Month 18: High-Impact Parenting

This kid is kicking my ass, people. I’m not proud to admit that I’ve met my match in a person barely taller than a coffee table. But there you have it. Between his boundless energy, increasingly stubborn nature, and filthy table manners, Miles is running me ragged. Thank GOD he’s a good sleeper (now that we’ve adjusted to daylight savings time) or I may have hurled myself off a bridge by now.

This morning I woke up with my lower back seized up like the computer after Miles has been pounding out a symphony on the keyboard. I could not move for several minutes. Creaking and groaning, I finally hoisted myself out of bed. Common sense would say to take it easy, right? Not an option in my world.

If you’ve ever wondered how many times a mom bends down in the course of a day, the answer is 8 trillion. We bend down to pick up last night’s bath towel next to the tub, to replace the liner in the diaper pail, to wipe up congealed lumps of breakfast, lunch, and dinner off the floor, to untangle the dog’s leash from the stroller wheels, etc.

That’s BESIDES all the times we bend down to pick up the child -- off the dressing room floor at Target, out of the bulk candy bin at the supermarket, off of the dog, and out of the crib, stroller, car seat, and bathtub.

And did I tell you about the time I literally had to tackle Miles to keep him from sprinting into the stock room at Old Navy? (Note to self: get a shopping cart with a WORKING seat belt next time!!) I’m actually shocked my back still works at all.

I got a massage over the weekend. The goal was relaxation. Except the muscles in my shoulders and back were all knotted up like macrame, requiring the massage therapist to use excessive amounts of force and manipulation to unknot them. About as relaxing as a third-degree sunburn, people.

This parenthood stuff is grueling on the body, there’s no doubt. Let’s see, there’s the accidental face scratches, the not-accidental hair-pulling, the bruises from being hit by flying balls. (YOU try explaining to a toddler that it’s OK to throw a foam ball but not a golf ball.)

Now I really understand all those articles in women’s magazines about the importance of taking care of yourself. I haven’t been to the doctor since Miles was born because I can’t be bothered to tack that on top of all his check-ups. I eat like crap because I spend mealtimes making sure he’s eating well. And this is the first massage I’ve had since, I don’t know, forever ago?

I guess my current back pain is my body’s way of saying, “HELLO?! Remember me??” And as I bend down to pick up stale Cheerios, tiny sneakers, and the stray Elmo truck, I do remember it, over and over.

TIP O’ THE WEEK: Ms.MindBody has some great self-care tips, like how to make quick, healthy snacks and how to build downtime into your day. Good luck with that. :)