I just fell down the stairs. Don't be alarmed, if anyone is really reading this. I have done this about two or three times a year since we moved to a house with stairs. The first time I fell was when I was pregnant with Madalyn. Isn't that lovely? Just stepped wrong going down and down I went. You don't really think about it until it happens to you, but it is not that difficult to fall down stairs. I don't find any difficulty in doing it, that's for sure.
So today, I happened to be toting the vacuum cleaner in my left hand. I still can't tell you exactly how it happened, but there I went and I landed on my right side, like the ribcage area. And somehow hit my foot on the vacuum cleaner simultaneously. What skill and grace! As soon as I hit, I started crying. And then it went into one of those weepy cries. And the kids were just standing there looking at me. David kept asking what happened and I really couldn't get it out for all the weeping. And Madalyn just said, "You hurt you foot?" And they just watched over me as I cried and as soon as the tears subsided, they went about their business. It felt good to cry - not to fall, but to cry. Really cry. Just to get out some frustration and built up tension and worry that has seemed to consume me the past couple of weeks. I don't think you realize how bad you need a good cry until you have it. No matter what brings it on. But now I am exhausted and I think I will try to just lie down for a while and quiet my mind. If that is at all possible in a house with two kids and four TV's. On another day, I'll have to share my phone call I received last night from the credit card company. I had a good cry then, too. No wonder why I feel so exhausted.