28 and counting

Being very excited to finally get a date with my husband, I put on some short shorts and a kinda skimpy top and wedge heels, and I looked like a cute little momma.  He even said I looked great, with that lovely twinkly smile that I rarely see these days because he's overworked.  We walked to the Downtown area of our hometown for a late dinner, and I had a skip in my step the whole way.

The most glaring adornments I wore tonight, however, were the 28 bruises that are scattered all over my skin.  If bruises were ever considered sexy, I'd have been the hottest girl in town tonight.  Luckily, the restaurant was dim, and so were the streets, so no one had to see the mutilation.  I really only noticed how many I had when I was changing to go to bed.

I honestly don't know how I could have gotten some of those bruises, a few of which are in very strange places.  Some of them are from practicing elbows and kicks with my trainer just this afternoon.  But some of them had to have been from my little ones, who pinch and squeeze parts of my legs that rarely get much action.

Nevertheless, I own my bruises because they mean I'm giving it my all, whether because I elbowed hard during training or because I require little to no personal space apart from my children.  So, 28 and counting sounds like a good place to start the day tomorrow.  I wonder how many more I'll wear to bed tomorrow night.