I look (and feel) injured....

This past weekend, Jim (my little brother) and his girlfriend Shelly came up to celebrate St. Pat's in Chicago. We, of course, put him to work first. We needed to clear out the guest room in order to make room for baby stuff, which meant rearranging 3 rooms worth of furniture. It was like a giant game of tetris in our tiny apartment. All ended up well in the end thanks to Jim's genius design plan. It pays to use a professional (or at least a professional in training). We will only have to put a bed and a desk into storage. Everything else fit!

Then came the weekend.....

I was naive and thought that I wouldn't have any problem hanging two days in a row. For those of you unfamiliar with Chicago and St. Pat's, it's quite a spectacle. Everyone is Irish. Everyone wears silly outfits. And everyone starts drinking at 9:00 a.m. I thought, heck, I may be old, but I won't be drinking. It's the marathon drinking that usually kills me, right?. I was wrong.

As I'm sure Justin will tell whomever will listen, I've had a hard time getting used to the limits placed upon my body by pregnancy. I still think I can lift, work out, stay up, etc. like I used to. He tries desperately to get me to relax and take it easy. I don't listen. I'm not smart. Let's just say that 12 hours of being at the bars on Saturday (even though I was sober), and then going to the South Side Parade on Sunday, kicked my ass. My ankles are so swollen I look like I've been injured. My back is killing me. My hands are so swollen I can't even make a fist, let alone wear a wedding ring. And...I'm pretty sure that standing as long as I did, did not help my plantar facitis. The problem is that I didn't really feel the effects of all of this until it was too late.

Hopefully I will learn my lesson for Vegas. (Don't count on it).