A Confession

Do I shun routine?
But why in the world would I?
I am a mama.

I canceled my physical therapy appointment today. I called and told them I’m feeling funky and that my husband is getting over the flu and in case I, too, have the flu I don’t want to bring it to the office with me.

Now. While it is true that my husband is getting over something nasty, it hasn’t been definitively diagnosed as the flu. It is also true that I’m feeling funky, but mostly because I’m exhausted, not because I’m sick. I guess karma will now make me sick, but I really didn’t feel like having my ass kneaded today.

Today is my 8th anniversary and if anyone is going to be kneading my ass, it will be my husband, and he will be gentle and not stabby like the PT is.

We don’t have any big plans for today – how could we? He’s sick… it’s a Tuesday… I have a teething nursling who won’t let me out of her sight. But hopefully this weekend we’ll be able to get out alone. Last year we stayed in a hotel! And went to a Coldplay concert! I’m not sure how we could top that even if we tried.

So in a feeble attempt to recapture some romance, I’m opting to only have my ass massaged once today. This will also free up some time so I can plan a nice dinner and possibly wash myself. I aim high, don’t I?

It’s hard to believe that this time 8 years ago I was getting my hair done and nervously eating Krispy Kreme donuts while I stared at my wedding dress on a hanger. Today I’m blogging while ravenously eating buttered toast and hollering at the wee one to get dressed so I can take him to school.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, 8 years is a blip, a whisper, a second. But this morning 8 years seems like 8 light years. Excellent, wonderful, surprising light years, but light years just the same.

I have to go plan for a romantic ass massage now. It’s so worth the $25 cancellation fee.

2 thoughts on “A Confession

  1. Hey, in a world where couples rarely make it to 3 years, 8 is a major accomplishment–congratulations! I hope your night was enjoyable despite the flu-y hubby and teething baby (hm, sounds like my house).


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