Here's the backstory of why I've got a little more time than usual to sit and blog...
Two weeks ago I had a small mole removed from the bottom of my foot. Don't worry, I'm fine. The numbing of the bottom of my foot...big needle...numbing medication...arch of my foot...you get the picture...was the worst part. The recovery was a nuisance but not bad. I was going to be down for about two weeks and then back into my usual routine. It wasn't that bad. I had to slow down a bit, but I basically just had a little limp in my step and was well on my way to being back in action.
Fast forward to when I had to get just a "little bit" more taken off of my foot. Again, I'm fine. The pathology report showed no signs of anything serious, but there were some wonky cells and the doctors wanted a "clear margin" to rule out any future complications. Sooooo, I went back in with high anxiety not for the recovery but for the darn needle being stuck in my foot again! This time, I held on tight as I had the first time, and the doctor joked about sticking me twenty more times...then he said, just kidding, just two or three more...I'm sorry, WHAT!?!? The first time they only stuck me once. I tried not to panic and sat back with a not so convincing smile all while placing a death grip on the chair and sweating profusely. In all honesty, the second and third needles weren't nearly as bad as the first as some of the numbing medication was already hard at work. The cells were removed and I went on my merry way.
I had a little more trouble walking out of the office that day because my entire foot was numb. I should've guessed as much as they put in more numbing meds. That afternoon, I joked with my friends about not being able to feel a thing and worrying slightly about ripping a stitch...when they asked if I needed anything, my response was, again,"I'm fine." It wasn't until the middle of the night that I realized that I was not in fact fine and that this recovery was going to be a little more tricky than the last time. My foot was throbbing, and when I tried to get up the next morning to start my day, I found that I couldn't place any weight on my foot because it hurt so badly.
I only got myself into a slightly panicked state of mind...you know, I called my husband crying, saying, I'm fine but I don't know what to do. I called my friends to take my kids to school saying, it's fine if you can't, and texted a friend who had foot surgery a while back to see if I could borrow her crutches...it's fine if you don't have them, I can figure it out. Thankfully, everyone swooped into action. As the morning went on, I realized that I was not at all prepared for not being able to use my foot...and that I had no idea how hard navigating the day could be on crutches. I called my sister and she immediately offered to come help out. She asked if I needed her to come...I replied, well, I'm fine...I don't necessarily "need" you, but I could definitely use some help. THAT WAS A COMPLETE LIE! What was i thinking?!?! I definitely needed her...I'm not fine! I couldn't carry a coffee cup or a cup of water from my kitchen to the couch on crutches, I couldn't walk up the stairs to help get my kids ready for school, I couldn't walk to the bathroom, I couldn't bathe for goodness sakes! Thankfully, she paid no attention to my prideful response, packed her bag, and headed up later that day.
I have realized this past week that I place way too much emphasis on "being fine" every day rather than being honest with what I might need. Since I have admitted that I need help, my house has run pretty smoothly with my being somewhat out of commission. My sister and husband got us through the weekend. My sister had my fridge stocked, birthday presents bought, and meals prepared (thanks parents) to help get the week off on the right track. My kids are old enough to help with the laundry and the dishes. My husband is more than capable of handling the children and their needs when he gets home from a long day...and also has filled in on all of the grocery shopping, meal preparing, cleaning, etc. My friends have stepped in with meals and rides and childcare. All the while, I have sat on my couch recovering...and also feeling guilty that I'm not the one taking care of everyone and everything...because "I'm fine."
But, I haven't been "fine." I'm not at my tip top shape. I'm not able to do everything that I want to do. I'm not able to fulfill my "job" of being a mom. I can't walk...for the love! I will be fine, this is a small blip on the radar, but I have needed help. So, now, I'm changing my tune from "I'm fine." to "Thank you." Thank you for giving me the time to rest. Thank you for taking my children for the afternoon. Thank you for going to the grocery store for me. Thank you for dinner. Thank you for the crutches. Thank you for taking my boys to lacrosse and birthday parties. Thank you for taking my girl to tennis, gymnastics, ballet. Thank you for driving my children to and from school. Thank you for picking up forms from school. Thank you for stopping by. Thank you for knowing what I need even when I don't. Thank you for taking care of me and my people. Thank you for being you.
Let's all make a pact to let each other know when we're not "fine," ok? I promise it makes life a whole lot easier to swallow your pride (one of the hardest things to do) and let people in on what's going on. To be honest with your friends and also with yourself is easier said than done, but I promise it's worth it.
I hope you'll enjoy the new face of the blog, find some new recipes, revisit some old ones. Keep me posted on what you're doing out there. I'll be right here on my couch if you need me...and I will be just fine!
Happy Cooking!
