My husband's right foot.

Remember the movie "My Left Foot"? Well, my husband's right foot has dominated my existence since last Thursday night.

He was taking out the Christmas tree. Our beautiful, 12-foot Christmas tree. The children were mourning its passing, but it was well past Twelfth Night and it was starting to look like procrastination on our parts!

Truly, it was a beautiful tree, loaded with tiny white lights and ornaments that echoed Christmas' past. But that tree also will forever be linked to my husband's misstep that cracked one of the multitude of bones that are in the foot.

At first, he sucked it up and limped through a meeting with his boss. But upon awaking on Friday morning, he fell back onto the bed with a yelp that signalled pain and shock. I looked at the foot, which now was a rainbow of colors and realized quickly that we needed to get to the emergency room.

So that is my excuse for not blogging on Friday. A day filled with x-rays, splints, runs to the drug store and full kid duties. The doctor's orders clearly said for him to stay off the foot and keep it elevated. Monday will be "permanent cast" day at the orthopedic surgeon's office and I'm truly hoping that surgery isn't in his future. My husband does many things well -- but staying down for any length of time or anything to do with hospitals, doctors, etc. and he is completely out of his element.

The kids are excited about the possibilities of drawing on his cast.

Man. It is going to be a LONG six weeks.