Let’s Dance

I’ve gotten the girls hooked on the “Wicked” soundtrack. When we drive to school in the mornings, there are periodic requests for specific songs, and their favorites change frequently. Helen currently likes “For Good,” so we listened to that as we were driving through Jones Valley this morning to drop her off.

Then Alice wanted to hear “Dancing Through Life,” though she asked for it differently: “You know, Mommy! The one with the beautiful girl in the chair! And then he says ‘Let’s Dance’ and she says ‘What?'”

So Alice and I sat in the parking lot of her school for about 5 minutes, listening to the whole song. She crawled over the console into the front and just hugged on me for the entire time, showering me with kisses and smiling at me.

In the middle of the night, Alice came upstairs and silently stood next to me until I noticed her, and so I pulled her into bed to spoon with me for a little while. She’s such a snuggly little thing; she immediately just cuddled up and passed back out, never saying a single word. After about 30 minutes, when I realized I wouldn’t get a decent night of sleep that way, I asked her if she was ready to go back to bed. She nodded, and silently went back downstairs and crawled back into her own bed. I covered her back up again and kissed her on the head and left the room. So precious.

Funny how all of her transgressions (did I mention that I need to get more Mr. Clean Magic Erasers to eradicate the crayon marks on at least three walls? And that the overwhelming fragrance of the AirWick Scented Oil vessel that she dumped last week is finally dissipating? And that I’m missing the interior bag of my high-fiber cereal and have no idea what she did with it? And that I still can’t find my graphing calculator, two months into the school year? And Jerry finally found my missing wine bottle vacuum sealer under Alice’s bed last night?)…. Sorry, I got distracted. Funny how all of her transgressions can evaporate in just a few short minutes.

I love that she takes my hand in parking lots, that she randomly tells me that she loves me and that I’m the “best Mommy she’s ever had,” she likes my cooking, and that she’ll stop playing abruptly to race across the room and get a hug, only to return to her play without saying anything. For all her terrorism, I end the day knowing that she loves me and knows that she is loved, too. And it doesn’t get any better than that.


Usually, I take Aleve before I go to the gym to meet with the trainer, just like I took it before I went to PT. It would just take the edge off of the knee pain so I could push myself a little more.

Today I forgot.

And I had decided to walk to the gym, which is about 1.75 miles from here. About .5 of a mile on the way, I realized that I hadn’t taken the Aleve. Too far to go back and get it and still get to the trainer on time, unless I drove, which I didn’t want to do — I need to be out there walking. So I just kept going.

Yeah, OK, won’t make THAT mistake again. It was obvious to me and the trainer what a difference that makes for me, because I was in tears multiple times — just doing simple stuff like squats or hib abduction exercises. So we did a LOT more abdominals work today than usual, since I was quite limited on the legs.

Walking home wasn’t bad, though. I expected to be in a lot of pain, but I guess since I was stretched out it was fine.

I’m so ready to be back to normal. I wonder if I’ll ever get to see normal again, though, or if I’m always going to have some pain. Which makes me wonder why the hell I did this to myself in the first place.

Who are YOU?

I just love this picture of Helen and JD, because it so captures both of their personalities. Love it, love it, love it.

Digital stuff used: ASO A Princess Collection, EHI SS Calligraphy, DMI SSPaper Edgy, ABR HisnHers, TCS SSPaper Beautiful Distress, MRE Downtown, ASO Ultimate Grunge Brushes, all from ScrapGirls.com; KMize Web Challenge 07Jul08, AAspnes Monoblendz Woodsey, KPertiet Grunged Up Photo Blocks, KPertiet Graphic Pop Overlays, all from DesignerDigitals.com