BMS

BMS stand for Battered Mom Syndrome (aka clutz.) I wonder how long it will be before someone asks if my husband is beating me. Although, if they truly knew me, they would know that's not the case. It's amazing that I was ever able to tour with Disney on Ice and live to tell about it!

On Monday morning I was standing by Leigha's door waiting for her to sit down so I could buckle her in. I had my hand leaning on the frame between my front door and the sliding door. Knowing that I have had problems with the door slamming shut, I should have known better. The door slammed, my watch broke off and flew, and I told my daughter that Mom would be right back. This is what it looks like a week later:


Fast forward to Friday night. We have a play yard gate that is tucked behind a dresser and a coffee table to keep the boys contained. I had just dialed Laura and was climbing over the fence, as I always do, and something got caught. I did a 360 degree turn and fell through the gate backwards. I cracked the one panel and popped it right off. Unfortunately, Robert was sitting next to where I fell and I think I knocked him back a little. Here are the results of that fiasco:
The back of my left knee


Left arm


Right arm (tricep to shoulder area)


Later that night, I called my mom and told her what I did. Leigha just happened to be walking by at the same time and put in her 2 cents. Here is how the conversation went:
Cathy (to Mom on phone) My butt hurts
Leigha: Maybe you didn't wipe well Mommy. My butt sometimes hurts when I don't wipe well.
Cathy and Mom: (hysterically laughing)
Leigha: It tickles me too! (guess she thought that was why I was laughing hee hee)

Kids!
Now, for those who are supposed to make me get back on the Pilates bandwagon...I promise I will start tonight or tomorrow!