We're still hanging back and waiting on Theodore's strange foot situation, since there's still no swelling, bruising, or tenderness to the touch, and he's' still in great spirits generally. The only problem is that... he can't really walk. If the issue persists into tomorrow, we've got an appointment with a doctor to get things checked out, and possibly an x-ray if he thinks it's necessary (though, good luck to the tech wrangling this little monster. That's going to be one blurry image!) For today, though, since he can't get around, it's another full day of sitting around watching movies, and eating whatever he asks for. I just feel so bad for him, I'm basically spoiling him rotten. Plus he gets to pick whatever movie he wants, which means we're officially on the sixth run-through of The Polar Express in two days. He's memorized all of the lines.
Oliver's been a great sport, letting Theodore monopolize the TV, and isn't complaining about all of the movie/couch time. He's been trying to keep Theodore comfortable, and give him some company while he rests and recovers (hopefully) and happily cleans up and eats any fruit snacks that don't make it into Theodore's mouth. We attempted a warm epsom salts bath in the hopes that perhaps it was a sore muscle, but Theodore wouldn't have any of it, and it didn't help, despite the fact that I climbed in with him. I feel a little stuck and confused, so if it still hasn't improved by tomorrow hopefully the doctor will have an answer.
For now I'm still emotionally exhausted, and my day is upside down from having to carry a two-year-old around, and comfort him whenever he requires a snuggle. It's nice sometimes, but most times not so much, since there's still plenty to get done around here. In the slow, snuggly moments where I have no choice but to cuddle on the couch and stroke his blonde hair out of his eyes, I try to relax and take in how wonderful he feels. There are jobs that can wait, too.
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