if you can't stand the heat, stay away from the soup
I think we just had the coziest weekend ever. Last week was so awful for all of us that James took Friday off, and by nothing short of a miracle, he didn't have to go to work Saturday. A three day weekend! After a week of his 14 hour days, just having another person around to change diapers and cut up food for the baby felt like a tropical vacation. Despite the extra help, I was a bundle of anxiety on Friday. I didn't move from my spot on the couch until I got the phone call I've been waiting for. My mom has been going through a terrifying health scare, and while she's not out of the woods yet, we can all breath easy for now. I'm so relieved I can't even tell you.
We had a mostly picture-perfect December weekend. We hibernated since it was cold and snowy. Snowy! We only have about an inch of snow, but it's been flurrying for days. From my perch on the couch, I can see the Christmas tree, snow falling outside, and the fireplace. There is nothing that could make me happier other than a chocolate cake somewhere in view. James has been keeping the fire going all weekend, and we've been having a Christmas movie marathon. The house we almost bought last week doesn't have a fireplace, and after spending the weekend by the fire, I am more convinced than ever that I can't live without a wood burning fireplace. I made homemade tomato soup in the crockpot, and we made grilled cheddar and gruyere sandwiches on sourdough. It goes down as one of my favorite meals of all time. We wrapped presents, cleaned the house, and I finished up my Christmas shopping. Each evening when Gracie went to bed, James and I snacked on junk food and watched season two of Fuller House. I can't begin to tell you how desperately we needed this weekend. And how desperate I was to find out if DJ chose Matt or Steve.
Things did, however, take a turn Saturday night. I was possessed by something, because I was clumsier on Saturday than I have ever been in my life. I dropped everything I touched. Literally everything, from sippy cups up to and including my food processor. The more I tried to be careful, the clumsier I became. Saturday evening, I stubbed my toe twice and banged my arm on the refrigerator door. My contact also managed to spontaneously rip while still in my eyeball. I scratched my eye while trying to fish it out, and its been watering incessantly and hurting ever since. The worst of all was when I spilled a ladle full of boiling soup on my hand. I knew instantly that it was going to be a bad burn. No matter how much lidocaine I put on it, it just seemed to make it angrier. I spent the evening and the entire night rotating bags of frozen vegetables and ice packs on finger. As I went to refill the ice pack for the second time, I realized that our ice maker broke. My middle finger is down for the count, which is unfortunate because that's exactly what I would like to give that ladle of soup...AND the ice maker. The pain was unbearable for hours, but the good news is that it got me out of doing the dishes. I spent the entire night not sleeping, because as soon as I would start to fall asleep, the frozen washcloth/ice pack/frozen green beans would warm up, and my finger would start burning again. I woke up with a blister the size of Texas covering a nice chunk of my finger. In a cruel twist of fate, I spilled my hot tea that morning. It landed right on top of my blister, because of course it did. That's the reason you'll find me pulling another batch of eggnog cookies out of the oven in approximately 1 hour.
From now on, I'm hoping all future burns will take place in our fireplace.