An emergent situation.

So how was your Memorial Day, lovelies? Ours had all the makings of a fun and relaxing Monday. Here's how it started:

Peaceful, right? We were at Joe's friend Scott's place for the day...looking forward to boat rides, swimming and a cookout. From that dock, Alex ran all the way up to the house, SO excited to tell us about the fish he saw. And then he tripped on the sidewalk and went face first into the very unforgiving cement edge of the first step.

I'll spare you the photos of the wound, because ewwww they are mega gross (text me if you really want to see them), but suffice it to say we spent the first half of the day in Urgent Care and the second half in the ER. (Urgent Care was closest to the lake house, and they suggested we go to the hospital for a CT scan, but once there, it was suggested we opt not to expose his little body to that much radiation when he wasn't exhibiting any signs of brain damage. Was still a valuable trip, though, because the  ER docs took out the glue the Urgent Care docs used and stitched him up, instead. Hopefully that will lessen what's sure to be a pretty badass scar.) It might also be worth noting that I spent the day pretty much covered in blood, but I'm super proud of my Betty Homemaker skills because that brand new white shirt I opted to wear for the holiday? You'd never know it spent the day as a replacement for gauze. Bleach ninja, right here.

We never did get that boat ride. Or the swimming. But we are so thankful that our boy is on the mend and that it wasn't worse.

It's working.

I've wanted to type an update on my progress with the Barre classes, but honestly, my arms have been too sore to pick up my children, let alone go to town on the keyboard.

What I'm saying is that they're working and doing exactly what they're supposed to do. But can the pathetic part of me just whine in the corner and say "ouch" for a minute? I'm definitely seeing (and feeling!) some great results. I can't really stress enough how equally important the verbal motivation of the instructors is to the routines of the classes themselves. Yes, we do arm combinations until I can't feel my hands; and yes, my legs shake so hard during the lower body sequence that I sometimes think I will fall over; and yes, I can only press my navel to my spine in the plank position so many times before I realize it's not actually possible...but more than all that--the sweat, the shakes, the soreness--is that I'm getting stronger. The instructors are great about reminding you why you're there. That you chose to walk through those doors. I need that reminder, sometimes...don't we all? So I choose to use the hour to thank my body for all it does for me by making it stronger. And I'm proud to say I'm getting there!

And...more good news: if you're out there reading and still want to try Barre Bee, here's your chance! Barre Bee Fit recently established a standing partnership with Athleta at The Somerset Collection in Troy and will be hosting a free in-store class once a month! The first class is on March 16 at 11 AM. Check out their Facebook page for more information.

On why babies are the meanest.

Contractions all night on Friday.

But, you know, they were the "fake" ones. AS IF THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.

Also my pelvis is pretty much shattered by now.

I pee more than might actually be humanly possible. Someone at a University should study me.

I'm starving 24/7. This is actually not much different when I''m not pregnant, so make the connection however you see fit.

Sleeping is a real pain in my ass.

C'mon, little girl. Let's do this.

Make mine a triple.

So I've had what can only be described as the world's loudest Superbowl Halftime show/Monster Truck Jam/any Russel Crowe movie that involves lots of fighting/swords and very little hygiene stomping through my skull since....oh, Thursday.

It is the living worst.

And I REFUSE to be a person who gets migraines. I simply refuse. I've tried everything from chiropractic to inexplicable doses of caffeine to sinus meds to massage and nothing makes the pulsating in my eyeballs go away. In what can only be described as my greatest move of desperation, I also went to the hippie dark side and had Joe rub lemongrass oil on me. The result? I smelled like Pledge and still had a headache. So that was helpful.

I'm giving my beloved chiropractor two more days, and then I'm seeing a "real" doctor. I'm sure she'll only want to medicate me and not actually find the source of the problem, which is very uncool. But I will not say no to some Valium, let's be clear on that.

And because you read the above and wasted 3-5 minutes of your life depending on your reading level, here's what you really come here for:

And also, this:

I get the message, mall marketing people. I really do. But if you're specifically catering to young people, you can't use double entendres. You just can't.

Call me Grace.

Mothertrucker.

I fell at work yesterday. I'd like to say that I have some herioc tale of search and rescue--that some rare breed of baby koala was trapped in a tree and I scaled a building wearing nothing but a lace bra and some water shoes to save its nearly-extinct life, but the real version isn't that glamorous. I fell in the loo. Slipped on a little puddle of water by the sink.

I am stupid. And OUCH.