I's in Agony

This blog is becoming a real wailing wall for me.

In a misguided effort to be a "happening mom", I ventured out last Saturday morning, ALONE and ON FOOT, with The Son. The whole idea was to spend half a day with him and somehow manage to combine weekend destressing with getting to know my son a little better. It's just one kid. How difficult can this be?

I sit here now, with half my back throbbing in agony, almost unable to get out of bed without third party assistance, and I ask myself, what on earth was I thinking. Once out of the house, where he runs around like a crazy chicken, the Son refused to walk on his own and had to be carried ... let's see... over an overhead bridge to a bus stop, onto the bus, in the bus, off the bus, onto the train, in the train (no seats, bloody hell), off the train, to Centrepoint, throughout breakfast, to the pedicurist, throughout the pedicure, to the toilet, throughout the toilet visit (I should get a medal for this) and finally to the toyshop where he deigned to stand and walk around on the condition that I buy for him the S$24.90 jar of coloured blocks that he picked off a shelf (turns out he didn't want the blocks, just the jar, so I paid S$24.90 for a cheap plastic jar).

Somehow along the way, I managed to do something incredibly horrible to my back and now it's a challenge just to get up from my chair to collect my printing. Lying on my left side in bed is just not an option anymore. Why? I dunno. It's sheer muscle-related agony. It even hurts when I yawn. Frankly, I think it was the toilet visit that did it. How is it possible to carry a baby whilst ... attending to urgent matters in a public toilet cubicle without sitting down. A squirming toddler who screams when his feet touch the floor. Eventually, I had to put him down for about a minute whilst ... I tidied up. The screaming and crying and whining bounced off the toilet walls and I couldn't think straight - it's a miracle I managed to ... tidy up and not come out looking like I'm incontinent. Then I opened the door and a little girl was standing just on the other side with this look of absolute horror on her face. Yes! I was cutting him up in there! You caught me!

Heading out (gingerly) for a massage, although it's possible that nothing short of a back transplant will help.