But then we were outbid on
We have until the end of March until we're homeless, so - you know - plenty of time.
And I got a clean scan! But then I slipped on our concrete floor and it turns out my damn arm is fractured. Lesson learned: fuzzy socks and turning a quick corner on polished concrete don't mix. Guess who's not laughing, universe?
The doctor confirmed it today, after almost ten days of excruciating pain. (Originally there was too much swelling to tell on the X-ray). Today, the day Chris left for Africa for three weeks. On doctor's orders I'm supposed to "take lots of Vicodin and don't lift anything." I'm not totally sure how that's supposed to work with a thirty pound toddler and no spouse. I mean, I get the lots of Vicodin part, but my twenty-two month old still likes to be picked "up, up, Mama!"
How do you say no to this face?
Sun Valley for what I hope will be a restful, relaxing weekend with dear friends. My broken arm means I won't be skiing, but that means I get to spend a little more time making snow angels with my boy. That's one way to ice my injury, right?