Sometimes I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres. No particular reason. Just because I can.
In the event that we lose power, I’m writing this post one day ahead.
This afternoon, the snow that forecasters were talking about all week, finally started to fall. This morning should have been the quiet before the storm….except it wasn’t…at least not in my house.
For me, the day started – briefly – at about 3:30 in the morning. That’s when my husband’s snoring woke me up. As per usual, I gathered myself together and went downstairs to sleep on the couch. Somehow or another, I missed a step and fell down the stairs, cursing along the way. To clarify, it wasn’t a true fall. I slid down the steps on my behind. My husband charged out of bed, flipping the lights on to find me sitting on the bottom step – because that’s where I landed.
“Did you butt-slide down the stairs again?”
“Yes,” I said, rubbing my backside.
That’s right Ellen. This wasn’t the first time I rode the stairs down in such a fashion. The first time was when I was 7 months pregnant. I bruised my tailbone but other than that I was fine and so was the baby. It happened when my husband was at work. I hadn’t planned on telling him, but I also hadn’t planned on him coming home and giving me a loving smack on the behind. Color him confused when I yelped in pain.
Anyway, bringing you back to the present, the baby woke up when I yelled out. My husband put her back to bed and then helped me to the couch.
Oh….but the morning had only begun. Around 11 a.m, I gave my kids a bath and then I had a bath. While I was drying off in my bedroom, I heard a crash, a shattering sound, and then my daughter screaming. Running through the upstairs – in my birthday suit – I found my daughter had pulled the metal shelving that was standing over the toilet on top of herself. Fortunately, nothing landed on her but there was a glass candy dish on the shelf that had M&Ms in it that we were using for potty training our son. It shattered on the floor and she cut her toe.
If there was any doubt about whether or not she was my child, it went away when I dabbed her cut with an alcohol swab. The words coming out of her mouth, Ellen. The words.
Anyway, baby girl is doing just fine. She’ll make a full recovery. But I’m left wondering, if this is the calm before the storm. What’s going to happen when the actual storm arrives?