Seven Quick Takes: Red walkers and purple shadows

1.  "Mommy, you have such a pretty purple color under your eyes."  I received this compliment while wincing my way out of bed, right after trying to plant a kiss on the top of a toddler's head right as she decided to jump (this must happen at least five time per kid).  "Yep, and red's my favorite color!  This is a good day!" I mused out loud while feeling my bloodied lip.  As hoped, my toddler did not pick up on the sarcasm and beamed happily at her colorful mama.   It's all in the perspective I guess.  The shadows under my eyes are a pretty purple color today.  It could be an ugly yellow, but it's purple.  That's a plus. :)

2.  A minus is that I'm in pain.  Back pain.  Part of it's my fault.  Part of it is the fault of my body, outside of my direct control, as much as I will it to be otherwise...

It should be a known fact that individuals with moderate to severe RA in their hip should never, ever, no matter how good they are feeling or how great their hubris-filled amnesia, attempt kickboxing.  Which, as you might know, is a highly esteemed form of self-defense.  Case in point:

Alas, I did not follow this well-known, basic principle about not kickboxing when you have a bad hip.  I had a great time punching and kicking at imaginary enemies in my living room as my kids alternately roared approval and demanded snacks, pushed myself too much (as usual), and was fine till I wasn't anymore.

So now, I'm wanting my walker back.  The one I lent to my 97 year old grandmother: shiny red, with hand brakes, a basket, and a seat that folds down.  First got it while pregnant with Cecilia and was diagnosed with "mild back pain" and given Tylenol.  Since I was mysteriously couldn't walk with "mild back pain," I was also given an walker.  Gosh, I loved/hated that thing.

After delivery, the MRI found the deterioration that served as validation that I actually (no, really) had an issue.  Which was a good thing.

3.  Days like these are how I earned this my handicapped parking permit.  :D  It's one of the small, bright perks of having a chronic condition.  I try not to abuse having it... though it can be hard not to when you're trying to find parking while running late.  I always try to remember how it feels not to be able to walk well, and on the days I'm fine... I don't tend to use it.  But today... it's out, baby.

4.  How's that song go?  "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 82...."

Yes, I let my daughters listen to some Taylor Swift songs.  Even if I didn't allow them to, the neighborhood kids are playing them (and far more questionable things) loudly from their i-pods in the playground.

Despite being a homeschooler, I don't wish to overshelter my kids: my theory is that they need to build up an immune system in more ways than one.  Since normal living will have them encountering all kinds of pop songs, I find it best to listen to some of it in the car with them, discussing themes, lyrics, interpretations, what we would change about the song, what's moral, and what's not so much.  Of course, then I find that my two year old tries to sing "Wrecking Ball," and my four year old is pretty adept at "Trouble."

5.  And "trouble" aptly describes their current state: both of my little ones have lingering coughs which have disturbed their sleep, and want me to carry them around.  Fliss looks up at me pitifully saying, "I want your hug!" (Hug = to be carried everywhere you go and never put down.)  But since I can barely walk, this is not possible.  Nor is it possible for me to reach past my knees to pick up ANYthing.  That is what the older girls are doing today.  Just wait till they get home from co-op/school.   heh heh  Like the produce bowling game that was going on while I took a long hot shower...

Want a rare handy tip from me?  Next time you want to get the skin off an onion, just roll it across the floor.  Seems to work pretty well...

6.  I'm breaking out the steroids, so am planning to be on the mend soon.  If only I had been doing yoga more consistently, right?  Kick-boxing seemed a better way to get into shape, but prednisone is sure going to be a set-back for that, sigh.  Some peaceful stretching would have been much better, in hindsight... speaking of which, I got drawn into an online discussion where yoga was equated to ouiji boards and pagan worship.  I disagreed, in long paragraphs.  Should have put my body where my words were.... :S

7.  I wouldn't say God has given me more than I can handle this round of trials anyway, despite the fact that my husband is leaving shortly for a business trip the other side of the continent.  I guess I'd chalk up the current state of affairs to Him challenging me to grow and trust His grace.  That's very difficult when the walk from the couch to the bathroom seems like an incredible journey, but I know He'll provide help, and meds, and grace.  Thank you Lord, in advance.

Linked to The Conversion Diary