Because I am a clumsy idiot, we spent yesterday morning in the emergency room Instead of the super fun trip to the Seaport to celebrate the 4th of July. Everyone was dressed (not just dressed, FESTIVELY dressed) and fed and packed and the car was running with both kids already in their car seats when I stepped on my left foot wrong coming down the back steps and collapsed.

Something in my ankle went “POP”, a sound so sickening I got light-headed and saw stars.

“I think I’m going to pass out” I said to E.

Then I passed out.

I came to after less than 15 seconds, just in time to keep from peeing my pants. (For the record, I have low blood pressure, and there’s something about the shock of an injury – not the pain, just the IMAGINED AWFULNESS – that causes me to faint. It’s happened since I was a kid, at least 6 times that I can think of. Only once did I actually pee my pants.) E helped me hobble into the house and got me a bag of frozen peas before unpacking everyone from the car. I quickly realized that although my ankle wasn’t broken, it was a serious enough injury to warrant a quick trip to the hospital. Because it’s not like the 4th of July is a busy time for emergency rooms or anything. Especially when I can’t walk on my own so we get to bring BOTH kids, one if which just realized he was not going to see the HORSE! WATER! BOAT! he had been promised. Good times. So we packed everyone back INTO the car and drove up the street to the ER.

The wait was blessedly short and the kids were total angels for E while I lay on a gurney and winced every time anyone even glanced at my ankle, but the diagnosis wasn’t helpful. It’s not broken (bless grilled cheesus) but it’s a moderate sprain and I’m supposed to stay off it for at least a week and wear my air cast for a week past the point I can walk on it. If it’s not healed in a month I should call my doctor.

A MONTH. I’m supposed to sit on the couch, icing and elevating my ankle, taking it easy for a month. I barely made it through a DAY and that was with E home to bring me stuff (not to mention BlogHer is in a month and no matter how many rosettes I glue to my cast there is no way I want to wear it around San Diego).

But the more pressing problem is that E is working today and I am supposed to care for 2 kids without walking. It’s impossible. And I don’t just mean “wow, this is going to be hard.” I mean it is bordering on an unsafe situation to be injured badly enough that I can’t pick up the toddler and I literally couldn’t run to save our lives. I certainly wouldn’t leave my kids with someone ELSE in this state. But we don’t have childcare – or even a regular babysitter – so the best I can do is use my crutches for the urgent stuff, like feeding everyone and poop emergencies, and hope E can come home early from work.

On a more selfish note, I’m super annoyed I won’t be going to Stroller Strides or running or even doing yoga DVDs anytime soon, so my plan to lose weight is completely derailed. Sitting on the couch feeling sorry for myself sends me immediately into MUST EAT GIANT BAG OF CANDY RIGHT NAOW mode, and I’m pretty sure Weight Watchers doesn’t allow for a pound of chocolate caramels four times a week. But I guess the good part is we don’t HAVE any candy in the house and I’m too gimpy to go get any so unless I can bribe E into buying me some I’ll just be cranky and injured with my lentil salad and my carrot sticks.

Good times all around.

Update: After sleeping on it and letting some of the swelling go down, it feels like it’s not actually my ankle that’s hurt, but my foot. Which means as long as I walk on just my heel I can limp pretty well, but also means the ankle cast they sent me home with is basically useless. I’m going to just keep up the Motrin and the ice and praying most of the pain is gone by the weekend so I can get back to my life.

Because it is a Monday and it is not raining, I have exactly 90 minutes between the moment E walks in the door and the moment he leaves again for hockey practice. 90 glorious free minutes during which I can take a shower unassisted by a toddler (“Mama, BOOBS!”) or fold laundry using both arms or sweep the front porch without anyone running through the piles of dirt and tracking it straight into the house. 90 precious minutes to fit in all the chores and errands that are a struggle to do with two kids but should really be done sooner rather than later.

“I’m just going to run to the post office”, I said to E as I grabbed my keys. “Caroline just woke up so she probably needs a diaper [I throw a diaper and a clean outfit in his direction]. You don’t have to get her dressed though, if you want to give her some of this watermelon I cut up she’ll get all messy anyway. Just put her in the high chair. And there are apples in the bowl if you want to put some in her meshie, although it might be in the dishwasher but those dishes are clean so you could get it out.”

E looks up from the remote. “How long are you going to be GONE?”

And that, right there, is the cause of 99% of our fights. I think taking care of the babies is a full time, active job that involves fruits and vegetables and songs and flashcards and cute outfits and playgroups and tummy time. E thinks it involves making sure everyone is breathing and relatively non-poop encrusted.

In the end, we are both right. There are plenty of parenting moments that are nothing more than sitting on the floor with the kids, playing “how big is the baby?” or “where’s your belly button?” or “how hard can you whack daddy in the nuts while trying to climb on him?” But as the primary childcare provider*, more of my time is spent feeding, changing, dressing, rocking, nursing, chasing, holding, and disciplining children. My default mode is to PROVIDE.

So when I hand over the parenting reins for a few minutes I expect my husband to stay just as busy. No, Caroline isn’t going to STARVE if he doesn’t give her some watermelon during the twelve minutes I’m gone. But I was the parent who was home while E went to the post office, those are all the things I would have been doing. I feel like shared parenting means sharing all of it – not just the interesting parts. On the balance sheet of taking care of kids, he doesn’t get to cross of “get hugs” and “read books” while I’m stuck with “offer the baby eleven different foods to throw on the floor” and “let the toddler spit out the apple skin he refuses to swallow for the umpteenth time into your hand.”

