Friday morning I bent over to pick up Eric. He was sitting on the kitchen floor in silent protest about having a drink/eating breakfast/getting ready for school, and he beseechingly held his arms up to me with those pleading eyes, and I bent over, grasped him around his midsection, and began to straighten up.
It was then I heard a snap.
Not to mention what I felt.
This is what I said:
This is what I said (silently):
And, because I’m like that, I also had thoughts about how ironic it was that I could manifest in such a sudden way my thoughts about burdens and obligations and the identity I’ve assumed all these years blah blah blah.
So I had a visit with my chiropractor, who usually does a nice relaxing Reiki session with yummy-smelling oils made from plants and flowers, and took various pain relievers and did yoga and didn’t feel much better. There was a concern about that snapping sound, and I kept reliving it. I have a whole new understanding about people plagued with back problems; it really does affect EVERYTHING.
So after 5 Tylenol-with-codeines (not all at once), about 3 Motrins, an expensive New York City cocktail I did not pay for, a fair bit of whining and complaining, lots of yoga and a scalding-hot bath, I am better. My brush with death has been averted! Alert the press! Although I have been rendered even more inflexible than before, if possible, so the yoga is going to be with me for awhile.
LESSON: When children reach a weight of 30 lbs and/or can walk, let them.