She slept on a dog bed the rest of the trip since I realized there was no keeping her in the crib.

She complained on and off all week, saying "Arm hurts. Fell out a bed." But she continued on playing and going about her business like normal. It was only certain movements that seemed to bother her. So, after a week (gulp), I took her in to her pediatrician who then sent her for x-rays. Low and behold the two bones in her forearm were affected. One was fractured and the other "buckled."

After crying for the majority of the day (both of us), I took her to an orthopedic to get the cast. She has to wear it for three weeks. I was relieved to learn she didn't have to wear it any longer than that. But no jumping or "playing" for three weeks sounds like torture (for both of us).

Wish us luck and please spare the "I'm calling CPS" jokes.

My Shorty

Our poor daughter is being subjected to my secret love of hip-hop music. Fortunately, she gets some variation with a little Buena Vista Social Club, Jack Johnson, and The White Stripes, amongst others.

Eyes Like Yours

It didn't happen

As many of you know, we've had to make some significant home repairs in the last few weeks (costing us the equivalent of about 6,000 Jr. Whoppers...gulp). For one, we ripped out our master bath shower, installled all new tile, new fixtures and a new glass door. Then we patched drywall downstairs where the plumber had cut out a big section. Then we installed new recessed lighting in our kitchen. (The latter wasn't necessary, but logical since we were already patching up the ceiling near our old 1985-style fluorescent box.) Of course, WE didn't actually DO any of it. We couldn't even if we tried. So the Jr. Whoppers were all spread out over many workers over the last several weeks.

Being the pessimist and insomniac that I am, I've stayed up many nights assuming the first day we'd use the new shower, the kitchen ceiling would leak again or just plain fall in. I envisioned lawsuits and threats and many bottles of Advil. I imagined the conversations I would have with the tile guy. "Yeah. Hey Paul. It's Erika. Um, we really need you to get out here. When Kevin got in the shower this morning it started to rain in our kitchen."

I couldn't be happier to report that we both took event-free showers this morning. And I am thrilled to step onto new, fresh tile instead of stepping on 15 squirty water toys, a whale-shaped watering can, a platic Dora doll and 4 plastic turtles.

I know what you're thinking. "Welcome to home ownership." Pmhmfff.