Ouch.

Remember in my last post how I was whining about a crafting injury?

Turns out, it’s probably not a crafting injury. Who knows what it is, frankly. Hopefully not something that would get me my own episode of Mystery Diagnosis. (Is that still on? I watched that obsessively while pregnant. If we still had cable, I probably still would.)

Monday morning, when I blogged about the birthday party, I was feeling much better. But then that evening, my knees were in agony. I couldn’t get off the sofa, much less go downstairs. It was awful.

Tuesday morning, again, I woke up and felt okay. Not great, my wrists still hurt, but not terrible. I was able to work for most of the day. I felt kind of dumb making a doctor’s appointment, thinking I probably was already almost over this, but I did anyway.

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Lots of tests.

Chatted with the doctor for a bit, she threw out some possibilities, and I had bloodwork done. When I left her office to get the kids from school, I was still feeling reasonably good. But on the drive home, my shoulders started to ache. Turning the steering wheel was tough. And by the time we got home, I was again in extreme pain.

Did you know you use your shoulders a lot? I didn’t. Now I do. Even when you walk. So again, I spent the evening on the sofa, this time hardly able to move my arms. My left wrist was throbbing with pain, rendering my left hand useless. That was super fun.

Went to bed with some shiny new painkillers coursing through my veins, and with the aid of a heating pad wrapped around my wrist (don’t worry, I didn’t sleep with it on) I was able to grab a few hours of sleep before it wore off and I had to take another.

One of the theories my doctor proposed was parvovirus (aka fifth disease) which apparently sometimes only presents as joint pain in adults. So I might be suffering for a while – it can take weeks to go away.

After I left the doctor’s office, I suddenly remembered that I’ve been taking an antiviral four times a day for the last seven weeks. (I totally spaced on that when the nurse asked if I was taking any medications – oops.) So I looked up the side effects, and sure enough, one of them listed was joint pain. Of course, probably all medications list joint pain as a possible side effect. Nevertheless, I called my eye doctor this morning and he said to reduce the frequency to one time a day. Maybe it will make a difference. I really hope so. I’d cross my fingers, if I could.

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The 7th birthday party!

This is a really hard post to write. I don’t mean emotionally, I mean physically. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I have some kind of crafting injury. I spent some time Friday working on a big decoration for the party, and by that night, my left wrist and thumb, and a couple of the fingers on my right hand, as well as my left ankle, were in pain. Enough pain that I had to cancel an outing to a birthday party that evening.

The next morning, both wrists and thumbs and more fingers were affected, as well as both ankles. No idea what was going on – were my ankles sore from getting on and off chairs? And also my left shoulder, what was that about? I felt like I’d been hit by a car, or maybe had run a marathon on my hands. It felt a lot like muscle soreness from overuse. Pretty awful. Sunday I woke up feeling even worse, but since I’d kind of figured out on Saturday that moving kept the pain at bay, I just kept busy all day. Not hard, since I had so much birthday party prep to do.

But I was exhausted by nighttime, and the pain intensified. Woke up this morning, got the boys off to school, took a leftover painkiller from my surgery, and passed out. Took the day off work so I wouldn’t have to type all day (except to write this post, of course) and am feeling much better just for getting a solid four hour block of sleep. Hopefully I’m on the road to recovery now.

Shoot, this post wasn’t supposed to be about me, but about the boys’ birthday party!

It was great. Basically the same party as last year – rented a bounce house and a popcorn machine, ordered a stack of pizzas, filled a pinata, and let the kids play and the adults hang out. The boys got to invite 5-6 friends each from their classes, and there were kids from the neighborhood there too. Lots of fun was had by all. 🙂

Pictures!

Birthday cake!

Pinata!

More random pics

Well, that was no good

Warning: Vent ahead.

I like to go out to eat on the boys’ birthday. The way I see it, I shouldn’t have to cook on the anniversary of the day I gave birth to three babies. While the boys don’t love going to restaurants (what is wrong with them?!?) at least I can count on them eating something nice and fattening.

I was having a hard time deciding where to go, since they’re so picky. I finally settled on a famous chain restaurant that I knew had good chicken fingers on the menu. I’d be able to get a salad or something that pretends to be healthy, and the boys could get a fun dessert for their birthday. Plus, George had gotten a gift card to this restaurant that named itself after a spicy vegetable, so it seemed like an easy decision.

We get to the restaurant, and are seated after a short wait. So far, fine. The waitress comes and takes our orders. Hooray! I order a Tex-Mex inspired bowl of some sort, George gets a burger, and the boys get the chicken and fries.

And we wait. And wait and wait and wait and wait. Our waitress assures us our food is coming. Eventually, it does. She warns us of hot plates, and I know these chicken fingers usually are volcanically hot when they get to the table, so I warn the boys not to touch them. I needn’t have worried, they were warm, but certainly not too hot to eat.

My food is set in front of me, and it looks nothing like the menu photo. The plate is covered in black beans and there’s a grilled chicken breast on top. (Also, not hot, but warm. How long was it sitting in the back, I wonder?) Most of the ingredients listed seem to be there, so I figure it’s just one of those things where it looks different in real life. But where’s the sliced avocado and the fresh greens? I start to eat, because we’ve already waited so long, but I flag the waitress down when she deigns to stop by our table.

