Obla Di Obla Da

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This week will be my first week back to work. I spent a good portion of my time calling my clients yesterday. One in particular touched my heart. A lovely black family who lives in a rough area that used to be called "projects" but are no longer called "projects." I can't remember the proper terminology because my aspiration in life has never been to be politically correct.

The family has three huge bubba boys under the age of 6. Always immaculately dressed with heads shaved clean and ready smiles that blind. I always feel like I'm in the presence of little George Foreman's destined for greatness when I'm with this family.

"Bubba #3 has really missed you. Every white woman in Wal-Mart he sees we think he thinks it's you and he has a fit trying to get to them." Mom says.

I can't wait to hug my littlest Bubba who always runs to me and affectionately choke holds my carotid arteries for the first five minute of our visit.

Finally got the sutures removed this week and the foot was re-xrayed. The outside of the foot is still walking-deadish but the x-ray was fantastic. For the first time in too many years to count I have a "normal' foot. The doc did a magnificent job removing all of that excess bone. I look forward to not being in chronic pain. I look forward to wearing real shoes.

Since the swelling went down I demonstrated to the skeptical doc how I am able to move my toes side to side.

The doc was stunned. Silence. And then he spoke.

"If you ever figure out how you can use this talent in society please let me know."

The Boy has a solo in the school Christmas play. He can't remember the words but doesn't seem to care. He continues to keep me on my Frankenfoot...

"You snuck out and went across the street to Buddy's because you knew I was talking to Cindy on the phone. I was distracted and you took advantage me!"

"You were talking to your friend who died?"

"Wha?"

"You were talking to your friend who died?"

Completely missing the point as always.

"How can I talk on the phone to a friend of mine who is dead?"

"Through a miracle."

Ah. Gotta love that child-like faith.


The Boy had his annual follow-up with Orthopedics. He will have surgery in May to replace the rod that is about to telescope up and out because of growth. It has served him well since it's insertion in 2002. I only hope it hangs in there unlike the other rod. His last femur fracture in 2008 was the stuff nightmares were made of with two surgeries in two weeks, significant pain and blood loss and a non-union of fracture and surgical osteotomy requiring a bone stimulator for over a year. He also re-broke the osteotomy at art camp during origami week but who's counting.


The Baby has mastered the Wii one-armed. She loves to sit and create Mii characters for hours on end. She has been weaned successfully off of the seizure medicine. The process took well over 6 months. Since this time she has begun to talk.

A lot.

The Teenager aspirated last week and we are fighting off the ill effects with inhalers and chest percussion. I have e-mailed the pediatrician requesting an appointment tomorrow. We will probably need a chest x-ray. I am praying she does not have pneumonia.

As I sit typing this entry, Frankenfoot elevated, I wonder...how will I return to work tomorrow, take The Teenager to the pediatrician and then to the hospital for a chest x-ray while making it home by 2:10 to get The Baby off of the bus and then to The Boy's school to pick him up by 2:30pm? Never mind dinner, baths, homework, dishes....

Thank God music therapy at 4:30pm has been cancelled.

I realize my "vacation" has come to an end and I find my self humming...

Oh Bladi Oh Blah Da

My own form of music therapy.