Tuesday, March 12, 2013

I'm old

"Orthopedically speaking, 30 is old." That's what my doctor said to me today, regarding my shoulder. He is the kind of doctor where this made me laugh instead of indulging a more violent impulse. I've done something to the rotator cuff, but it's probably not serious. However, any exercises involving shoulder movement are out. That pretty much eliminates any of the major upper body exercises. Just when I was starting to get some meat on my chicken wings.

MRI tomorrow or Thursday to find out what's really wrong. Is it weird that I'm mostly just excited about experiencing an MRI?

I'm so glad I took up running last summer. I still suck at it, but now I've done it enough that it's a reliable form of exercise.

The weather here is magical. Mid-fifties and sunny today, and the girls and I spent all morning outside. I think my optimism over the shoulder thing has a lot to do with all the sunlight I soaked up today. In MARCH. I hope if we ever have to move again, it will only be farther south.

Emmy surprised us the other night by sauntering out of her room, belly-first, and announcing that she had to go potty.

She's still in a crib.

Or was. We converted it to a toddler bed the next day, and shenanigans ensued. However, she seems much more malleable than Grace was over learning to stay in bed. After a disastrous night and naptime the next day, she slept so hard last night that she fell out of bed onto the floor and was still sound asleep there 12 hours later when Grace woke up.

"Mom. MOM." I woke up to Grace standing over my bed (I don't care how cute your kid is, it's super creepy when they do this, no matter what time of morning it is).
"Emmy is ASLEEP. On the FLOOR."
"Mom. MOM. That means she GOT OUT OF BED."

Grace is so serious about perceived transgressions. I hope she channels this into something beneficial, like becoming a judge (in court or on American Idol, I'm not picky), instead of starting her own Westboro.

"That's okay, honey. She's asleep. I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose."
"Oh. Okay." I can't tell if she was disappointed or relieved. I was still too sleepy.

Emmy's mood was so improved today that she streaked through the house for ten full minutes growling (a happy growl). I worked this to my advantage.

"Emmy. How do you feel today? Are you happy?"
"Do you know why you're happy?"
"I slept last night."
"Do you remember yesterday? Were you sad yesterday?"
"Do you know why you were sad?"
"I didn't sleep."
"Okay. Do you want to be happy or sad tomorrow?"
"So do you think you'll let yourself sleep tonight?"

It kind of worked. It only took her an hour to shut up tonight. Baby steps.

Update: At 6:00 this morning I woke up to the sounds of Emmy being drawn and quartered.

OR what really happened is that she was choosing that particular moment to scream about the toy we had to take away from her when she got out of bed some eight hours earlier. But it really sounded like the former. When do children grow out of the disproportionate screaming stage?

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