It’s such a busy month. We celebrate Michael, Kenza and Donkey’s birthdays and Mother’s Day all just a few days apart. Michael got a lovely leather bracelet, and Donkey got a lovely hat, which he doesn’t think is so lovely.
And on Monday Cherry Berry had surgery to repair her severely luxating patella. It was a lengthy and painful 3.5-hour surgery and she really isn’t acting like she had surgery at all – which is bad – because having an active, 3-legged dog with a giant cone on its head herding you is a little annoying and really, really not so good for the furniture.
To add to the loving chaos my parents will be in town this weekend for Kenza’s birthday party. A birthday swim party, complete with eleven eleven-year-old girls. I can’t believe my baby turns 11 on Friday. ELEVEN. This past year she’s grown more than any year I can remember. She’s just as tall (or short) as I am and she has already surpassed my shoe size and is able text message faster than you can blink an eye. She’s very proud of her texting skills, especially since Mom stinks at texting.
Mom also stinks at running. Last week I had a good week of very slow wogging on the Sunshine PIMP. But this week isn’t so sunshiny. The ankle is mostly better, but now I have a very mysterious pain in the bottom of my left foot beneath my fourth toe. It was really bad this morning and I had to only walk on my heel for a good ten minutes or so. I’m not sure what it is but it comes and goes and is making me insane. And all this birthday cake is making for a FAT Runner Susan. Woe is the Runner Susan. Woe.