So yesterday I had it all together. I laid Dekker down for his morning nap and took a shower and blew dry my hair. When he got up I put him in the bath and we played. Then I let him play while I put on make-up and straightened my hair. This was a good idea...it was great. I even put on eye make-up. Super big deal. I put on a new shirt and sweater thing that I had gotten Tuesday at Ann Taylor Loft 40% off clearance. And I put on my favorite Big Star jeans and the cute wedge sandals I got last year for my birthday in November (also on clearance). I found two necklaces (one short and one long) and matching earrings.
I went downstairs and said to Dave, "I feel good today. I feel like I am wearing clothes that fit and flatter my (new) body. " I went on to say how happy I was that my pediatrician would see me in something other than my pajamas after being up all night. Thankfully, I wasn't tearful, exhausted, etc. This was a new look for me and sweet Dr. Walters.
Anyway, the appt was good, lunch was good, nap was good. I decided to stretch the limits on the day and take a quick trip to Kohls to exchange some birthday gifts. Dekker was super fussy, and after getting shots I wasn't totally surprised. So I was quick about things.
On the way out of the store, I grabbed my adorable little BOY in one arm and my purse and bag in the other and strutted out the door in all my feeling good-ness-- jewelry and eye make-up and all. I didn't see the faded orange markings that warned me of the shifting sidewalk, and I was on the ground! I felt myself falling... I actually thought I was going to break my ankle because I felt my foot turn under the shoe and I knew a lot of weight was getting put on it, but there was little I could do to help myself because I was worried about sending Dekker across the pavement. I kinda stumbled twice, then hit the ground. Some man saw the whole thing. He comes running over and asks if I'm okay. As he tries to help me up I realized that my jeans had totally ripped in the knee. (I mean I wear them so much they were pretty thin.) AND, my knee was super scraped and bleeding. So the man sticks out his hand and I say "My jeans are ripped." Hahaha. Priorities! I was more embarrassed than anything.
Here is a picture of my knee. Dave made fun of me for taking a picture. He was harassing me and I was like, "Dave, the 9 people who read my blog will want to see this."
We made it to the car, I got Dekker strapped in, and I just kinda sat there. I called Dave. I was actually pretty sore. I am sore. But I will survive. I contemplated saving the jeans-- a patch maybe? capri's maybe? But they are gone. I am thinking I might go buy a new pair, I loved them that much.
Do you see them in the trash can? So sad. Also got harassed about taking this photo, if you can imagine! (Nothing like a good Fresca and banana.)
Have a safe day!
On the journey,