First off, let me just say...my cousin (my "pal" all through my childhood) is the best. She teaches English as a second (or subsequent) language to college students, and has gone abroad to do the same in the past. She also has a massage chair, and magic fingers.
See, I decided to prove to my kids that I could still do a standing backbend back walkover. I totally can, by the way...but when I did an inverted roll after the backbend, I think I made a poor choice. It happens. BUT, I can still do it. So there!
Anyway, I tweaked something in my back, which normally wouldn't bother me except B is part monkey lately, and always wanting to jump/climb/hang on me. I'm appreciative; it's much better than the alternative, but it's not exactly pleasant.
That's where my cousin comes in. I went over to her house (we're practically neighbors...almost) and she worked on my back for the longest time. It. Was. Delightful. And it helped...until I did my nightly workout. I had to modify it. And that sucks.
I maintain that my injury has nothing to do with getting old, but instead, has everything to do with inappropriate space in which to complete my tricks. Let's go with that, okay? Thanks.
After the boys went to bed tonight, I looked up wedding stuff for a little while (read: I got on that horrid habit-forming Pinterest and stalked anyone I knew who had a wedding recently or has one in the near/not so near future. And then I sent a picture-loaded email while sending her a message on Facebook and text messaging back and forth. I'm so helpful! I did, however, find this:
And she loved it! So all was not lost (or mostly annoying) after all!
In an attempt to continue my workout streak, I modified some of the things I usually do, so I don't lose any ground. Afterwards, I decided a nice soak in a hot bath would be delightful, and I was right! It was wonderful until I climbed into bed. I pulled up my duvet cover (another great story), and promptly knocked over my cup full of icy cold water. It exploded on my phone charger and when I picked it up, the styrofoam had busted out of the bottom. With every step to the bathroom, I was doused with the remaining water in the cup: my thigh, my knee, my shin, my little piggies...all got a nice wake-up call. Exactly what you want before you go to sleep. Super!
My duvet cover: I decided to wash it today after B spilled something that never should have been in my room. Washing it? Not a problem. Putting my comforter back in its "envelope" was problematic. I've done it before, but it seems like, no matter which way I put the comforter back inside, it was the wrong way. At one point, I was wearing my duvet cover, trying to figure out where the corner was; the corner that subsequently grabbed hold of my head and made me really stuck. All the while, B's laughing hysterically from the couch. Finally, I got out the tape measure to determine which way would be the right way, and was pretty pleased with myself.
I had entirely way too many "moments" today. They can be good, even great, breaks from the daily grind, from the reality that we take life entirely too seriously. But today? Today, I felt like I didn't have a brain that was fully connected, and I dislike that feeling. I'm so thrilled that the boys start school tomorrow, but I'm kind of not so thrilled that I have to wait another few weeks. I'm grateful for the time, but I feel like my brain needs to get back into the swing of things.
Someone remind me of that when I complain about how my brain is entirely too busy and I never have any time...
Just like Jessie Spano and all those caffeine pills in the greatest episode of "Saved By The Bell" EVER.
Aubs
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