It was one of those days...

Yesterday started out well enough. I went with my sister and her family to Providence to listen to my parents speak in Sacrament Meeting. I thought they did a fantastic job and was so glad I got to go. I arrived home to find it deserted...John and the kids had gone on a walk, so I took a 5 minute rest. Things are going pretty good, eh! We have lunch, I prepare Sunday dinner to the point it will be very easy to get it on the table after church, everyone gets dressed, and we walk, uneventfully, to church. This, unfortunately, is where things start to get a little crazy.

A few minutes into the meeting Jeffrey hands me a note out of his scripture bag, informing me that he is to give a talk in primary. That day. In about an hour. Oh, and Katie Anne is not doing so hot. She says no in a rather violent way to her bottle, snacks, books, stickers, and any other diversion we can think of. I quickly write Jeffrey a talk, take Katie Anne out, and try to listen to the speakers as I sit in the Mother's Lounge which is also the bathroom, and try to divert her attention away from those wonderful toys they put in there called flushing toilets.

Well, we get her dropped off in nursery, listen to Jeffrey stumble through the talk, laugh about his timing, go to Sunday school, get called out of said school to change, you guessed it, Katie Anne's reeky diaper. I get her changed with only a little incident with her shoe dropping into the you-know-what, go to put the last tab of the diaper on, and it rips off in my hand. Sheesh. I head out the door carrying her and for some reason the dirty diaper, and look for someone to help me. I get her a new diaper and drop her back off at nursery. Oh, and I did wash her shoe off, threw away the diaper, and washed my own hands.)

Then I go to Relief Society which is fine, except I don't EVER get used to sitting up front where everyone is looking at you (I'm in the presidency now) and you have to be mature and not eat gummy bears, like I'm used to doing. Big sigh. We made it to the end of church. Let's go home and eat some pork chops, baked potatos, and yummy tossed salad. But wait, you say, that's not so bad!

O.K. Jeffrey forgot his scriptures. Still not so bad. I go upstairs (we meet in a really old building) to his classroom to look for them. Now it gets bad. I stumbled/slipped/fell down the last half of the steps! When I got to the bottom I looked up at the few adults left in the foyer and say, "Hey everybody!" When asked if I am hurt I say, "Well, my toe hurts a little and my pride hurts a lot!" I really thought I was fine.

I move forward with my plans, and make a quick stop at my visiting teaching partner's house so we can drop off a few little things while John heads home with the kids to get them changed. As we're standing in our first stop's house things are fine except my toe (the little piggy that did not get any roast beef) hurts more and then I get the feeling I am going to faint. I hold on until we get back in Dani's Excursion and I tell her, "Please take me home, and if I faint on the way, just get to John and he'll help me." I was able to get out of her car, John helped me into the house, and I collapsed on the couch. Long story short (yeah, right) I either broke my toe or jammed it really, really, really bad. The rest of the night everytime it hurt, which was often, I would think of me going down those steps and have to laugh. I'm sure it was quite the sight!

So, today I've been hobbling around, trying not to bend my toe. It's taped to the other one which is all you can do. I did consult an authority on broken toes (my mother) and that's what she said to do. I think I'll live, but next time I'm feeding that toe roast beef!