My mom is still hurting. I should emphasize that while she does have broken ribs, most of her pain stems from complications she's experiencing from previous surgeries. We are hopeful that the pain subsides quickly.
I say this because my mom is tough. Anytime she's sick she showers, gets ready for the day, and acts normally because she's sure it speeds up recovery. This is a woman who walked herself to the hospital in labor, and who made nary a noise during delivery. So when I heard her whimper while talking to her on the phone today, it was kind of scary. I hope things get better soon.
I am happy to say that her release date is still looking like Monday. She can't wait to leave. I can't say I blame her.
In the meantime, I spent the morning trying to find a way out of the house while the floors were being cleaned. I drove around for an hour until I ended up at Barnes and Noble where I found myself hefting a baby carrier, carrying a large diaper bag, and failing miserably in my attempts to wrangle two loud and energetic children while traveling up the escalator. It only got worse when I went to check out and dropped an armful of homeschooling material at the cashier station. (I have been planning on homeschooling Grace next year.) The woman eyed me skeptically. I'm pretty sure we were thinking the same thing. That I should just place those homeschooling books back where I found them, run myself and my children back to our car and pretend it never happened.
But I bought them anyway. The cashier handed Grace a bag of books and said, "You look like you're a good helper."
Grace grabbed the bag of books and said, "Not really," and asked me if I would trade her bags so she could have the light one.
And that is why I am not even being considered to be the one taking care of my mom. Unless any of you are aware of a very reasonably priced boarding school for exceptionally young children.