She continued to complain about it hurting off and on. And since, every time, she wanted the ace bandage over the advil, I thought it wasn’t too bad. It seemed that the ace bandage was the 8 year old version of a band aid. And it seemed suspicious that her arm seemed only to hurt at bedtime, or when I asked her to clean her room.

I looked away for a little while, and when I looked up, she and the coach were talking. And Katie was crying. She nodded, and the coach pointed to a place to the side where she should sit out. I thought she was in trouble.

Later, they went to work on the bars. Katie did an awesome job, and was the only girl in the class who could start with extended arms and do both a forward and a backward flip around the bar. A couple more were able to do one of the flips by the end, but Katie did it every time. (atta girl!)

But every time she got to the beginning of the line, she saw me, and she cried. At one point, another coach came over to talk to her and she cried. Since I couldn’t hear anything, I could just see the coaches pointing and looking stern while talking to her, I didn’t know what was going on.

It never occurred to me that her arm hurt. She was voluntarily putting all her weight on it repeatedly, and then doing tricks. Who would do that if you knew it was going to cause serious pain? Apparently, my daughter would. She cried all the way home and said that the Advil didn’t really help. She asked if I would please take her to the doctor.

The next day, moments after I told Stagg I was going to take her in to have it looked at the next day, she called from school. Now writing hurt. So off to the doc we went.

The first doctor told me that his suspicion level for a break was low after talking to her. I agreed, but really wanted to get some answer for why it was still hurting enough to move her to tears. The xray surprised him enough to send us to an orthopedist, and it turns out that she has a small vertical fracture of one of her arm bones.

No cast necessary, just rest. And an ace bandage for effect.

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Maggie had been harping on Katie about this particular issue for a long time. Katie, who is not a morning person, had a morning habit that was gross and got on Maggie’s last nerve. Maggie was right, Katie was wrong, and I made it clear that I was completely on Maggie’s side on this issue. There were consequences in place for Katie not doing what she was supposed to do. But, dealing with issue calmly and quickly was not something that was happening in our house, and the morning arguments were wearing on all of us. Screeching, name calling, yelling, whining and more yelling were a part of the morning routine that, in addition to being a lousy way to start the day, were just taking too much in a morning routine that needs them out the door at 7:01.

Lately, however, there have been fewer of these arguments, and I thought that Katie was doing what she was supposed to do. It had been wonderful to have fewer arguments in the morning, and I thought we were over the hump.

Until yesterday, when I cleaned their room.

Maggie typically comes downstairs first. She likes having the time to eat a good breakfast, and she knows that if she is down, or at least well on her way to coming down the stairs with enough time, I’ll make pancakes and even talk to her for a few minutes while she’s getting her things together. Katie saunters down a little later, willing to eat the pancakes that have already been made, happy to eat in silence while she finishes waking up.

It seems that Katie has been using her time alone upstairs to up the ante on the issue between herself and Maggie. Rather than simply continuing the behavior Maggie (and I) are so opposed to, she found a way to make it even more offensive, while at the same time hiding the evidence so that Maggie had no idea it was going on. She did it calmly, quietly, and over time.

When I moved Maggie’s bed to clean under it, I found myself staring at half a dozen dirty pull ups stashed under the head of the bed.

When we visited them in Florida, we decided that Stagg and my dad would go on the tour while my mom and I hung out with the girls. At the last minute, my mom encouraged me to go so she could have the girls all to herself. And so I went. On the drive over, we talked about the man who had bought the company and then had driven his Segway off a cliff and died. It made us curious and a little apprehensive about what we were going to be doing.

The first part of the tour was humbling. Segways are very intuitive, but initially, it is hard to get the hang of balancing, starting and stopping. We had to prove our proficiency in the store where the tour started before we left for the actual tour, and all of us were a little nervous that this experience was going to end up being 2 hours of frustration. We wobbled and wiggled and eventually made our way through the slalom course and started and stopped without running the guys running the show over. (well, I came close, but they stopped me in time).

Within five minutes of being on the street, though, it was easy and fun. Our line of 8 Segways tooled along the sidewalk, making sure not to hit our wheels on anything in the way and got to see West Palm Beach, and then Palm Island from a unique perspective.

We went over a bridge, up and down streets, and 20 minutes into the tour, we felt like pros. Although we had been cautioned against using our phones and cameras in any way while riding, we became comfortable enough to pull them out and try to sneak pictures while moving. Each of us was caught more than once, and our tour guide, Mike, reminded us that there was a safety issue involved. So we got better at sneaking.

