So I don't have a picture of her lovely red cast to show you but Lissa broke her arm last Sunday falling off her bike. It was one month to the day since she broke her finger and had to have seven stitches. This makes three broken bones in five months! We had been saying that it was Anderson's turn next. She totally took his turn. I hope he doesn't want it.
My parents called from Mexico today to get some financial stuff worked out. There were the usual questions: How is everyone? How did it go with our French guests? (Will post on that later.) Any more broken bones? (Yes.) Hit any deer lately? (Yes. One hit Casey on the side of his car two weeks ago.) They asked all the right questions. I mean, what do you say when someone asks "How are you?" You say "Fine." You don't really want to tell them how you are, they'd go into shock. I've tried being more honest. I sometimes answer "Okay" or "Tired." Whenever I do that, the person's eyes glaze over and their facial muscles twitch. They are already dealing with their own lives, they don't want to deal with mine, too.
That's what's nice about my parents; they'd willingly deal with my life if I'd let them. But I'm a big girl now, and we're coping, just like everybody else. And there have been times (like during my first few postpartum depressions) when they did deal with my life for a while. And they did a good job of it. But still, it is my life and I want to deal with it myself when I can.
How I do go on. You probably didn't want to know any of that, you've got your own life to deal with.