I keep falling down.
I wish that were a metaphor, but it's the truth. I started the previous school year by stumbling over a crack in a sidewalk and doing a faceplant in front of a TV crew in town to film some episodes of The Librarian and ended it by stumbling down a friend's front walk, dropping the meal I was bringing his family as he recovered from surgery.
This year, I started the year by tripping backwards down the stairs over Labor Day weekend, giving myself a concussion that continues to plague me with ringing in my ears, frequent headaches, and a near-constant need for naps. During the snows of January, I took ONE measly little walk and ended up spraining my ankle badly enough that it left me with a permanently puffy foot. And this weekend--the final holiday weekend of the year, so a tidy little piece of symmetry--I stumbled over my daughter's foot smacked my entire face into an asphalt road.
"It was like you didn't even TRY to stop yourself," my daughter said, horrified. But the aching in my arms tells me that I did try, but couldn't do much to stop the force with with my body slammed down. Maybe I need to start doing pushups so my arms can do a better job protecting me the (seemingly inevitable) next time I take a tumble.
I took a selfie this morning, but I am not going to share it here. (You're welcome.) I skinned my chin and the tip of my nose, and somehow got a serious cut in the bridge of my nose. When I put a bandaid on, it feels like I'm wearing glasses. There's some swelling--my eyes have an interesting shape--but nothing too serious.
The bright side? We really needed a few groceries today. I was not feeling up to dealing with people doing double takes, no doubt wondering if my husband is abusive (he's not) or if I'm a drunk (I'm not), so I drove my 11 year old to the store and she headed in with a shopping list and some cash. She asked to go to the store that has self-checkout, because she was too shy to deal with a clerk directly, but other than that, she had a great time. "I got whole wheat bread, because it's good for you," she informed me seriously as we unpacked back at home. "And the tangerines were two dollars more per pound than the regular oranges, so I got the regular ones, because that 's a LOT." Such a careful shopper.
I tasked her with buying ice cream too, and she loved having control over that choice, picking chocolate truffle ice cream. She did things differently than I would have (getting two small sacks of sugar instead of one big one; buying fancy ice cream but cheap bread), but I know better than to criticize or correct. It was great seeing her confidence as well as her pride in helping me out.
It helps balance out the blow to my own pride.