Moving At The Speed Of Mom….
Doesn’t that sound like something more thorough and complicated than the speed of light? Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? Multi-tasking to a level that only a Mom could possibly accomplish?
Normally, I’d agree. I’m one of those notorious “busy people.” I completely resemble the phrase, “If you want something to get done, ask a busy person to do it.” I generally have my fingers and toes in so many pots that even I have no idea how it all gets done. Moving at the Speed of Mom is practically a badge of honor.
But not today. Today, I tried to take a regular step, instead of a hobble step, since falling off a toilet and wrenching my knee little more than a week ago. (If you want that story in a nutshell, read here.) One regular step with just a touch of stride. That’s all. I have the awesome walking stick my hubby made for me and I’m wearing my new trusty super-duper knee brace. The good stuff.
So I step. The first half was ok, but the last half was a kicker. I am not double jointed, but my knee apparently thought it was.
White lightning shot through my leg. I screamed and yelled and cried and cussed. The kids weren’t home, so I let loose, crumpling on the bed trying to straighten my knee and keep it there, like some sort of physical equivalent to a keyboard <delete!> <delete!> <delete!>.
Control-Z, undo, backspace! PLEASE let’s erase that and say I didn’t try and spare me this agony! I swear my brain went snowy white for awhile it hurt so bad.
So it’s back to sit, prop, reduce my movement and take things one moment at a time.
Really, it’s not too bad. I guess it’s something we all have to do sometime. Slow down, clear our minds, clarify our path, and listen to that small still voice within.
The one that says “So what’s for dinner?”