So we have this giant ball pit/bouncer thing that we got Audrey for her birthday. She LOVES it. Seriously. She loves to be in it. She loves putting her toys in it. She loves getting in then getting out then getting back in and so on...
Only problem is she can't get in on her own and can only get out by herself if she does some crazy backbend/flip sorta thing. Looks REALLY painful.
After about 15 minutes of this in/out/in/out/in again business, I'm exhausted. My back hurts from bending and lifting her so many times. (And bending is getting harder and harder to do! I'm 24 weeks pregnant with another monstrous baby girl so.... Yeah, that's really another story.)
Now keep in mind that we live in a two bedroom apartment and have no playroom and really very little space in her bedroom so this ball pit stays out in the living room/dining room/is this a Toys R Us??. It's too big to move through doorways so I can't easily put it out of her sight. So this is where it stays (at least until she figures out how to move the chairs):
On top of the table. That we never use. Except we did use it once when we dyed Easter eggs. And that one time Mark's parents came to visit us. Yep. That's it. I think. Twice in nearly 10 months... One of these days we'll have those nice family dinners around the table. I hope.
Anyways.
A couple of days ago Audrey pointed to the ball pit and signed "please" and pointed and signed "please" so I gave in and got the ball pit down for her.
Only I didn't lift it high enough off the chair before pulling back and the chair crashed to the floor. On top of my foot. I didn't even realize that it was falling. Didn't brace myself or move my foot one inch before that thing hit the top of my foot.
OUCH!
Only I really didn't want to say ouch. But I bit my tongue for a really long time because I try my very bestest to not swear. Especially in front of my so very impressionable and eager to learn new words 13 month old daughter.
BUT OH MY GOODNESS I WANTED SO VERY BAD TO DO JUST THAT!!!
But I didn't.
I held my tongue. And my breath. And then I felt kind of dizzy so I breathed again.
The good news is I'm 95% certain my foot is not broken. The chair hit me right on top of the arch of my foot. Right in that nice bony place where there is not fat or muscle or even much skin. Just bone.
I can move my toes and I can usually put weight on it. Unless I have a shoe on. That still hurts really bad. Or unless my husband kicks it in the middle of the night. Or Audrey starts falling and stomps on it. Or I forget that it's bruised and whack it on my other leg when getting out of bed in the morning. Or when I'm just being clumsy and walk into things.
I seriously considered taking a giant butcher knife and stabbing the life out of this thing so I wouldn't have to deal with her pointing and "pleasing" and inning and outing. But I won't. Because she seriously loves this thing.
And I love it when she's happy.