I think I've broken my toe.
Let the showers of sympathy commence.
I slammed my foot into the base of a stationary bike. It made a lovely crunch/pop sound that I can't get out of my head. I iced it for an hour (with our boo boo piggy) and when I went to put piggy back in the freezer, I stubbed those same toes into a step stool.
I've given birth to two children and this pain was...well, it wasn't as bad as that. But it really hurt. I couldn't sleep it hurt so much. So I was downstairs in the middle of the night to get some Motrin, and I tripped over my husband's big 'ole sneaker, which he had left right in the middle of the floor. More pain.
So, as I said, let the sympathy commence.
My husband was sweet today. My daughter is at summer day camp at school this week, so it's just me and my son at home. My husband came home for an hour, took care of our boy and put him down for a nap so I could catch some sleep myself.
This is all I have to talk about today. I'm going to take it as a good sign that there are times in my life when my biggest problem is a stubbed toe.
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