Just lucky I guess

I know I should feel unlucky to be sitting in a wet cast, but it could be worse, so I'm not going to feel pity anymore. The update on my foot is that I definitely have a bad bruise on my bone, but the swelling caused the doctor to not be able to see if there was a stress fracture or not. So he wrapped my foot up with the aforementioned "wet cast" and said to come back in a week. Problem is, they didn't have any appointments until July 12. So I'm stuck with this wet cast for 12 days, unless I go crazy and decide to take it off myself after a week. We shall see.

But the foot accident is not why I'm writing. I'm writing because I wanted to write about how lucky I am to have such an awesome husband.  I'm saying this all of a sudden because I came across a blog wherein the mommy writer, a fellow working mom, does not start dinner until 8 p.m. She's home at 5:30 mind you, but hubby is not. And for some reason, hubby doesn't cook dinner between the time he gets home and when she puts baby to bed. So after all of that playtime and bedtime she is the one who has to then cook the dinner. Our evening routine couldn't be more different. For the past 10 months, I've gotten home before Keith, played with Cole, feed Cole, bathe Cole, and put him to sleep. I do not then trudge into the kitchen and whip up something for dinner. Thanks to my husband's job at a culinary college and the culinary skills of his mother, my husband is a pretty damn good cook. I can follow a recipe, using the listed ingredients, but Keith can create a recipe using whatever ingredients he has. I guess his creativity as a photographer and his exposure to good food and cooking have helped him be creative in the kitchen.

It wasn't always this way. We used to cook together. And there were nights when one of us would just cook for the other. But more and more, I became the sous chef and Keith turned into the executive chef. Then enter bed rest. Keith was forced to cook dinner every night for four months with no help from me. I was the loyal diner - never a food critic. Whatever he put in front of me was delicious, because it was made with love. Bed rest was hard for me, but it was stressful for him. He had to juggle work while also managing a household with a pregnant wife. But in the end, it was good practice.

It was good practice because when I gave birth to Cole, I couldn't even think about making dinner. I was a feeding machine. And in those early months, a feeding would last a long time, sometimes 45 minutes.  I used to actually have what we dubbed a "breastfeeding station" where I had a book on a stand, food and water on the shelf next to me, and of course the house phone and my cell phone within reach. And breastfeeding took so much out of me - I was always starving, thirsty and exhausted. So Keith continued his culinary duty and is now the unofficial chef of the house.

So even though I hurt my foot without even moving my foot, I have a great support system here. I am absolutely the luckiest woman in High Falls.