FlyLady is dead.
Sunday night I picked up my friend’s adorable son to spend the night with Coyote. We only have sleepovers if the friend lives a certain distance (aka… I’m to lazy to go back and get them).
The next morning was delightful… pancakes with homemade apple syrup and a plateful of delicious Sunkist oranges. Mmmmm…
I wanted to have so much fun during spring break; friends over, baking, ice cream, movies, Wii… par-tay.
I was feeling so good I also had Cheroo’s little friend over. This brought our total to eight + li’l peanut.
Suddenly I remembered I was pregnant and I was back in bed at 11:00 a.m. Thank heaven for wonderful children who don’t need supervision! They only killed FlyLady.
Bo-Beana came in to ask if she could go snowboarding for the first time with her cute little friend. Sure! I was so happy for her to try! I helped her get her gear together and she was off.
I took Cheroo’s friend home.
I went back to bed.
The phone rang. No one picked up.
The phone rang again. No one picked up.
In my sleep I was thinking “why in the heck are they not answering the phone when they know I am sleeping!?!” This is my patient, pregnant self talking.
The phone rang again and a clear voice in my head said “Jill, [Bo-Beana] broke her arm.”
I threw the covers off, answered the phone and heard “This is ski patrol at Hilltop. [Bo-Beana] crashed on her snowboard and we think she broke her arm.”
Through the growth plate. Sweet.
It’s broken right above the wrist. The cast seems excessive but we have to keep the silly ulna and radius from rolling around on each other. Those silly bones.
Next day, eight children most of the day again… and I was in bed sleeping… a lot. I think I made some arms, legs, and a digestive system over the past few days.
To thank my wonderful children for their help, I took them out for a fiddy cent ice cream cone from McDonalds. I know how to treat them to a good time, eh?
FlyLady is still dead.