crooked.

That is the adjective I will now forever use to describe my left big toe.

Thought it would be great to get out of the house and go to a yoga class last night. Shawn was set to put Timothy to bed; I was excited to have a relaxing break in routine. Knowing how tired I was should have been enough to send a message to my brain that a handstand was not in the cards, but it seemed so doable. When I tipped over to the left and tumbled down, I thought I had just bumped my head, but looking down at my tingling foot, my big toe was bent at an awkward angle and I knew something wasn't right.

After some exchanging of cars, we got our hands on an automatic that I could drive to the hospital alone so we wouldn't have to drag Timothy from his happy slumber. Although they had told us by phone I needed to come in so they could straighten it out, the doctor explained once I was there that there was nothing he could do with a broken toe--it'll just heal like this.

I need to start thinking more positive thoughts--I think I am somehow doing this to myself.