The Injury Report and Holiday Stuff.

So the consensus at the gym is that the hip issues are a strain of the gluteus minimus caused by walking in improper shoes. Which, I'll admit, I did. It should work itself out providing I don't repeat the offense. One of my cohorts suggested I invest in a pair of Danskos.

Sadly the elbow that was bothering me before I left is still being a bit of a pain. I attribute that to last week's luggage hauling and this weekend's hauling the huge bottle of fabric softener down from the upper shelf every load of f*ing laundry. I'm bracing it at the gym so I expect that to work itself out as well.

Saturday we carved pumpkins. Which is to say the boy drew and I carved. An artist, he ain't. I'll admit it took every bit of mommy martyr I had to let him put a picture on each one for me to execute. His faces are all too small for the pumpkins and not scary, pretty or much of anything but odd. The reality is, however, that unless I'm willing to hand a knife to the 9 year old (which I most definitely am not) his only part of the process is the picture. And it's supposed to be about the kids, afterall.

What I acquired in the process (besides 4 pumpkins with teeny tiny carved faces) is some sort of owie on my right pointer finger. It's been red and hot since Saturday night. This morning it had some goop, so it's obviously infected. It's probably a result of scooping pumpkin innards, but I'll be darned if I know what did it.

Yesterday the boy spent the afternoon over at his friend's house. Golly I like how that sounds! I had 4 glorious hours to myself and did a whole lot of nothing. Just my luck there'd be no movies on our many movie channels that held any interest for me.

Tonight has the obvious activities: handing out candy while the man takes the boy out for trick or treat. I don't know if it's because I'm raising him right or raising him wrong, but the boy just isn't as interested in the candy as my sibs and I were at that age. He'll get a bag load. Sort what he'll eat and won't. Then hubs and I will pick through the won't for treats for us. There's an advantage to a boy who doesn't do peanut butter...