Sunday, January 2, 2011

They Shoot Horses, Don't They? Oh and Happy New Year.

I've been neglecting this little blob. And also the washing-up, the laundry, the craft table, the menu-plan... Christmas has come and gone in a blurry round of parties and visitors and road trips, and with Keith on holiday, and all the kiddo activities on hold, we're out of the normal flow of things. Which should be really nice.

But is not.

Something has gone awol in my back. It feels, I could swear, like a small horse with a hard, pointy hoof KICKED me a good one right in the middle of my spine. I'm pretty sure this didn't happen. But whatever muscle is doing a spastic jig has sent me under, into the whingey, frowny, land of pain and hot baths and painkillers, and because of my dark past, into the Bad Place where my brain whispers 'This is it! The big one! The one where you have to recalibrate life so that you never have to pick anything up or bend over or carry small people! The alternative future that SUCKS!'

And when you live with delicious naughtiness like this:

the main requirement is ENERGY. Why is Teddy wearing undies on his head? Why is Ivy constructing a tower of hats? Why did this game require that all the clothes leave the cupboard for the floor? I can't even flip this photo sideways. Could you just turn your head to the side? and while you're at it, fold my washing?

Yesterday, I hit the wall and hit the painkillers. Today, I feel a little better and can sense a return to a normal persons feeling of general impending doom, rather than the imminent collapse of the fabric of my world. In the spirit of the old saying: Why hit yourself on the head with a hammer? Because it feels so damn good when it's over... I embrace the onset of 2011 with the fervent hope that it will be less painful than yesterday, and contain no phantom horse assaults.

And you, my inter-webby buddies, I wish for you the same blessed future.


  1. I know that pain way too well. Voltaren 25, sneak in an extra one.

    I hope the pain goes and never comes back.

    MY kids love doing that to the clothes too and my mum wonders why their drawers are not neatly folded.

  2. bugger. bum.poop.poo bum. awful place to be. the sunlight creeps through the blinds and you will wake up feel better. sending my residual cortizone out to you rach.,,....

  3. I say opiates. Get to the doctors and get some proper drugs. in the mean time- my deepest sympathies.

  4. This is the makings of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week. Sending good pain-go-away vibes through the ether. And others that hope that the munchkins discover that putting clean clothes IN the cupboards is just as much fun. x

  5. I'm with Cath; you need drugs and sympathy. And a big feet up rest. Poor wee petal.

  6. Toots, this year you need to get that back fixed up! Being completely naive on this front, is this do-able? You can't give into it! You will win! Hope you are feeling better. xxx

  7. Aw, Rachael! So sorry you're feeling crap...
    Just chuck that laundry over here, and I'll get to it first thing. Like mine.

    Wishing you a speedy recovery, the best of drugs, and great lots of Wiggles videos.

  8. It's called back pain, but it radiates throughout the entire body and beyond. Here's hoping that nothing other than gentle hands, soft cushions and foaming bath water come anywhere near you back in 2011. And you know about my miracle cure for all ills. Bx

  9. I'm praying to the Flying Spaghetti Monster that your pain flies away soon. Because when undies on the head isn't 100% funny, something is seriously wrong. Happy New Spine!

  10. That sucks Rach. It's tricky enough with little ones without being in pain too. Huge sympathy from here.

    I had a week of massive neck/shoulder pain a while back - couldn't even pick up or feed the baby unless Alex put her on a cushion for me... useless I was.

    In the end I went the painkillers too - the neurofen worked for me, but I gather you've had this back thing before, so you know what works for you.

    I really hope you are better again soon.

    Stuff the mess - get Keith to clean it up when he returns!


  11. Yikes, sounds perfectly awful you poor thing xx


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.