But my parenting advice never goes over well and the more times I suggest – Honey you should…Honey why don’t…Honey I think… – the more annoyed E gets and, ironically, the less likely he is to pitch in. Not because he is spiteful and mean, but because who wants to keep doing something you are told over and over you are not good at? (I mean BESIDES blogging, because obviously no one can stop me from sucking up more than my share of the interwebs. I’m in yur bandwidth, writtin down mah rambling thoughts!)

We need to find a compromise that DOESN’T involve either of us threatening to move to Australia.

*And hey, who wants to talk about how totally messed up it is that childcare costs a frickin ZILLION DOLLARS, but watching one’s own children doesn’t count as a job? Oh, you don’t have time to discuss one of the most written about parts of motherhood ever? How about just an Amen?

At this point, I’ve talking about the NEW PATIO and the BIG REVEAL so many times I’m afraid this is going to be sort of a let down to everyone expecting a Yard Crashers style makeover complete with water feature and hot tub and 12-foot fireplace. It is not that crazy. BUT. If you consider this was all done in 1 week by hand by two guys, two women and a toddler, THEN it is impressive. Two guys, two women and a toddler, who, I might add, have never built a patio before. Now you can be impressed.

One more time, BEFORE:

AFTER:

BEFORE:

AFTER:

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Good changes, yes?

The rock wall for the side garden is built out of the flagstone that used to be in our walkways. All the plants in this garden were transplanted – either from my own garden or from my friend Merin’s. The lights closest to the ground are actually solar powered. The lanterns on the poles are for candles – you put these little blue things in the top and they’re supposed to repel bugs (I think the definitely help).

Dining table from Walmart, dishes/glasses from Target. The adorable “floating” shelf was the result of a joint brainstorming session, where E and I decided we needed a buffet for dinner parties. E made it out of scrap wood from our basement and attached it to the fence with chain I spray painted green. Then I used some tape and 3 more cans of spray paint to make the design. It folds up flat against the neighbor’s our fence when we’re not using it and can easily be removed and stored in the winter. Roses & hydrangeas are from my garden, displayed in tin cans (spray painted of course).

Seating set, end tables & throw pillows from Target, firepit from Home Depot. Throw blanket is from Pier 1. Flower pots are from various places (including some I already owned & spray painted). Tray (that I spray painted) and mugs are from Goodwill. See that dark purple vine in the blue pot? It’s called “Sweet Caroline”.

Did you enjoy my attempt at a Martha Stewart worthy photo shoot? It’s been pouring rain for two days so everything is sort of damp and grey but it still looks pretty good. For a little reality check, here’s the patio during dinner on Sunday night:

And now for my absolute favorite part of the patio: nighttime.

String lights are from Target and plug into a super handy outlet right inside the garage window. The fire pit actually gives off enough heat to make a cool night comfortable and is PERFECT for s’mores making.

Showing my appreciation for all E's amazingly hard work

In case you were wondering, the total costs of the project were:

$2016.26 for the patio itself, including all the supplies, tools, stone, sand, gravel and plate compactor rental. (Not included: lots of pizza for the workers).

$1841.77 for EVERYTHING else, from the furniture and pillows down to the candles and plants.

Grand total: $3858.03.

We estimate that if we’d hired someone to do all the work for us, the labor and material total (not counting any of the decor or furniture) would have been at least $8,000. It was a LOT of digging.

Special thanks to my mom and dad who did at least 50% of the work on this and only had one night to enjoy it. I can’t wait until they come back again for more s’mores and wine on the patio.

Edited to add: You can see the much less glamorous doing-the-work photos and information here.

Every summer Connecticut has an “Open House Day” where tons of parks and sites across the state waive their entrance fees. And every single year I see the signs start to go up in town (there’s a historic home turned museum I drive past at least twice a day) and I think “Oh that will be FUN. Let’s go somewhere! It’s free! I like history!” And then every year on the Sunday AFTER Open House Day I think “Crap. Well, sitting on the couch was nice, too.”

But this year I marked my calendar set up a reminder in my iPhone, gave E a 24 hour warning that Saturday was a GO PLACES day, Google-mapped our route (turn right on Roue 85, drive straight for 40 minutes, turn left into parking area) and off we went to Gillette Castle.

I’ll spare you a history lesson on the castle, but Wikipedia can help you out here and here if you’re interested. Let me just say NONE of these pictures really do justice to how cool it is in person.

There are 47 wooden doors like this in the castle and they are all different. The design up the center is really part of a giant lock. Even the light switches and widow hinges were made of wood like this.

Despite being a successful actor and a brilliant inventor, Gillette was the early 1900’s version of a crazy cat lady. He built in spots for them to lounge, installed chicken wire under his furniture so the cats didn’t accidentally burn themselves on the radiators, and collected tons of tiny cat figurines. I’m guessing if he was alive today he’d be a regular contributor to I Can Has Cheezburger.

On Caroline:

Onesie – Carter’s
Leggings with attached skirt – Hand me down, tag missing

On Little Evan:

Shirt – Hand me down (it says “My grandparents don’t spoil me, they’re just very accommodating”
Jeans – Target
Sandals – Old Navy

On Mama:

Shoes – Target
Jeans – Old Navy
Shirt – Old Navy
Shrug – handknit by me
Earrings – BailyBelle on Etsy

A closer look at the cute leather earrings, although it looks like she doesn’t have them in the shop anymore:

And one more pic of my husband, since I can’t seem to post enough of those.