It's Day 9

...of Darron's recovering from ankle surgery and things are NOT going according to plan.

First of all there is absolutely no romantic spooning on the couch while we share intimate secrets and discuss religious philosophy because a) he's high on percocet, b) and itchy, and c) I've got things to do. If you are sensing irritation, that's so weird because Darron said the exact same thing.

We did balance the checkbook. So there's that.

Also in my plan, the house was really clean. Clean and serene. Just how we like it. That's generally part of every plan of mine. I'm like joyfully cleaning the bathrooms and it's all sparkly and bright everywhere and smells nice. Not like stale cumin and wet rags.

We've been watching "Arrested Development" on Netflix six years after the rest of you which I find hilarious and Darron finds a little too "strumming my pain with his fingers" if you know what I mean. You don't? Good. We'll leave it at that then. I no longer attack people on my blog. Just make cryptic passive-agressive references.


I've never been one for sympathy when others are sick. I mean, I think its a good idea-sympathy-I just don't personally possess much myself. I can take care of someone for about two hours, then I start to get snippy and all put-upon. I have a hard time with needy people. And yes, I realize I am a mother and that that is ironic. You got me, Universe. Darron knows this about me because I really don't hide it. He's been freaked out about me thinking he is going to be a wimp through all this so he's all like hobbling around with his big bulky man crutches and 24 lb cast dizzy and nauseated trying to fix himself a poor little bowl of cereal because he doesn't want me to think he's a sissy and then I jump up to help, but it's really less of a jump and more of a reluctant slide turned peppy at the end when I realize my cold dead heart is showing.

Halle turned eight today. On to other things. She is so sweet. We took some of her friends out to a movie and treat and shopped for a baptism dress. I'm sure I'll write a baptism post when the time comes where I can gush about her a little.

Does having a sweet, kind-hearted daughter redeem me? I hope.