"I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow."

It's been one of those weeks, where one by one each member of this family has gotten on my nerves so badly that I would have gladly voted them off the island, if given the opportunity.  And around day six, when even my precious six month old started to wear me down a little, I had to ask myself.... Is it really ALL of THEM or is it ME?  I hate asking myself that question.  Sometimes, I make up excuses for everyone else... Bert's just stressed with work, so he's taking it out on me;  Her Highness is bored, not seeing her friends everyday;  Thunder is sleepy, since he stayed up too late last night;  Lightning's had too much sugar today;  Hail is just being... well, Hail;  And Flash Flood must be cutting a tooth.  Those excuses worked for another day or so.  But when I screamed at our sweet doggie for having the nerve to scratch the back door in request for fresh cold water and food, I realized, it's not THEM... It's this heat!  No, really, it's ME. 

Wednesday, I hoped going to Zumba would help work out some of the hormones and stress.  I've enjoyed going to Zumba for the last three weeks.  One of my best friends is teaching, and many of my girlfriends are attending the class with me, so it's been a super fun way to sweat and not realize just how hard we're working. But on Wednesday night, kharma decided to bite me for being so fussy with my family all week.

Not 10 minutes into the class, while doing a very simple side-step move, something snapped in my right knee.  It felt as if there were a rubber band in there, and it had been pulled as far as it could, then let go.  Pain shot all through my knee, and ran up and down my leg for a moment.  I continued through the class, trying my best not to put any pressure on the right side.  For those of you who have been to Zumba, you can imagine how ridiculous I looked, trying to keep all pressure on the left side.  As if my moves weren't goofy enough.  I used to consider myself a dancer.  I once thought of myself as a half-way decent athlete.  I think all my coordination must have been sucked from my body, when delivering these five children, because when I first began doing Zumba, I was dumbfounded by how hard I had to concentrate to do the moves.  It was slowly coming back to me though.  I was finally starting to feel more comfortable doing the cha-cha and the mamba.  That is, until Wednesday night.

I hobbled in the door nearly in tears.  Bert made a giant icepack and forced me to sit for 20 minutes.  The next morning, my knee was HUGE.  And continued to swell throughout the day.  By Friday, the swelling went down a bunch, but the pain was still there.  Since then, the swelling has continued to diminish, and the pain is not as severe.  But, I still cannot straighten my leg or bend it fully.

I haven't been to the doctor yet, because I wanted to see if it would feel better on its own.  And it is.  Just not as quickly as I would like. 

The fact is, I'm getting old.  Thinking of 29 as old is laughable to some.  But when I compare myself at 29 to myself at 19.... I could eat nothing but frozen pizza and popcorn, work out without ever warming up, stay up until 2am, eat an entire tube of cookie dough for a snack, then get up for an 8:00 class and feel great.  Now, I'm having to make sure and eat enough fiber to stay "regular," work out like a geriatric, go to bed by 8:00 and drink two cups of coffee just to see straight.  And if cookie dough comes near my lips, it shows up on my thighs by 8am.  Oh, 19 year old self.... I sure do miss you.  Sigh.

Then, on top of a hormonally wild emotional roller coaster kinda week, this morning I tried to upload 175 pictures and videos to my computer.  I got a new iPhone.  Not the newest new one, but the newer old one.  I previously had an iphone that was a hand-me-down from a friend.  It died, as all technology does in this house.  Storms and technology just don't mix.  So, since we were eligible for an upgrade, Bert got me another iphone.  This morning I was planning to sit down and upload all the photos and videos from the last few weeks.  We celebrated Her Highness' and Lightning's birthdays, and did some other fun summery things, that I captured with my iphone, since the camera on there shoots pretty good photos and video.  And since my camera sucks worse than a mosquito, I was happy to have such a clear and convenient way to capture our memories. 

I plugged that sucker into my computer this morning, but since it was the first time I had, it asked me if I would like to "restore" my settings.  I skimmed down through the tiny print and saw, "restore contacts."  "Heck yes I do!" I said as I clicked away, because at the AT&T store they were unable to retrieve my contacts for some reason, when they sold us the new phone, so I've been using a phone book, (gasp!) to look up numbers. 

As my computer and phone began restoring one another, they forgot to mention that in the process, ALL NEW PHOTOS AND VIDEOS WOULD BE LOST.  LOST.  As in GONE.  FOREVA. Squints' voice, (from Sandlot) keeps ringing in my head, "FOR-EV-ER. FOR-EV-ER. FOR-EV-ER."  A hard lump filled my throat when I tried to swallow.  My mind began racing as a montage from the last month played:
There were the videos of Her Highness and Thunder performing a duet as "Taylor Swiss and Justin Beeper."  ...the video of Lightning plugging his ears as everyone sang Happy Birthday... Her Highness making a wish and blowing out her seven candles.... Hail swimming across the pool... Lightning riding his new "big boy" bike for the first time... Thunder learning how to dive....

  I immediately unplugged my phone and called customer service.  I explained, fighting the quiver in my voice, what had happened.  "Surely there's something we can do to retrieve them!  There were 175 pictures and videos from my kids' birthdays!  Surely!"  I could practically hear the lady rolling her eyes as she explained, for the third time, "No.  Not since you have a Dell.  But if you had an Apple computer, we probably could have.  I'm sorry."  That's when I started to cry.  And I didn't stop for about an hour. 

Bert proposed we throw another round of parties and video it all again.  Her Highness was on board for that. I rolled my eyes at them both.  I do have a couple photos that were taken with my crapola camera.  But, they're fuzzy.  And I realize that the memories were made, but as I already mentioned, with the rest of my body falling apart, I'm afraid my mind is to go next. 

(Enter background music from Gone with the Wind, and read the remainder of this post with a Scarlett O'Hara accent)

So, until I can get over my loss,  I will be hostessing a Pity Party in my honor.   You're all invited.  Gifts of chocolate and Chardonnay will be accepted. Along with mopping.  And folding laundry.  Yes, surely all of those things would make poor lil' me feel better.  We can even party for your pity if you want.  Just grab a hankie (and a bottle of Chardonnay) and come on over. 

I'm quite ridiculous, I do realize.  I blame my heritage.

Now, if you will excuse me... It's time for Rhett, err, I mean, Bert to bring me an icepack for my knee.  And if I can look pitiful enough, perhaps he'll give me a massage too.  Or, he may just say, in typical Rhett/Bert fashion, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."