I threw my back out today. Actually, as much as it hurts right now I wish I could throw it out in the dumpster sitting in my driveway. But, alas, one cannot live without a spine, lest one become a jellyfish.

And it’s all Pumpkin’s fault, well not really. Much. My whole day was leading up to the moment when I had to lay on the floor and call for help. It all started with our customary walk to Monkey’s school.

The school is on a very slight hill, just enough of one to justify a flight of stairs to the top. Monkey walked up the stairs while I pushed Pumpkin’s stroller up the hill. Then back down the hill again after dropping-off the Monkey man. It rained something fierce last night, and into the wee hours, so that hill was rather soggy. I leaned back and dug in my heels to keep the stroller from careening wildly into the street.

The leaning may have been a bit much because I noticed a small knot of tightness in my lower back on the walk back to the house. We had to walk back up to school earlier than usual to show my parents to Monkey’s classroom (it was Grandparents day at school) and by ‘we’, I mean that I let Pumpkin walk too. This was a mistake. When it came time to leave, she was having none of it. This kid could teach a graduate level course on passive resistance. I had to literally drag her or carry her all the way home. She variously yelled things at me like:”No!!!! I don’t want go with you!!!” “Put me down, Woman!!!!” I just knew somebody was going to call the police about a possible kidnapping, but we got home with only the minor difficulties natural to a three-year-old in full tantrum mode. I picked her up, she wanted down; I put her down, she wanted back up. About 15 times, each. I noticed the tightness turning into pain and getting worse with all the gyrations I was going through for this kid.

When we got home I put her down and started straightening up the House. You see, Grandad (my dad) was bringing Monkey home; and having either of my parents in the House kind of makes me anxious. Both are incredibly critical and since they haven’t had a toddler living in their house in over 30 years, they’ve forgotten how much work the little critters generate. I swept and mopped the bathroom, picked up toys, vacuumed half-chewed yellow crayon off the floor (sometimes, it’s just best not to ask), and generally ran around like a mad woman.

After my dad left, I noticed that it was very humid in the House and decided the kids should wear shorts. Monkey is such a good, big boy-he put on his shorts without a fuss and patiently waited for his snack. I found a pair of shorts for Pumpkin. They were the wrong shorts. I never did figure out why they were wrong or even which shorts might be the right ones. Finally, I told her to let me put them on her and wrestled them onto her, all while sitting cross-legged on the floor. After she had them on, I said, “See, these aren’t too short. They’re pretty.” Apparently the wrong thing to say, because she gave me a mighty baby-girl shove and said, “No!” I bobbled a bit and stopped myself, but the damage was done. My back spasmed on me and I couldn’t stand up and I couldn’t stay sitting up, either. So I went down. One question-when a mom falls over in the den and no other adults are there, will the kids care if she yells? Well, mine thought it was pretty funny. I knew I needed help and that neither kid could provide that help. So, I had Monkey bring me my cell phone and I called my MIL to come over. Maybe to help me up, but mainly to keep the kids from tearing down the House. You see, I was the wounded gazelle and the cheetahs had cut me from the herd. Pumpkin jumped on me and sat on my poor aching hip bone (I was on my side) and demanded a “ride”. Monkey took off for the kitchen to get his own snack, thank-you-very-much. And when they were both in the room, they both laughed at me. I told them, “My back is out!” Pumpkin laid on the floor in the same position as I was and said, “My back is ouch!” She was mocking my pain! Then, with a grin, she asked, “I hurt your back, Mama?” I told her yes! She just laughed and patted my face. Man, 3-yr olds don’t have a lot of sympathy for hurt mommies.

Finally my MIL arrived and told me that Hubby’s brother would also be here in just a minute. Great, more people to witness my abject humiliation. He arrived and was all set to haul me off the floor when I told him no, I wanted to try it myself and to please keep the kids out of my way. MIL pipes in with, “If you can’t get up we’ll call 911.” I said, “I am NOT calling 911! Even if I have to stay here all night!” But I didn’t. Eventually I was able to work my way to up sitting on the floor, then sitting on the couch, then standing upright. I had called Hubby by this time and told him not to come home early as everything seemed to be under control.

In the meantime, Nana (MIL) made the kids some popcorn, which they proceeded to scatter about the place. Monkey decided to get disobedient because I couldn’t enforce anything and he can outrun Nana, what with that cane and all. Finally, I sent Monkey to his room, where he remained until Hubby got home.

I’m still sitting here in pain and dreading the inevitable trip to the bathroom, when I will have to wrench these old, achy bones to a standing position. Even though it’s technically Friday, it’s still Thursday to me and I desperately need this day to end. So I will post again soon with an update.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 25th, 2008 at 1:28 am and is filed under Healthy Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.