Gong show

I am a gong show. I am a walking, stumbling, no-balance, poor-spatial-skills gong show. I have a long history of injuring myself while…walking. I am the queen of showing up with giant, purple, angry bruises from…I HAVE NO IDEA.¬†So, when I got myself couch-ridden last week, no one in the Sisterhood or in my life was surprised.

It all started innocently enough – a long 8-km walk a couple of weeks ago with two of the sisters, one that we had taken before and one we used as a wild-flower collecting expedition.

But on the last kilometer, just after buying supplies for the yummy breakfast we would have at Jacqui’s house afterwards, I rolled my ankle. It wasn’t a bad one (remember the long history? Yeah, also not the first one…), but it made me go down onto my knees and skin my elbow. Both Toni and Jacqui weren’t surprised to find me on the ground, but of course they were worried. I hobbled home, reassuring them that everything was okay, and after a day or so, my ankle felt normal again and happy.

That Tuesday, though, I did it again. This time I was also on a sidewalk (the most dangerous walking surface known to Julia), and I was just walking, minding my own business, but I was with Sophie. We were chatting on the way home from buying some bread and milk from the grocery store across the street from us, when I went down again. My ankle gave out, rolled, and stabbed me in the back.

This one hurt a lot. I was able to hobble home, reassuring Sophie that I was fine, but once I got inside the house with Ben, I started to sob. I so wasn’t okay. My ankle was sore and swelling, and my knee, which caught my fall, was torn and bleeding. Ben cleaned me up, found the biggest band aid we had in the house, and then left me to be a parent all day. Sugar daddies are like that. ūüėČ

This roll stuck with me a bit more – my ankle was more tender and sore, but I kept plowing through my life, as I’m wont to do. I kept mothering and walking everywhere, including wandering the St. Jacobs Farmers’ Market¬†while pulling a wagon full of produce and babies, and hanging out with other mom-friends and their babies at splash pads and parks, and generally ignoring my traitor of an ankle.

But last Saturday, my ankle had the last laugh. I was sitting (SITTING!!!!), with my legs tucked under me as I always do because I’m short and can’t touch the floor, so it’s more comfortable to sit with legs pulled up than dangling down. I moved to get off of the stool I was on and my ankle twisted funny. From that moment on, I couldn’t bend it. I couldn’t stand on it. I couldn’t put any weight on it. I couldn’t move it without it screaming at me. It was all done. And so was I.

I tried to ‘pop’ it because it almost felt like the joint was stuck and just needed a bit of pressure to go back to normal. Nope.

I tried napping, hoping that my ankle would relax and be fine again. Nope.

I tried crawling around, hoping time off of it would help. Nope.

I tried getting Ben to carry me everywhere, while laughing my head off at how ridiculous I must have looked. Nope.

And then, after the babies were in bed, I tried going to the hospital for x-rays. Yep.

My ankle wasn’t broken, just sprained really, really horribly. And I was prescribed the classic athlete prescription – RICE – Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation. I wasn’t allowed to put any weight on it, I had to keep it up, I had to put ice on it, and I had to wrap it in a sexy tensor bandage. Yay me! I hobbled out of the hospital with a brand-new pair of crutches and extreme worry.

Worry about walking with crutches – if I couldn’t walk like a normal person with two healthy legs, how the hell was I supposed to accomplish walking with two sticks stuck under my armpits??

Worry about the prescription – how was I supposed to complete my RICE with three babies under 7 at home??

Worry about my ankle – did I ruin it completely? Will I ever be able to walk or run normally again? When can I run again? When can I walk again? Why does my ankle hate me???

