Oy! My Mommy Legs
Ok, it's kind of a two-post kind of day. This is what happens when you have a very long day. I'm like, did I or did I not blog today? Was that yesterday, or was that only a few hours ago? Anyway. Here I am.
My legs! My legs! I have Mommy Legs. Oy.
It's really someone else's fault that I noticed my legs in the first place. Generally, I'm too busy gazing at my navel to notice my legs. That's a joke. Hardy-har-har.
One of my friends is having a book launch next week because she has written a book and it's going to be published (I'll write more about this book later, because it is really, really good and deserves its own post and for people to go on Amazon and buy it.)
Anyhoo, we were talking about my friend's launch, which I will be attending, and I said something like, "Oh, I just want to look good at your launch," or, "What should I wear?" or, "I've gained too much weight this winter to wear anything sexy," or something very-girly like which you can only say to your closest friends.
Her answer was, "I think you should wear a mini skirt with heels." I don't know why, but as soon as she said "mini skirt" I looked down at my legs and, no joke, I had to turn away. (It's also weird that she suggested I wear a mini-skirt, considering I've known her for 8 years and never once have worn a mini-skirt in front of her.)
I'm not talking about veins here, although I do have one or two or three or four of those (just another wonderful aftermath of pregnancy.) There are, no joke, 15 bruises and/or scratches on my legs. A six year-old girl, at a bug infested summer camp, learning to roller skate, has nicer legs than I do at this moment.
My legs are definitely Mommy Legs. Four days ago, at Neiman Marcus (Neiman Mark-up) The Dictator thought it would be super fun to push the stroller into my legs. She did this about 18 times. No, it wasn't cool, but every time she drove that stroller into my legs, I'd pretend that I was majorly hurt and that would make her giggle. It didn't really hurt at all.
And I kind of love to hear The Dictator giggle. In fact, I'd do almost anything to hear her laugh, including letting her ram a stroller into my legs. Which is why my legs now look like a joke (What's black and blue all over?)
Also, I still haven't recovered from the two slips of January 2006. I think I may be permantly bruised. Is that possible?
The first fall was at the children's pool at The Four Seasons in Maui, where I slipped on the stone pavement around the pool. I meant to tell the management about it, but I forgot. The bruise was so big and so disgusting on my upper thigh, people would come up to me and say, "Ooooooh. What happened?"
The second fall of January 2006 was the night we arrived home from Maui and I slipped, holding The Dictator, on the ice on our driveway. In order to protect The Dictator, I managed to fall on my left leg and she landed on top of me. I still sometimes limp from that fall.
And then there are the million times a day I'm running to rescue The Dictator from almost-falls, and almost-spills, when all I do is end up hurting myself, banging my legs on tables and coffee tables and stupid baby gates. Has anyone else tripped on Jumbo size Lego, or is it just me?
In fact, I really think I need to be child-proofed. I basically need a child-proof gate around my body to make sure I don't injure myself.
I won't be wearing a mini-skirt in the next few weeks, if ever again. No, I definitely have pants-only legs now, thanks to The Dictator. Oy.