My Middle Name Should Have Been Grace

I am not the most graceful person.  I frequently trip and bump into things.  On most days, I have at least one bruise somewhere on my body that I cannot explain the origin of.  But for me, this is nothing new. 

Remember the Beanie Baby craze back in the late 90’s?  I found it absolutely hysterical that I shared a birthday with Gracie the Swan.

Derek isn’t a stranger to my clumsiness.  In fact, pretty much anyone who knows me is well aware of my inability to walk and chew gum at the same time.  I am amazed that I am “allowed” to carry Carder around while I walk.  Full Disclosure - I do have to admit there have been several times I have almost tripped while carrying him and almost fallen.  One of my worst fears is that I will somehow injure myself when I am home alone with Carder and have to figure out how to get treatment.  Each time I slice up something for the dinner I am cooking, I envision what would happen if I cut my finger off.  Gross?  Absolutely.  Irrational?  Not so much.

Thursday night, Derek wasn’t home yet and Carder was quite fussy – which is the norm for his last day of day care for the week.  I was rushing around trying to cook dinner and Carder was crying because he wanted to be held.  I had placed some Taco meat in the freezer to cool it off for Carder.  I opened the freezer door and bent down to get the meat out – bumping my head in the process on the plastic ice maker that sticks out.  But I didn’t just bump it - I whacked it hard enough that it split my eye open.

I had rehearsed my action plan a million times in my head.  I called Derek and calmly told him that I needed for him to finish up so that he could come home and I could take myself to the ER.  My exact words were “Are you about finished?  Then could you wrap things up and head on home as soon as you can?  I hit my head on the freezer and split it open and I think I need to head to the ER to see if I need stitches.”

Derek – who obviously had not rehearsed this plan in his head a million times – freaked out a bit (I fully believe he envisioned me in a pool of blood on the floor with Carder crawling over me crying at the top of his lungs).  He was home shortly.

I looked like a boxer who had been punched in the eye.  At the ER, they assessed the situation and glued the cut closed and sent me on my way.  The eye did turn black and looked wonderful for the Memorial Day weekend…  It looks much better now, but you should have seen the looks Derek got everywhere we went.  I think people assumed the black eye was from him...