As we became more proficient on the vehicles, we were allowed to go fast and feel the push back as we topped out at 14 MPH. It was a strange sensation, and felt like we were going so much faster than we actually were. The Segway bar in the front tries to slow you down by forcing you into a more upright position, which slows it down, but it felt like the wheels were just getting ahead of you because you were going so fast.

The day was gorgeous, the weather was warm and we had a great time. We raced each other a little bit, tried to challenge each other to see who could do the detail work with more finesse. By the end of the tour, we completely understand how the man drove himself off a cliff. Segways are giant toys, and it is hard not to play with them.

Of course, the email accepting me into the program went to my spam box. I found out that my friend had been named an ambassador, and assumed I hadn’t. While I was, and am, really happy for her, I completely sucked the joy out of the conversation didn’t show it well because I was feeling very sorry for myself and pouting a little dejected that the 3 Day had apparently decided I wasn’t worthy. …and I wonder where my girls get their drama queeniness from. yeek. This was not a proud moment for me.

But, it turns out I was on the list, and I’m an Ambassador. So, yay, me! Expect more posts about the 3 Day. Maybe you’ll even consider joining my team ($25 discount until 3/31!) and walking with us. The 2009 3 Day was an incredible experience, and look forward to the 2011 3 Day, which starts 7 months and 3 days from today.

I promise to try very, very hard to keep my temper tantrums to a minimum.

If you don’t want to walk, and now feel guilty because you don’t want to, please feel free to make yourself feel better by making a donation. It will help. I promise. Even if you don’t feel guilty, it will still make you feel better.

I walked about 7 miles today, after a 3 day rest. The rest is because last week I hurt my ankle. Or my leg– I’m not really clear on exactly where the pain is coming from specifically, but I am clear that it hurts. And the pain was back during today’s walk. So I am coming to terms with the fact that this walk is going to hurt- not in an abstract, “gee, I might get some blisters or my knees might get sore or something might happen,” but clearly and specifically knowing that my leg/ankle is going to be hurting while I walk. And I’m trying to be ok with that.

It is scary, to think about the pain coming my way. I don’t like thinking about it. And I really don’t like considering that all the other hurts might still come on top of what I am expecting and I might get to know pain in ways that I haven’t known it before. But it is ok. I know I can push my body to a certain point, and if I get beyond that, and beyond the extra, secret store of I-can-do-this-ness, there are sweep vans. And if I really need to, I can take them. But I’d really rather not.

It is my plan to walk each and every step of these 60 miles. And I believe I will do it. Its just going to hurt. But that’s ok.

Katie missed Thursday and Friday of last week. The first day, she laid in bed, the second day, she was mostly fine and did crafts and drew pictures. She was very sad to miss all her friends, and devastated that she couldn’t go to the play date we had scheduled for Friday afternoon. There was crying and flailing and attempts at negotiation and bargaining. It was so hard for her to understand that she couldn’t play because she hadn’t gone to school; that germs are things we don’t want to share with our friends.

Maggie’s fever, which was actually higher than Katie’s, seemed to affect her less yesterday. She mostly lay in bed, but was able to make it to the library and do a little homework, too. She read a whole book, got dressed and was in decent spirits. Today, her fever is just about gone, and she is anxious to get back to school. For the second time in her three years at school, she’s missed picture day.

And I’ve been faced with the unending quandary about when to call the doctor. Is a fever enough? What about these sore throats they complain about? Is it strep? Or just the general fever virus that makes them feel icky all over and they notice it more when they swallow? So far, although I’ve had the phone in hand, and some numbers dialed, I haven’t made an appointment. The fevers seem to be going away on their own too quickly to be anything other than weirdness.

If all continues the way it is now, it looks like both girls will be back in school tomorrow for the first time in a week. And since I volunteered at the school this morning, I got to hear about the strep, stomach bugs, flu, pink eye and general fever disease going around. And I can only wonder how long both of them will be in school for this stretch.

When Derby has visited, it has been easier to walk him along the main road because there are fewer smells of both the human and canine variety. So I thought the same would be true for Lucy. My plan was to walk along the sidewalk in a pleasant stroll, Katie and I holding hands and talking while Lucy happily trotted along beside us.

Not so much.

Both Lucy and Katie were very excited about the idea of a walk. Katie desperately wanted to hold Lucy’s leash and be the real walker. Lucy was fine with Katie holding the leash, but also wanted to be in charge, she was able to pull Katie wherever she wanted to go. Katie managed to say on her feet, but only barely.

