Yesterday was a really great day for us and I am really grateful for all of the “Easter Bunnies” who helped out. Jack was extremely happy with all that the Easter Bunny brought for him, including a sandbox with new toys, some new socks, new sticker books and candy. Casey was a trooper through church (which fell during naptime) and looked pretty darn cute in her Easter outfit.
Dinner turned out great despite the fact that my pistachio-encrusted lamb turned into macadamia-encrusted pork tenderloin. Apparently, it wasn’t that everyone else in the area was making pistachio-encrusted items, but actually a recall that emptied the shelves of pistachios. So glad I didn’t accost any store associates to find out why they couldn’t keep their shelves stocked with this obviously high-demand Easter cooking ingredient. Fortunately, the macadamias held up well as a replacement. And the ultimate compliment to my dessert was that Pat wanted to eat the whole tart in one sitting.
But as for today…I’m pretty much done with today.
I’m done with bumping my head on the swingset after crawling out of the new sandbox. I’m done with getting kicked in the face by Jack while he lays in bed. I’m done with Casey biting me when she’s tired or hungry.
I’m done with leftover Easter candy. I’m done with stickers all over the flat surfaces of my house. I’m done with plastic Easter eggs that keep getting redistributed around the house. I’m done with Easter grass that thankfully, has found its way to the garbage can. I’m done with finding Easter decorations in diapers…I was pretty sure those letters were supposed to spell Happy Easter, not P A P T E A E.
I’m done with Jack not needing any covers (blankets) on because he has socks…”Jack has socks. No covers.” And then going back upstairs 2 minutes after he’s in bed because he wants covers.
And I’m done with mysterious foot injuries. Not mine this time.
Moving on to the less whiny portion of this post.
This morning, I put Casey down for a nap and settled Jack at the kitchen table with 12 new tubs of Play-Doh and headed upstairs to shower. I even made a few pieces of Play-Doh fruit for him before I left…pears in 4 different colors. (We have a bunch of molds for picnic items.) Midway through my shower I heard a lot of thumping and knew that Jack had abandoned the Play-Doh and was coming up to interrupt my once-peaceful shower. He kind of peeked in at me and smiled, then disappeared again.
After I was done with the shower, I could hear him saying, “Jack only has one leg. Jack only has one leg!” I played along, asking what happened to the other leg. He didn’t have much of a response and I didn’t think any more of it. Most likely there was an attack of pirates downstairs in the middle of his Play-Doh picnic.
He was sitting in front of the window and asked me to go get something for him across the room. He’s been working on his boundaries lately and seeing how good a servant I can be to him, asking me to go get all manner of things all over the house. Mostly I tell him that if he wants something he can go get it. So, I repeated the mantra this time. “Jack only has one leg. Jack can’t walk.” I suggested that maybe he could hop over and get it. Eventually he crawled over and got it, but I still didn’t think much of it.
When Casey woke up, he crawled to her room and then was upset because he couldn’t reach her doorknob while on his hands and knees. Then I started to wonder if something was really wrong with him. He told me he couldn’t walk and his foot hurt. I kept asking which foot to see if he was just playing and would switch up feet. I asked what happened to his foot but he didn’t have any answer to that. I looked at his feet and there was no visible problem. And he didn’t act like he was in any pain.
At the gym, he hobbled across the street and into the play area and then went back to crawling. He seemed pretty happy so I figured this might work itself out while I was gone. Instead, he took his socks off at the gym and was insistent that the childcare lady kiss it for him and that would fix his foot. (We discussed the fact that Mommies are the only people who want to kiss children’s feet.)
I told him we could put some ice on his foot at home. He thought there was a special ice for this purpose – “Not water ice. Foot ice!” That lasted all of two seconds and then he decided a kiss would help. He was able to hobble out to the sandbox after lunch. I shouldn’t laugh, but watching a 2 1/2 year limp was kind of funny.
He thought he would be able to walk after he took a nap, but it still wasn’t better. I looked at his foot from all angles…no swelling, no bruises, nothing that looked abnormal. I poked at it and pulled at it and applied pressure and he kept telling me nothing hurt. The only area that he would point out that hurts was his baby toe. And when I squeezed it, he said it didn’t hurt. But he still couldn’t walk on it.
By bedtime, he was at least done with crawling and had mastered limping a little better. I still don’t know what’s wrong with it, if anything. It’s totally bizarre. He shows no sign of being in pain other than that he limps. He either has a really high pain tolerance or there isn’t any. I’m assuming the thumping I heard while he was in the shower had something to do with it, but I have no idea what he did. Hopefully tomorrow it will be better. Stay tuned.
And now, I’m going to go have some leftover double-citrus tart. And I’m not going to mop my floors.