“There’s no avocado on this,” I say.

“There’s not supposed to be,” she counters.

“Please bring me a menu.”

“Of course!” she replies, brightly. A few moments later, she comes back with a menu. Right there in black and white (actually color) is a photo of my dish with avocado on top. And the description clearly mentions “sliced avocado” and “field greens.” With a confused look, she goes back to the kitchen.

She comes back an eternity later (my chicken breast is almost gone at this point, but it’s the principle) and says, “the kitchen doesn’t give out avocado slices. They say no one likes them so they don’t offer them.”

My head explodes and she scurries off to get the manager.

The manager goes to the table, and she is very apologetic. She also informs me that my dish should not have avocado on it. I love being called a liar, so I point out the photo and description on the menu. She says, “that’s not what you ordered.”

Uh, okay. Yes it is.

“No, you ordered the Margarita Chicken. That’s the Margarita Chicken Bowl.”

My head re-explodes.

So there are two dishes on the menu with nearly the same name. When I ordered, I pointed to the item on the menu that I wanted (THE BOWL), and said the name (BOWL BOWL BOWL). Why would a restaurant put two items with nearly the same name on the menu, and then hire servers who are too dumb to know the difference? I’m pretty sure if I worked at this restaurant, and someone ordered one of these items, I’d make damn sure I was clear on what the customer wanted (THE BOWL). But what do I know?

The manager, who was very nice, offered to bring the boys some desserts for free, but we said no, we just wanted to get out. They comped me and George’s entrees, and gave us a bunch of vouchers to use for next time. Next time, ha!

On the bright side, I only had a grilled chicken breast for dinner, so at least I had a relatively healthy meal.

We are kind of evil.

I mean, we got the boys’ the gifts they have been wanting for months. But I had to make it fun for us too…

It is kind of heartbreakingly sweet how much they pretended to love their t-shirts and pajamas. You should have seen the dejection on their faces when they thought that’s all they were getting.

And then when they thought they were getting Lego sets they already had…

But I got tons of hugs after they got down to the real presents, and I was so proud that they didn’t whine or complain, but instead tried to make the most of lame gifts.

Race report: Big Easy Running Festival Mini Marathon

Yesterday (November 23, 2014) was the inaugural Big Easy Running Festival. I signed up for it months ago, and I only had to pay a few dollars for the entry, so when the weather looked like it was going to scupper the whole shebang, I wasn’t too upset. I had signed up for the mini marathon (which sounds way more impressive than the actual race distance of four miles.)

Up until the time I woke up Sunday morning, I wasn’t sure if it was going to happen. The time had been pushed back to a 10:15 start, so it was nice not to have to rush out the door at the crack of dawn. On the other hand, I was worried about it being warmer than I’d like.

I got down to the race site and there weren’t a ton of people. As I was walking up, the national anthem was being sung, and I recognized the voice as that of my friend Robin. She really does have the most exquisite voice.

I got my race packet and debated putting on the race shirt because it was rather chilly, and I’d only worn a short-sleeved tee. The race shirt was short sleeved too, but hey, layers. In the end (even though yellow is not my color) I decided to wear it.

Photo Nov 23, 9 47 09 AM

I huddled under a building overhang while waiting for our race to start, because it was lightly raining. Mostly I was just trying to avoid getting my shoes wet. It cleared up in time to get lined up for the race, and we could see the sun coming out in the distance.

The race started not long after the finishers from the 10K (it was supposed to be a half-marathon, but it was cut short) started coming in. Man, they were fast! Pretty awesome.

And then the race started. It was fine. I had been training at a pretty slow pace (basic advice from a coworker who runs really long distances) to go farther distances, so my splits of just under 12 minutes were just what I was aiming for. I mean, not to sound too defensive, but I’ve run a 31 minute 5k, so I definitely can run faster. I just chose not to this time. NO REALLY.

{Let me ask myself, since I gave up doing half marathons, why am I working on running longer distances instead of working on going faster? I must ponder this.}

{Maybe one day I want to try to actually run an entire half-marathon?}

Anyway, there was a nasty headwind from mile 2-3, and the sun came out blazing. I started to regret the extra layer, but oh well.

I ended up finishing right in 46:22, a pace of 11:36 per mile. I’m totally fine with that. In fact, I’m rather proud that I didn’t go out too fast. I don’t know my mile splits (I think the GPS was just bad downtown because Runkeeper had my first mile at 8:50 or something absurd) but I suspect they were negative. (In a good way.)

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I’m also possibly unreasonably proud for finishing 16th in my age group. And not 16th out of 18, but 16th out of 40. And the 73rd female out of 175! That’s the top half! At least next year, I’ll be the youngest in my age group instead of the oldest. Heh.

Anyway, I was kind of bummed that we didn’t get 610 Stompers cheering us on at the finish like the 10k finishers did, and we got plastic cups instead of medals, but oh well.

Ran into my friends Robin (the angelic-voiced one) and her husband Bryan at the finish and forced them to take a triplet parent selfie with me.

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Not sure what’s next. Am I going to cave and do another half? Or some 5ks? Another sprint triathlon? No idea.