Welcome to 2014!
I’m determined to stay on point this year, as this has been my kids’ “baby book”, not to mention, my much needed outlet for all things complaining, whining, and just talking crap.
We finally have a dining room, albeit a little disorganized still… so what better time to get an awesome dining room table. I guess this means I’ll have to entertain once in a while. Eh. Once the toe is healed, we’ll be all good. This awesome table was made by a woman named Amanda right here in Minnesota (if you’d like her info, let me know). It’s pine, rustic, seats up to 10, and is absolutely perfect. We were able to choose the size, color, and pick one of two styles.
We picked up the table not even a week ago, on a beautiful sunny, “freezing my ass off” afternoon. We took the truck. Duh. The truck that had a few 60lb sandbags in it, courtesy of my sister’s new hubby, for a more pleasant (and less slippy slide-y) winter driving experience.
The sandbags needed to be moved from the truck to successfully load the table into the truck. Trying to help, I jumped into the back of the truck and attempted to move them. Realizing they had frozen to the truck bed, I made a split-second decision (that I highly regret) to kick one in the attempt to loosen it. What the H-E-double hockey sticks was I thinking? The damn thing was frozen. Wouldn’t be such a big deal, except that 1) it was like kicking a 60lb block of ice, and 2) I was wearing my incredibly warm, yet “not even close to steel-toed” Sorel boots.
My initial reaction went something like this. “Damn, that was stupid.” I blew it off and assumed I had totally broken my toenail to the point that makes you shudder when you think about having to remove your sock to look at it. The guys finished securing the table in the truck and off we went. As we got to the end of the driveway, I removed my boot and elevated my foot by putting it up on the dash to try and remove the throbbing pain. “Yes, let’s grab something to eat before we go home.” Sure, why not.
On the drive home, I knew I wouldn’t be able to help carry the table into the house. Brother Tim graciously came over to help. It occurred to me that it probably wouldn’t be smart to try and teach my Zumba class the next day, so I put a notice up on Facebook. The next morning, I knew something wasn’t right. Off to the clinic. Who should check me in, but one of my fellow Zumba-ites. I recall a bit of a chuckle and roll of the eyes as she saw me walk in the door (having seen my Facebook post the day prior.) Ooooo. I forgot… I haven’t even mentioned that yet. Yes, I became a Zumba instructor and started teaching this past December. Sadly, Zumba is going dark for “resolution month”.
See that crack? Yup, that’s my big toe. My always vigilant husband did tell me, “Don’t try and move those sandbags, I’ll get them.” Maybe next time I’ll listen. Probably not (I’m that stubborn type), but maybe.
Gotta love that potty training is in full force too. While I hate sitting around, quickly hobbling to the bathroom every time I hear, “Mommy, I have to go potty,” isn’t my idea of quality, vigorous exercise.
Here’s to hoping that 2014 perks up a tad in February.