A message of thanks for my husband

That guy has it rough right now.

There are a few things I don't handle well.

1. My house being messy
2. My house being full of smelly dogs
3. Forced immobility
4. Not getting things done
5. Not getting my way in life in general

Currently all five of those things are happening.

Due to number 3, I cannot do my routine. And the mess is piling. We are also dog sitting for a friend, so we have is (perfectly nice, harmless, old, lazy) black labs at our house. And they are constantly underfoot and LOOKING at me.

Yesterday I sorta melted down again. I feel ogre like in both size and mood. I can't touch my feet so getting my own ice packs on is difficult and pisses me off. My pelvis has been in nutty levels of pain following the fall, so walking, stairs, and cleaning things in general isn't really an option. Even though I have a LIST.

I also had to cancel my pedicure (which I desperately "need") due to my injuries. And there were tears. Possibly actual weeping. Because I have to be an immobilized cow with ugly hooves. The. Worst.

Ryan has been feeding me, helping me in and out of the shower, and tucking me in with extra pillows and water near by every night. He's insisted I do things like "nap" and "lay down" so my pelvis has a chance to get a break (I imagine it's hard to heal with six pounds of baby sitting on it). He bought Epsom salts so I can soak my feet and he can give me a very gentle pedicure. He commandeered my cleaning list, and has been taking loads of toys down to the basement (I'm redoing it for a play area) so I can sit and sort things. And somehow, through my complaining, whining, crying, moaning, and general regression to toddlerhood, he's managed to tell me I'm beautiful repeatedly, smile and kiss me, and show no signs of leaving me forever. So, thank you, thank you, thank you to him.

The thing that sucks, is that if the situation were switched, I would be like "Uh... you should go to your mom's." So let's hope he's never super pregnant with banged up feet.