I got home, ate an ice cream sandwich because that’s what I do when I’m sad, and went upstairs to bed. Where I fell. Again. It was spectacular – I mis-crutched in my bedroom and ended up falling right back, like a tree timbering, to avoid catching myself on my out-of-commission ankle, all the way to the floor, where my head landed in the lost sock basket and my crutches flew into the air and I started laughing. Hysterical laughing. Tears streaming down my face until I actually started crying. Hysterical crying. Ben had to calm me down and literally put me to bed. Gong show.

gravity check

Of course, after a good night’s sleep, and some drugs, things started to unwind a little in the worry department. I remembered important things, like I’m not alone. I am not an island. I am a mother and wife and daughter and sister surrounded by a village of people who actually like me (they’re so screwed and crazy…). And that this silly ankle problem that HURT LIKE HELL was not the end of the world. I always think on the bad days that it’s the end of the world, that it will never get better, that this state is how things will always be. But then I get talked out of that tree and everything gets brighter.

Ben stayed home with me on Monday all day, giving me a second full day on the couch and giving us time to figure out the rest of the week.

I kicked the day off with a shower, which of course included me falling again. This time no crutches were involved, but I fell in our tiny bathroom, and my underwear got caught on a door hinge on the way down, so that when I landed, I not only had a hurt toosh, but my underwear were up near my neck and I had a giant wedgie. Sexy gong show.

wedgie

Then, I asked for help from sisters and from my dear mom friends and my own mom.

Andreah came every morning to clean my kitchen, wrangle children, and fetch me coffee, water, and food.

My jerk of an ankle

My jerk of an ankle

Andrea and Michele ferried Sophie to her art class every morning, sometimes keeping her for lunch and play dates. Bethany took my kids for three of the afternoons, letting me rest and keep my foot up while she fed and napped and chased my babies.

McSteamy kept me company. <3

McSteamy kept me company. ‚̧

And my mom kicked in an afternoon of motherly love, which included toenail painting (including Isaac’s!).

Clockwise from the giant blue toes (mine!), we have Isaac's (who was more reluctant about the picture than the actual toe-painting), Lillian (who has Spider-Man blue and red) and Sophie (who is proud to be the kid with the most polish still intact on both fingers AND toes)

Clockwise from the giant blue toes (mine!), we then have Isaac’s (who was more reluctant about the picture than the actual toe-painting), Lillian (who has Spider-Man blue and red) and Sophie (who is proud to be the kid with the most polish still intact on both fingers AND toes)

I’m happy to report I’m walking around now, fairly crutch-free, with some tensor bandage fashion and ice-pack dates punctuating the day, versus being the day. My ankle still aches¬†and I¬†know I still have to take it easy, but at least I’m moving in the right direction, I haven’t fallen in a while and I’ve stopped giving myself door-hinge wedgies. I’m cured! At least until my ankle decides to hate me again.

~ Julia

The second annual Julia awards

Last night (and this morning) the Oscars took up my living room and our Twitter feed and my dining room table:

SO. MUCH. FOOD. And yes...those strawberries are wearing tuxedos. It is the Oscars, after all.

SO. MUCH. FOOD. And yes…those strawberries are wearing tuxedos. It is the Oscars, after all.

It was lovely…and LONG. I don’t know why this year felt sooooo long…or soooooo snoozy…I’m going to go with it’s because I’m getting old.

This year, the Oscars were hosted by Neil Patrick Harris, a funny, engaging guy. The trouble? He’s no Ellen. Or Tina and Amy. Or Seth. NPH is…witty. And zingy. And the night is long and I loved the bits, but¬†he just wasn’t my favourite.

I will tell you what my favourite was, though! Hanging out with awesome ladies, gossiping and laughing, and eating and eating and eating. Having an Oscar party is pretty damn amazing – there’s a room full of ladies who get my gossipy obsession, who can out-trivia me and back me up on dress judgments and Spanx guessing. It’s dreamy. And lovely. And there’s tons of food and comfy clothes.

I know they look demonic, but I swear they're really nice (and I have no idea how to use a photo editor...)

I know they look demonic, but I swear they’re really nice (and I have no idea how to use a photo editor…)

And now, without further ado (unlike the end of the Oscars where NPH stuck YET ANOTHER BIT), here are my picks for last night’s BEST:

Best Dressed

All the ladies, both demonic and non-, agreed: who on earth would¬†be¬†best dressed? There was no clear front-runner for any of us. But, I’ve come up with my favourite of the night:

Jessi Cruikshank of the Canadian eTalk team was stunning in this muted gown. When I saw her on my Twitter feed, I immediately wrote her name down as a contender.

