Trouble Afoot Chez Watson

"Tiny Tim is coming!" BeBop yells, quite inappropriately, each morning as I crutch my way down the hallway toward the babies.  CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK is the sound you can hear about three minutes before I actually enter a room.

So here's the dealio:  the first doctor who stated that I would be off the crutches within a week, that I would then use a walking boot alone, and that the total recovery time was 4-5 weeks was either 1) a sick, twisted individual who thrives on giving patients false expectations; 2) an escaped metal patient from the psych ward who tackled a real doctor, knocked him out with a blow to the head or the liberal application of chloroform to a white handkerchief, stole his white coat and shoved him in a nearby supply closet and spent the day impersonating a doctor; or 3) JUST WRONG.

WRONG WRONG WRONG

When I saw a specialist the week after breaking my foot, he said that I would get the walking boot, but have to be on crutches for AT LEAST another 3-4 weeks AND the total recovery time was more like 8-12 weeks. WTF?? And let me tell you, this 'walking boot' looks like something Darth Vader's bride would wear. It's just huge and cumbersome and hideous and doesn't match with ANYTHING. And? I have to pretty much wear some kind of running shoe type deal on the other foot, because I'm such a freakin' klutz I'm afraid without the proper support on my right foot I'm asking for trouble.

And as if getting that news wasn't bad enough, the doctor had a wall-mounted Shop Vac in the exam room. "What's that for?" I asked.  "To get rid of the evidence," he said.  "Hahaha. No really. What's it for?" I persisted.  DUMBASS that I am.  "For the callouses and toe nails." 

Me = sorry I asked.

So I'm hobbling around and will be until Christmas, for crissakes, and can't even really be alone with the babies because they're crawling all over the place and I can't keep up with them, but worse, I can't pick them up and carry them. For some reason they're just not up to speed on the whole 'get your asses in here and get in your highchairs and make yourself some dinner and while you're at it get Mommy a big glass of wine' routine I've tried to implement.  DAMN you 10 and 1/2 month old ingrates!

But here's the good news, the Baby Blessing was just fantastic.  Even though I was hobbling around, and I couldn't get my roots done (so my hair looked like ASS), and I didn't have a kicky new outfit that would hide my flabbiness (so I looked, well, huger than I would have liked) and I couldn't get a mani or a pedi (so my feet and hands were a hot mess) and the house was far from perfect (so I looked totally disorganized) and from this angle it was a perfect storm of unhappiness, even though all of this was in the background, it was still a beautiful, meaningful, once-in-a-lifetime day.

I tried to plan a 'green' party, which turned out great. I sent on-line invites using pingg.com, I ordered biodegradable plates, cups and plasticware from here, and I hired a caterer who served* local, organic food. There were cloth napkins leftover from my sister's wedding and I had water in glass pitchers instead of plastic bottles.  (I was hoping to use small, potted plants as centerpieces but that plan was a casualty of my foot so I did have cut flowers on the tables.) BeBop designed programs that we printed on paper made from the bark of a renewable tree, that we found here and the coolest part is that the paper contains wildflower seeds, so if you plant it, it will bloom! For thank you letters, I sent these adorable, on-line notes from iomoi.

I won't bore you with details of the actual ceremony, but if you're interested please e-mail me.  The short version is, we started with a welcome and then oaths that the grandparents and the Godparents took.  Then I read a letter that I'd written to the babies the night before they were born. (Thank you scheduled c-section!).  We said a blessing to the babies and made a promise of how we wanted to raise them.  And then my sister and a close friend each read a poem, followed by a closing prayer.

I think it was a very different experience for our guests.  But people just went with it and afterward, said it was a wonderful ceremony.

And then because we don't want to throw another party at the end of November, we cheated a bit and celebrated the babies' birthday a tad early.  At the end of the party, we all gathered around Jax and Parker and let them each dig into a cupcake.  This was the first time they have ever had sugar (other than fruit and some Cheerios) and can I just say that if Parker could talk, she would have said, "Mommy  YOU SUCK for keeping such deliciousness away from me.  I'd yell 'I hate you' and run to my room but first I have to devour this yummy mess of chocolate and frosting and NOM NOM NOM NOM!!"

And Jackson would have said, "Ummmm…this thing you gave me is okaaaaayyyyy….BUT WHY ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE STARING AT ME??  I AM NOT a circus freak FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAKE THEM STOP LOOKING AT MEEEEEEE!!"

Some fairly poor-quality shots to show you:

So there you have it!  That's what's new around here. I haven't been able to post sooner because seriously, after crutching around all day MY ARMS HURT.

*When I first posted this, I wrote "served used local, organic food…" With my stellar editing SKLS I forgot to take one of the words out, and DaisyCake commented that that really would be a new way to go green. And possibly moldy. And we did not do that. But slow food? HA. I'm thinking USED food might be a new movement that we've stumbled upon.