So I kind of thought I was a 50’s housewife at heart, you know, with all of the baking, sewing, etc.  That was until my husband blasted his achilles tendon last Monday night while playing soccer.  I did not fully understand the function of the achilles tendon was until that point in time.  Nor did I fully understand my husband’s function, to be honest.  He came to a screeching halt when he had surgery on Thursday afternoon.  He cannot bear weight on his foot for FOUR WEEKS.  This does not include baby steps of physical therapy, which the doctor has not even bothered to mention yet.  It’s just too far off.

So all of those things that he usually does… ironing his own clothes, for instance… I now do.  Grocery shopping… me.  Kitchen duty… 100% me.  Bathing, hauling, and putting kids to bed… me.

I am not loving it.

I appreciate him even more.  I know I am lucky that he does what he does at home.  I always knew that, even when I was asking him to do more.  But now… wow.

I almost cried when my friend told me that some of the guys wanted to come and rake our leaves.  I hope they do, because I am swamped.  All things at home  + working 4 days = a very stressed out and exhausted Momma.  I hate to say it, but I think it’s So Long, Turkey Trot this Thanksgiving morning.

As for my husband, he is doing okay.  He is not enjoying the sitting still, though the kids think it is just fine that he is always available for a cuddle.  He says his pain is not horrible (not taking any meds) and that it is better every day.  He hops around a lot.  He went to work the very next day.  One of his friends referred to him as a stud.  I called him crazy.  He will be okay, and I am thankful for that.

I can’t wait until he can grocery shop again.

And just ’cause there isn’t enough to think about, I am pretty sure I am getting sick.  I am no hero… if I get sick, I WILL take the day off to sleep and pay a sitter to watch the kids.  That is so not a 50’s housewife thing to do.