And my runner-up was Naomi Watts. She was stunning in this peek-a-boo dress, that showed flawless skin and toned torso. I’m also a sucker for tiny, tiny spaghettini straps…because I’ll never be able to wear them.

Naomi_Watts

Best Speech

For me, it was a 3-way tie:

Mr. Pawel Pawlikowski, the Polish director who won Best Foreign Language Film for Ida. He spoke so long, he was cued off with the music…but then, he refused to budge. And he didn’t. He just kept talking. Until the music STOPPED and he was given MORE TIME. Finally, the music started up again..and he did eventually leave the stage. But it was awesome – you work your whole life for the top accolade. Why on EARTH would you ever leave the stage before you’re ready once you’ve achieved it?

Pawel Pawlikowski

J.K. Simmons, who won Best Supporting Actor for Whiplash. He told everyone that if their parents are alive, to call them. Not text, not email, CALL them. Pick up the phone and talk. I love J.K. Simmons.

87th Annual Academy Awards - Show

And our third winner, Graham Moore, who won Best Adapted Screenplay for The Imitation Game. In his speech he not only honoured the subject of his movie, the late Alan Turing, he also talked about his battle with depression and his attempted suicide at 16. His best advice was to the kid that thought they were too weird, too different: “Stay weird. Stay different. And when it’s your turn to stand on this stage, pass the message along.”

Graham Moore

Best Underwear

Yep. There was underwear. And all we can say is, Mazel Tov, David Burtka, Mazel Tov.

WOWZA

WOWZA

Best Irony

Or worst…because REALLY? There were a lot of causes highlighted last night, and for good reason – there’s a lot we can do to fix this world – but the worst one was Patricia Arquette standing up for equal pay for women after winning Best Supporting Actress…and Meryl Streep and Jennifer Lopez emphatically agreeing with her.

Meryl-Streep J-Lo gif

The cause is real. But beyond making more money than most of us will ever see, what are these women¬†doing¬†for the “women of America”? Because all I can see are rich ladies demanding equality in a world where equality is a joke.

Best Not-So-Veiled-We-Were-Snubbed

Before,¬†it was Ben Affleck accepting the Oscar for Best¬†Picture in 2013 with his “You can’t hold grudges” bit in his acceptance speech acknowledging his perceived Best Director nomination snub. This year? It was all about Selma all the time.

Terrence Howard took his presenting job as the chance to highlight the emotion behind the movie Selma, to highlight the fact that it wasn’t nominated, although it did overwhelm him.

Terrence-Howard-467

Some say it was a teleprompter problem. Others wonder if he was drunk. I’m going with, Selma wasn’t nominated for anything but Best Song and Best Picture and this was his chance to make it shine. What do¬†you¬†think?

Best Joke

Last year John Travolta just couldn’t get Idina Menzel’s name right. It came out Adele Dazeem…which isn’t even CLOSE. So this year, I vote the use of the John Travolta Name Generator as best joke. (It wouldn’t let me embed the video, so here is the link.)

Ben Affleck pronounced as Benedict Cumberbatch?? Awesome.

Best Creepy Moment(s)

All of John Travolta’s. No seriously.

With Scarlett Johansson.

travoltakiss3A

With Benedict Cumberbatch.

John Travolta and Benedict Cumberbatch

With Idina Menzel.

john-travolta-idina-menzel-lg

Creeeeeeeepy.

Best SHOCKER

Ummm…Lady Gaga can SING. And as everyone on Twitter pointed out, she kicked Carrie Underwood’s ASS.

lady-gaga-oscars-sound-of-music-2015-billboard-650

And the last award of the night…Best WIN Face

It has to be Eddie Redmayne, because how can you argue with JOY like this:

eddie-redmayne-was-absolutely-shocked-by-his-first-oscar-win

It was a looong show and a looong night and an early morning (hence the lateness of this post), but the people I got to hang out with, the gossip I got to rehash, and the food I got to eat all make it worth it…sort of. Now, for coffee. ūüôā

~ Julia