One of the first things that I had to do today was a mini-physical to prove that I’m not on death’s doorstep before my insurance company would let me make some changes to my life insurance.
After years of honor rolls, scholarships, and honor societies, I finally managed to fail a test miserably. How embarrassing that it was a pee test.
No, not like that! Oh my gosh, or that, either!
No, I’m not going to show anything harder than thyroid medication in my results. And I don’t think they even test for pregnancy on those things. Although, that would certainly be an interesting phone call: “We’re sorry, Mrs. _____, but we’re going to have to rate you up due to the fact that you are pregnant with your fifth child. Obviously, you understand, since this is a sure sign that you will die prematurely–either from a heart attack, a brain aneurysm, or suicide.” No, no positive pregnancy results to report.
My failure was *ahem* to provide something worth testing. There are few things more embarrassing than making someone drive back to your house a second time just so you can pee in a cup. In the two hours between visits, I drank water, milk, juice, soda, more juice, and a bit more soda. What can I say, I always did well with cramming.
As if my inability to perform simple bodily functions wasn’t enough, I discovered a hole in my jeans this morning. Sadly, I must admit that because of my denial over having not lost all of my baby weight yet, I only have one pair of jeans that really fits me. I live in them (yes, I wash them regularly). However, as I put them on this morning, I discovered that they had finally given in to the friction of my thighs rubbing together. Yeah, that does a lot to boost a girl’s self esteem. Bereft of decent pants and the last shreds of my dignity, I had to make an emergency trip to the store to buy new jeans.
On my sister’s advice, I went to the mega-store where I also buy my groceries, since she insisted that they have some pretty decent jeans there. I asked my mom to come along, since no one wants to try on clothes with four small children in tow. N~, realizing that this presented an opportunity, begged me all the way to the store to get the special carts that are shaped like cars and have TV screens in them. I decided to give it a try.
What’s that saying about no good deed going unpunished?
For the next hour, I endured a constant stream of, “I don’t have enough room for my legs! Hey! Why is W’s TV playing Dora, but mines playing–what is this again? Barney? I don’t like Barney! Make mine play Dora!” This went on until W’s TV suddenly stopped working, at which point it changed to, “Why won’t mine work? It’s not fair! N’s still watching TV! This is boring. I think that my legs need exercise! Let me out of this thing!” The people who came up with these carts obviously knew what they were doing, as the doors into the car lock from the outside.
Incidentally, I got a size smaller jeans than I had been wearing before. Who knew that thigh friction could have a silver lining? (My physical this morning revealed that I have lost a few pounds since the last time I weighed myself, which is great since I haven’t exercised in months and get the shakes if I don’t have a regular stream of the white stuff–sugar.)
This evening, all of our youth at church had a combined activity where they played human foosball (I’ll give you a moment to try and process that concept). At the beginning, we were only allowed to face one direction while running back and forth on our lines, and we had one ball in play. You’ve never seen a soccer-ish game with around 50 people that was so amazingly slow. We wised up, started letting the players turn, and got 2-3 balls in play. Then it got fun. Fun enough, unfortunately, that some of our girls and leaders may be sporting concealer to hide black eyes. Plenty of boys got hit in the back of the head, but only the girls seemed to take balls to the face. I may have come out with some bruises on my legs, but that’s it.
I couldn’t tell you the last time I did some sort of organized sports/game like this. Our kids do it a few times a year, but for as long as I have been working with them, I have either been pregnant or toting a baby around. This was the first time that I didn’t have E~ with me for one of these activities. It was interesting to see how much something like that brings the real me out.
Don’t worry, I fought it.
I stood there, making an effort to shout encouragement to the most timid players whenever they even looked at the ball, and telling kids what a great job they were doing no matter which team they were on. But, as we went to sudden death as time wound down and the score was tied, I realized that if I were out there with my peers instead of kids that I’m suppose to be supporting, well, it may have been ugly. I’m just a tad competitive. Which sucks, since I’m not all that impressively athletic.
In the end, I think that the kids had a great time. I know I enjoyed it. And, yes, my team won. 😉
Today, I am Thankful For:
The great teachers that my kids have at church. Yesterday, N~ told me, “W~ and I said a prayer together before we got out of bed this morning, just like Sis. S~ told W~ we should.” How awesome is that?
Not being cynical enough to have written Wall-E. Because I’m sick of hearing that humans are so lazy and irresponsible that we are going to destroy the earth because it is so important to us to use plastic cups and get around using some fuel-consuming mode of transportation that eliminates our ability to stand on our own two morbidly obese feet (thus says the woman who schleps canvas bags to the grocery store every time she buys food). Maybe it has a better message by the end. I don’t know. I couldn’t stomach it that far.
Having lost a few pounds. Because, honestly? I was sure that I had been gaining weight recently. There may be hope for me, yet.
Getting to run around and be silly with teenagers this evening. I would claim that it made me feel like a kid again, but it is amazing how those little aches and pains keep you from becoming too delusional.
Two pillows, three blankets, a space heater and a microwavable teddy bear. All of which are calling my very sleepy name.