Just don't say, "Give me a break."

Yeah, the picture's not really for the faint of heart or those with weak stomachs. So, sorry if that's you. But I thought the x-ray would kind of put everything in perspective...

It's been a kind of stressful last couple weeks at the Farr house.

We went under contract on a sweet little beach cottage March 29th... very exciting right? Did I mention it's only a half mile from the beach in Oceanside? It is small, but cute as a button. And if you love the vintage thing, this 1955 charmer has it in spades. What it also has is some problems. Not too surprising in an older home, but they were the kind of thing that required repairs before the bank would loan on the property. So we took a deep breath and said, ok-- slight delay, we can deal.

We would have liked life to ease up on the other usual stressors (job, church callings, parenting), and may have thought or even said, "Give me a break." Not a good idea, apparently. Those usual things kept coming at us, and then we got the call...

Matthew and Zachary went to the park with friends last Thursday evening. I remember thinking 7:30 was kind of late to go play on a school night, but since we're moving soon I hate for them to miss time with friends. It wasn't 20 minutes later that Zac called to say, "Matthew broke his leg." My initial reaction was disbelief, then Glenn and I dashed to the car to get him. A rather frantic drive to the closest ER (with a skateboard splint immobilizing the break) was followed by a LONG night/day in the hospital that ended with us being told surgery wouldn't happen 'till Monday at the soonest. Since this was an out-of-network hospital (you know the headache and wallet-drain that means), we opted to go home and see a doctor somewhere else.

Monday we saw a great doc at Cedars-Sinai, who scheduled surgery for Friday (tomorrow) morning. The interim has meant waiting on Matthew hand and foot (haha- NOT) while he lays on the couch. The break's too painful for even walking on crutches. It's been a long, tiring week, but the end is in sight. Tomorrow we'll head for Beverly Hills around 4 AM and he should have a cast in place before lunchtime. We'll return home Saturday morning.

Since work on the new house is done and we should be closing this next week, returning home will mean a whirlwind of final packing duties. And it, too, will be exhausting. But in a couple weeks, we'll be settling in to our new home, with ocean breezes wafting through the windows. And Matthew will be hobbling to the bathroom (and everywhere else) more or less on his own. Life will be assuming the familiar (though slightly altered) shape of normalcy.

And I will be far more careful about saying (or even thinking) "Give me a break."