What we've been up to!

Let's see...



On March 13, my "baby" cousin B married his sweetheart, W. This was emotional for me. B is the second baby in our family that I remember being born (he is 4 years younger than I am, and is preceeded only by another cousin of ours who was born not quite 2 months before him). This was the first time I could say, "I remember the day he was born -- and now he's getting married!" The wedding was beautiful. They truly were a couple brought together by God, and you could feel His spirit there as they said their vows (I'm not sure if they would want their pictures broadcast on my blog -- so you'll have to settle for a picture of their cake, which, by the way -- was made by her mother, and was vanilla, chocolate, and red velvet -- at least, I THINK it was those flavors. It was delicious! And his "grooms cake" was tiny wine glasses of banana pudding!)


Then....on the 18th, I fell over Sara's Tinkerbell magic wand and jacked my foot ALL up. I seriously thought I had broken it and was dying. Picture this: (doesn't that bring back Golden Girls memories?!) Sara was down for her nap, I'm home alone, Michael has the car. I fall, feel AND hear my ankle snap. Instant pain, anyone? In my all-so-dramatic state of pain and shock, I couldn't remember where I had laid the phone....however, I had just logged off of a FB chat with Michael. So, what's a 5-months pregnant girl to do? I army-crawled across the living room floor, dragging my lame leg behind me (I refused to even look at my foot because I was convinced a bone would be poking out of my skin), logged into FB and luckily...it showed Michael as still logged in. I sent a message saying, "911! Come home NOW!" and 2 seconds later he called. Oh...by the way? The phone was 2 feet from me underneath the couch pillow I had thrown down when I fell. He hadn't gotten my message as he was out to lunch, but somehow he understand what I was trying to say through my tears and hiccuping (something about..."OH GOD, my bone is broke in half! Please help me!" nothing serious, you know. ;)

So after an 8-hour stint in the Army ER, a few x-rays, a set of crutches and an Ace bandage later -- it's just a bad sprain, but it still does hurt like the devil, even a week later. And hey, if you've ever wondered what a pregnant girl on crutches looks like? It ain't pretty.