Well, we stayed at DD30’s last night ’til about 10:00 because little Morgan’s hand was swelling a bit, and the cast seemed like it was cutting in a bit too much around the base of her thumb. So, we were keeping it propped up, and encouraging her to wiggle her fingers about to keep the circulation moving. Called the doc, who said bring her in in the AM (this morning - I’m still waiting to hear how that went). I have to say that watching MY daughter with her child - how very much she loves that little girl - how much we all love our children, and how that’s what makes it possible for us all to survive and grow in the world, gave me one of those “lightbulb flash” moments when suddenly, you see a bigger picture, if only for a few seconds in time. I mean, we all KNOW that mothers are programmed - designed by nature - to love and protect their offspring; we know that it’s about the survival of the species, and yet observing it up close in your own child as she passes what she’s received along to her own child just somehow makes me feel a part of something so much greater - a long, long line of mothers loving and nurturing their children since the dawn of time.

At any rate, we now settle in to see if this arm of Morgan’s is going to heal straight enough, or if she’s going to need surgery. I guess we’ll know that in another six days or so, unless I’ve got it wrong. I most humbly thank you all for your expressions of concern and caring; I am so frequently reminded, when communicating here at our blog-place, of each of you as a precious jewel in that great net of jewels that comprises the universe.

And now we’ll move on to lower moral ground as I kvetch about my daughter’s Mother-in-law, I swear a more spoiled, selfish and lazy good-for-nothing woman has never walked the earth. I may have mentioned that I brought the pasta over to DD’s last night for everyone’s supper, and some fresh Italian bread and spinach, which DH & I enjoy having with - and mixing into - our pasta. I know that everybody isn’t crazy about spinach, so I keep it separate and let people help themselves. So, DD’s father-in-law is always happy to come to family dinners and cook-outs and such, because his wife doesn’t cook, and when she does, it’s a tad uninspred, to say the least. So, they arrived from Connecticut just as we were serving dinner, which was perfectly fine, because there was an abundance of food, and we could’ve undoubtedly served four or five more people, had four or five more people happened by.

So, the Mother-in-law - let’s call her “J” - came in the door first, saw me putting plates on the table, and said in a quasi-joking voice (one of those tones where you KNOW they’re dead serious, but trying to pass it off as humorous) “Oh, WE picked a bad time to come, then, didn’t we?” (This said while looking directly at me).  I’m afraid I didn’t quite “get” what she was saying at first, and said “Oh, Hi, “J” - HUH?????” Then, of course, I said, “Oh, no. You picked a GOOD time to come, actually. We’re just about to have some dinner. Sit down and join us”. Her husband grabbed himself a chair and was practically salvating in anticipation, and I really and truly thought “J” would’ve slit his throat if she could’ve put her hands on a knife. She gave me a look so thunderous that I could barely keep from laughing - and said “Oh, no, not me. My stomach is a little upset, but I’m sure “P” will eat his and mine too…” Grrrrrrrrrr!!!!!! Omigawd. I absolutely know that this isn’t coming across nearly as comical as it really was, but she is just so fierce about other people doing things that she simply does NOT do that I don’t know why she doesn’t just break down and learn to do them herself.

Oh, the best part was when I asked who wanted spinach, the father-in-law said “I do!” and I put the penne pasta on his plate with a nest of spinach in the center and grated parmesan on top of the spinach. My son-in-law said, “OMIGOSH! Somebody call the cooking channel! Take pictures! His mother made an ostentatious exit into the den, saying her stomach just couldn’t “take” such Christmasy-looking food (red pasta sauce & green spinach, Oh my!)

Life is a constant source of amusement, isn’t it? Even at the worst of times.

So. Now I am home. I started this earlier today while at work. My daughter called in tears. They had to split Morgan’s cast - it was too tight, and there was a hard, scratchy, lumpy piece sticking into the base of her thumb in underneath where it wasn’t at all visible looking at it from the outside. Her skin was scraped and raw. So much for the damned “specialists” - the guy who fitted her cast was supposedly the best orthopedist or whatever-the-hell-he-was in the state. So, they jostled her arm about considerably getting the cast split and trimmed, and she was apparently screaming in pain; my DD had to leave the room because she just couldn’t handle it. Poor thing was up all night long checking on Morgan, and of course at the hospital the previous night. I doubt she’s had much more than a half hour’s rest, just out of fear that she’d go to sleep and Morgan’s hand would swell up and stop her circulation. And of course she’s not going to rest until she feels that Morgan’s out of the woods - I left work and went to them, but DD wouldn’t lie down even with me there to watch Morgan. I know, of course, how she feels. I guess all of who have had children injured or ill know what it’s like. But Morgan seems better - her hand is warm and she’s able to wiggle all of her fingers, and the color is good. So, I hope tonight is easier for DD. I provided a little relief, I hope - brought Morgan some books and a little “Burt’s Bees” bag with lip glosses and body lotions and hand salves and what have you. Also some different colored nail polishes and nail polish remover. I recently painted my toenails in order to wear some sandals when it was warm last week (Needless to say, I haven’t worn any this week with all the rain and cold…) and Morgan wanted hers done. So when I was there today, we painted her toenails in a lovely rainbow of colors - pink, purple, green and gold. She was very happy. Morgan and I also made a very pretty beaded bracelet that she was wearing when I left. She seemed to be doing pretty well when I left at 6:30.

Well, I’m exhausted. I guess I will definitely get myself off to bed early tonight, provided DD doesn’t need me over there. I had leftover pasta for supper when I got home (third night - what’s left is goingdown the garbage disposal tomorrow) and it was good not having to cook.

I think I’m getting thinner. My pants were pretty baggy this morning, and they’re the ones that have been too snug up until now. Maybe I can weigh myself sometime soon. I just don’t want to weigh myself and find that I’m heavier than I think I am, and get discouraged. I don’t think I will, but I find that I’m still afraid of the damned scale, anyway.

DH is getting on my nerves. Not his fault, but tonight is one of those times when I just want to be left alone, and wish he would just shut up. I really don’t care about Bush’s low approval rating or anything else at the moment. I especially don’t care about stupid Barbara Walters, and am not the slightest bit curious about what Oprah could be thinking to have such foolishness on her show. The few times that I’ve actually caught her show I’ve noticed that it’s not exactly aimed at the most intelligent audience by a long shot.

Blah.

Time for me to take my irritable self to bed.

Hugs, lovely people,

Z