a crash test dummy
learning lessons from bruises?
should just stop walking
A list of the stupid things that have happened to my poor, tired body over the last week:
1) twisted ankle
2) baseball-sized bruise on leg from careening into cedar chest at the foot of my bed
3) gash in foot from church door
4) smashed finger (got caught between the glider’s armrest and the wee one’s head)
And these are just the injuries I took time out of my busy day to curse over. There have been other, smaller ones that I can’t even remember right now.
Please tell me this is just one of those postpartum things that happens because of lack of sleep and the fact that I’m still walking like a lumberjack while my hips and pelvis find their way to normal again. I don’t like the idea of forever being a clumsy oaf. Not that that is very far from the truth, but usually I get at least a week or two between injuries so that I can properly mend. Sheesh.
I haven’t dropped the baby or gotten in a car accident, yet, though, so that’s good. (I had two minor car accidents between the 6th and 8th week of the wee one’s life.)
This must be why certain cultures keep the mama and baby in bed for the first 30 days. Damn.