As I struggled with Lucy and her poor leash manners, Katie noticed the dandelions which have sprung up in the grass. She decided to pick all of them so she could wish for everything in the world. This meant that Lucy was pulling me forward (and into the street, into yards and into the air) while Katie was calmly wandering off looking for her wishes, and then trying to find places to stash them all.

Finally, we were able to cross the street and make it to the sidewalk on the main road. I have walked this stretch of road many times, but usually in off hours when there is very little traffic. The addition of cars and trucks doing 55 or so made it a different experience. Also, I learned that one of the people along the way has a pit bull who happened to be outside as we walked by. Lucy was unconcerned, but I was reassured to see that not only was the dog tied to the doghouse, but the doghouse was chained to the tree. Katie also didn’t notice the dog, and kept wanting to wander into the yard to pick the dandelions she saw there.

We cut the walk short and went home. I think I need to get a training collar for Lucy today, and an ice pack for my arm.

We didn’t however, ask for good weather. And though a bad day at the beach is still better than a good day away from it, this is both the coldest and the windiest vacation we’ve taken. The other day, there were a few of us sitting on the beach, and the winds were so bad that I imagine I know a bit about what a sandstorm looks like.  There were waves of sand blowing on the beach, and looking down the shore, there was a haze from sand that was blowing more freely.  The girls had boogie boards in the water and did a decent job with them, considering that when they were out of the water, they flew like kites.

Today’s high is 64, but we won’ hit it until 5 or so. And, that is a full 10 degrees warmer than yesterday’s high, and the winds are blowing at about half speed as compared to yesterday, so it is going to feel good. Maybe not swim in the ocean good, but good. Also? It isn’t snowing here. And it snowed in Atlanta yesterday. In April.

There have been other maladies here, as well.  Cramps, certain schedule that are apparently synchronized to produce maximum grumpiness and irritablilty and some other things.  And while I’ve been writing this, Lisa walked by and said that she had just scratched her neck and a hunk of skin came off.  She claims it in’t leprosy, but I’m not convinced.

Yes, you read that right.

All this time, I had been cooking dinner. It is important to know that my oven is old and has venting issues that mean that whenever I am cooking something and open it, even if nothing it burnt, the smoke alarm goes off.  So, when I opened the oven door to tend to the chicken, the BEEP BEEP BEEP just ticked me off and I ignored it because it happens almost every day.  Little did I know that there was something that looked frighteningly like this:  going on on the other side of the wall.

So I calmly walk into the living room with a hammer (literally around Maggie and the burning brush) to turn off the smoke detector.  It really confused me that it wouldn’t go off until I started to smell something… amiss.  By this time, Maggie has dropped the burning tissue onto a snowman indoor doormat thing that Lisa lent me.  The fire was out by this time, but Maggie is still speechless and starting to panic and sob.  The rug is burnt, there are burnt wisps of tissue flying around and all I can come up with to say is “Maggie, why?  Maggie, what?” And the smoke detector is still going off.

Poor Maggie shook and cried for a good 10 minutes.  Stagg dealt with the wreckage while I held Maggie, made sure she wasn’t hurt and then very calmly went over some basic fire safety rules.  Like paper and fire is not a good combination, and fire is hot and when you accidentally start a fire in the house, even if you think you can handle it, CALL FOR HELP.   Meanwhile, Maggie is trying to explain that she knew there was trouble when the tissue burst into flame, but she thought she could blow it out.  She said she tried really hard, and blew and blew, but the fire just got bigger.

Stagg told them that if they can’t respect the candles, we won’t burn them anymore. I told him that we would still burn candles, but the girls wouldn’t be allowed in any room with a candle burning in it anymore.  This, of course, brought on a whole new set of sobs because, “Like my bedroom?!  That is so unfair!  I just know that you are going to light a candle in my bedroom and then I WON’T BE ABLE TO SLEEP!”   I’m not sure, but I think I’ve got me a drama queen over here.

Meanwhile, Katie had been looking through a cookbook for kids.  So while all the chaos is going on, Katie is running through it to show me pictures of the new things she wants to cook with me.  She has no idea what they are, but the sure do look like fun.  And by the way, what’s going on in here?

We got very lucky. Maggie managed to drop the tissue before it burnt her, and there were so many things that could have gone wrong(er) and ended up with a really big fire.  Instead, we got comedy gold.