Ole Miss and radial head fracture

Sorry to leave you hanging, dear readers.  If you didn't hear yet, let me fill you in on where the adventure is headed to next. (drum roll) Mississippi!

It's not Austin, but we are pretty darn happy. And surprised! We weren't expecting that. It's a great program, it's 1,200 miles closer to Texas, it's warmer, it's cheaper, it's ER.

So we were really, really grateful and happy on that Friday Match day. We rode that high all the way until Monday when I went out for an evening jog in some unseasonably warm March weather, fell and broke a bone in my arm (I wish I could blame it on a crack in the sidewalk, but I think I tripped over my own feet).

Let me translate what a broken arm means. I can still drive. I can wash my hair with one hand. I can awkwardly wiggle into my clothes. After two weeks I can now type with just a little tenderness. But I cannot pick up the baby. That's right, I have a three month old, and I cannot pick him up.

C.J. is now Mr. Mom. He's burping and changing diapers and washing dishes and everything else (placing baby in nursing position...in the middle of the night...oh, it's bad, folks.). Nana is cooking and cleaning. These poor people are exhausted going to their jobs and doing mine too.

We've hired help - my new left arm is named Gabby. She comes every day because I cannot take care of the kids alone (ladies, make note, go out jogging, tell your husband you tripped and broke your arm and you too can get a daytime nanny!). And did I mention that I broke my left arm and that I am left-handed? 

I wish I could now say "April Fools!" But I'm not making this up. It's a fiasco. So ridiculous it is funny. Well, it will be funny. Some day.

But I'm on the mend. It should be back to normal in a few short weeks, which leaves plenty of time for packing. At least I didn't break both arms. It could be much worse.

And even a broken arm cannot dampen our mood. We are thrilled to be moving on to the next stage, to be moving closer to family to be fulfilling a dream that's been a long time coming. C.J. is over the moon. Five more weeks of rotations, and we will be calling him Dr. Winckler.