Yesterday was not such a good day.
While Andrew was getting some rest early yesterday afternoon, I decided, as I do everyday, to make some tea. As I was pouring the hot water into the tea pot the lid popped off and I was burned from the steam. Only about two-three inches of skin was affected. Nothing, right?
The trouble was, it burned my fingers.
Of my right hand.
I never realized how much I need that two-three inches of skin to NOT be throbbing in pain. Looking at the area, you can't tell that anything happened. A little swelling. A little bit red. And very pruney from hours of being submerged in water. But it left me handicapped.
Laundry went unfolded. Toys went unpicked-up. Work went undone.
Much of day was spent on the couch, hand in bowl, feverish toddler napping and drooling on my shoulder while Jane Austen movies entertained. I spent a lot of time thinking about how much I love and use my hands. How much of me is defined by what they do. Not sure what I think of that. Good, bad, helpful....
I guess it just is what it is.
I am so glad that today they are up and running. Have some crafting planned for naptime today and I wanted to put them to good use.
Stay tuned for more...