Forward Progress

Well, after nearly a week of medication-induced nausea and brain fog along with ridiculous levels of stress and no workouts whatsoever, life seems to have stabilized.  *Knocks on wood*  My grandmother is doing well and was released to go home today BY CAR.  This is in no small part due to the fantastic care she received at the hospital down here.  We're all nervous about a relapse and she'll have to come back in a month for another procedure, but right now she's much better than she was before.  The doctor down here has given us all hope, which is a wonderful thing to have.

I made my triumphant return to the gym.  It felt great to be back, but I know when I do cardio tomorrow it's going to be rough.  Hopefully that'll be the only horrendously difficult part....a certain Diva was NOT at all happy about being left in the Kids Club this morning.  There was screaming, there was crying, there was a death grip- almost literally as she had me around the neck.  It took 3 of the girls to drag her away as I disappeared into the workout studio, knowing that she'd be fine in about 30 seconds.  She seems to be doing this more and more on Sundays when her bestest friend at the gym isn't there.  When I returned to pick her up, she was happily playing in a fairy costume and talking on a toy cell phone......until she realized that she had to take off the costume and leave it behind.  OH.  MY.  STARS.  Talk about an epic battle.  Seriously, it was legendary.  Someone had left the door open to the rest of the gym and Eva went running out there, screaming and flailing all the way.  When I caught up to her, she threw herself on the ground and began shrieking as if I was trying to pull out her toenails.  This might have attracted some attention.....FROM EVERYONE IN THE GYM.  I managed to get a hold of her as she was screaming, crying, and flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water.  It took what seemed like forever to get her calmed down, back to the Kids Club, out of the costume, and apologizing to the girls in there for screaming at them too.  Some days there's nothing quite so humbling as being the parent of a child in the 2-3 year old range.

I've come to find that one of the great things about this age is that there's rarely ever a day with her that's ALL bad.  She has her sweet moments, too.  Today my husband spent the entire day working on the hallway bathroom, and Eva wanted nothing more than to help him in any way that she could.  She genuinely loves to help us out, and she's just in heaven when she gets to help her Daddy with anything.  She gleefully fetches him tools and holds things for him.  It really is a joy to watch.

Early on in our day, these words came out of my child's mouth:  "I'm a princess!", as she twirled around in her outfit.  My eyes darted across the room to meet my husband's, me mouthing the word "NOOOOOO!" in horror.  But then she did this, so I guess I shouldn't freak out just yet:

Ready to help Daddy!

Holding the cement board up while Daddy makes some cuts.

Having the best time ever.

Look out.  She knows how to use that.

Testing out the trowel for Daddy.  And yes, that's our old toilet in the bathtub, because we're classy like that.  It'll be making it's departure from the house this week, I promise.

Looky!  Tile!  Woohoo!  With a little luck (if my husband is still able to move tomorrow), maybe that part of the reno will be done in the next day or two.  Progress!