Perhaps I am the only one who feels she should get the party when a baby turns one. Yes, I made it. The sleepless nights, the endless feedings, diaper changes blah blah blah. Oh well. I was feeling pretty good about our little family party on Sunday and then at mass Monday morning I threw my back out. BIG TIME. The barbabyian was trying to propel himself out of my arms (because he a)has no fears b)thinks he can fly) and I sort of lurched and put him down in one awkward motion that ended with my back seizing up. I literally could not move. I finally limped out of mass stage whispering to the visiting school kid, "Just bring him back to the vestibule!" Out of control.
So, now we are having one of those days when I can't do anything and my house is a disaster area. Oh well, it makes me feel like I do a lot around here, because when I don't do it, things get to looking real bad, real fast.
Why is my back doing this now? This is something I have been thinking about a lot as I alternate sitting, lying prone, and putting my feet on the couch while lying on the floor. Between the advils this is what I have come up with:
1) I am not as young as I used to be and I haven't been as nice to my back as I should be. That probably has a lot to do with the barbabyian who has been a "hip ranger" as of late. Doesn't.Want.To.Be.Put.Down.Ever. Not really cute anymore seeing as he takes to flying out of my arms at any given moment or lurching for anything that strikes his fancy out of reach. I have been performing contortions of all types recently and it has come back to haunt me.
(Dishes while holding baby? Sure! Change loads while holding baby? Sure! Vacuum while holding baby? Sure! Cook while holding baby? Sure. Go up and down every aisle of Costco while holding baby under my arm in the airplane position? SURE!)
Everything is an adventure with this guy. He may not be walking yet but he climbs, crawls, and gets into everything! Toilets, bookshelves, toys, cupboards. He escapes outside because his brilliant siblings leave the doors open. We found him upstairs on the bunk bed on his birthday when no one else was up there. It was the lower bunk, thank goodness, but he knows how to get to the top bunk too. He even climbed under the minivan. Talk about bad body mechanics trying to get him out!
Public restrooms are places of pure torture and with my caffeine and water habit I have to suffer them daily. Trying to go while holding the barbabyian has made for some really awkward moments let's just say.
2)Jesus is trying to tell me something. You see, I don't exercise at all. I have had this little agreement with the big guy that I call "Body by Jesus." We made a deal. I was going to take out the time to go to daily mass and do mental prayer and spiritual reading and he wasn't going to let me get too heavy. The way I saw it I didn't have time to exercise, it couldn't be a priority, so he had to help me. I would do my part of course, watching what I ate and trying to eat and drink healthy, but he was supposed to help me out. I really don't exercise unless my mental health requires it, which is usually while pregnant. When pregnant with the barbabyian I walked every single day because if I didn't there was hell to pay. But October is coming on, the cruelest month for me mental health wise between shorter days, allergies galore and fatigue from the beginning of school. So, now that I have been shown how much help my core muscles need I have no excuse. Exercise has to become a priority so I can take care of my family. End of Story. So, Body by Jesus is taking on new meaning. Now, he's gotta help me figure out how I can add one more thing to my insane schedule. Go Jesus go!
