Here I lie, in my bed, at 8:16pm. Feeling defeated. As it turns out, I should’ve enforced my idealistic ‘use the breastfeeding pillow each and every time you nurse’ rule because this time round, after baby #3, it won’t kill your wrists (like it did with the boys), it’ll kill your NECK. Sounding familiar to anyone?
My neck. It’s broken. (Not really, it just feels it).
I do things. I’m a doer. I find it hard to not.do. My Apple Watch (thanks Vitality) will tell you I walk over 10 000 steps a day – some days up to 17 000. That’s a LOT. I carry kids, hold kids, throw them onto the bed to change their nappies, lift them on my back because the ”grass is wet” or the “berries are squishy” and they don’t have their shoes on. In and out of baths, up and down bunks, sleeping children, awake children, kicking children, giggling children. They’re in my arms a lot. And as it turns out, 3 has knocked me over onto the bench (otherwise known as the injury booth).
The height of the messy bun directly coincides with the seriousness of sleep deprivation, personal hygiene and couldnt-care-less-ness. I’d say it’s pretty high.
If these is what my kids look like, can you imagine how tired I am?
And so with the help of the chiro, a neck brace, enforced attention to my posture, homeopathic goodies, neck spasm goodies, a cold pack, transact patches and hubby’s massages… I’m sloooowly on the mend. All this, constantly reminding me that we’re not immortal. Our bodies are human and weak and we can’t just keep on. This is a hard lesson for me to learn. But this lesson is timely in and of itself. Is this not the season for reflection, rest, peace and joy? Enjoy them, SLOW DOWN, and savour the days? Why YES, yes it is.
So 2017, here we are. Let’s take it slow, shall we?