Mending mama

We hosted yesterday six kids under the age of 6, including four giggly girls intermittently wearing Snow White, Elsa, Anna and Strawberry Shortcake gowns.

While everyone was well-behaved, the girls announced to me a few times that they do not like boys, and my little M-man at least once tearfully denounced girls.

My poor, out-numbered little dude was plenty relieved when his buddy showed up a few minutes ago and immediately got ninja'ed-up.

That left the girls to tattle on each other, gowns and hair and sass everywhere. One of the girls announced all of the other kids are "turkey turkeys."

I sat with my bum foot propped up, totally remembering being so annoyed with boys and so indignant with them. It's kind of adorable to watch. The playdate wrapped up with a freeform dance/electronic keyboard/Doc McMcStuffins-microphone performance by the Giggly Four.

It's been one week since I busted one of my toes. One week down, (hopefully) five to go until I can run again. Toes carefully crossed.

A visit to a podiatrist last week taught me that Lululemon makes clothing for guys (he was in a fitted Lulu shirt that was pretty nice); I could try laser treatments to speed healing; and I was OK to do stationary bike and continue the gentle yoga I'd already tried with some success. 

Oh, and keep my kids and the commuting public from tramping on my fragile appendage.

So far, so good. 20-mile weeks were replaced this past week with a 3-mile-run (two hours before I broke my toe), 22 miles on the stationary bike (bonus: Blues Brothers was on cable yesteray) and a few short yoga DVD sessions.

I'll give the laser treatments a try, and start working with a physical therapist for my perennially effed-up back.

So far, I'm hopeful and not crazy. Yet...

And next time, I want to dance with the Giggly Four!