I’ve broken my toe. In my post night shift hangover, the wall jumped out and bit me while I was
dragging taking Hurricane Boy to his bed room for a nap. Needless to say the nap never happened. I hear you say “owie!” And “poor thing”, but hold onto your sympathy till the end peeps, it just gets better.
This week I worked Thursday and Friday nights, 7 pm to 7.30 am. 12 hrs in an Emergency department. It’s really not as bad as it sounds.
After a long Thursday night I walk back to my car to find that I’m “parked in”. You can imagine my enthusiasm for the situation. I’ve just worked 12 hours, I’m tired, I have a 45 minute drive ahead of me and I have to get home to get a toddler to school. I finally get out with the help of our trusty security guard, the drive home takes forever as I get stuck in every school zone and red light. I finally make it home safely, send Hurricane Boy to school and Mr Giggles spends the day with Nanny. I sleep and then head back out.
Friday at work is no worse than any other Friday night. Busy to begin with, settled eventually, a few sick patients but otherwise nothing too horrible. The drive home is un-eventful and I manage to get a few hours sleep in the morning while Handy Hubby supervises the boys.
When I wake up WWIII has started. Hurricane Boy is having melt down after meltdown. He finally calms down(ish) and we head for his room for a nap. I walked into the edge of the wall and know instantly I’ve broken my toe. It swells, I can’t move it and has now developed a lovely shade of purple.
Handy Hubby then heads off to the shops, I decide to fill the sink and let the dishes “soak”, Hurricane boy points out that the sink is over flowing. I’m now faced with a kitchen that is flooding, a broken toe, a toddler attempting to “swim” in the flooding kitchen and a crawling infant who has discovered mummy’s can of coke that was sitting on the floor. Did I mention this was all happening during “The Witching Hour”?!
The boys have now gone to sleep, I’m still faced with a sink full of dirty dishes, toys strewn throughout the house, an aching and discoloured toe and the wine I’m drinking (Thanks to Handy hubby) is making me sleepy, not killing my pain.
Shall we just chalk today up to experience? Should I just be thankful that we are all still alive?