it’s not about you

So there I was, having a sweet little moment with my boy - lying on the bed with Killian, singing songs with him as he played with his feet to get him settled down in order to go to sleep, when Joshua walked in the room with Killian’s milk cup.

Killian smiled contentedly, said “bauk,” and reached for the cup, when we all noticed a bit of milk spill onto his shirt. As Joshua handed the cup over to Killian, the entire contents of the cup hit my baby boy right in THE FACE. Apparently, Joshua forgot to screw on the lid.

It took all three of us a full few seconds to figure out what it the world had just happened - did my husband REALLY throw a cup of milk in our son’s face? And for the love of all things good - WHY? Confess, Child! Confess!

Of course, Killian started screaming bloody murder - that’s COLD MILK! ON HIS FACE! I handed him over to his father who took him to the bathroom, stripped him down and started running him a bath. He was completely covered in milk. Then I started stripping all his sheets. It got EVERYWHERE.

You know how a tablespoon of liquid seems to spread out and get everywhere? Try a whole cup. On your son’s face. I think I’ll get his milk from now on.

link

Okay, so not really CAMP. But how cool is it that this group of people still speaks Aramaic? I love hearing about these kinds of stories, where researchers have found a small segment of a population who are the only ones left who speak a language, and about the efforts to keep that language alive. The thought that the language Jesus spoke might become extinct is a pretty interesting one.

So I’ve been asked by several people how I am doing.

I’m doing much better, thanks. This new chiropractic office I’ve been going to for the past few weeks seems to be helping a lot. The numbness/pain/tingling/pins-and-needles feelings in my arm are gone. My neck feels much better and my shoulder isn’t hurting as bad. I’m still a little frightened of doing something mundane and wrenching myself out again, but I’m feeling 95% better.

Joshua told me I was definitely feeling better because I’m not bursting into tears every 30 minutes.

My pubic bone still hurts quite a bit, which might be partly due to running on the Golden Gate Bridge yesterday hand-in-hand with Mary Judah. The chiropractic care seems to help with some maintenance, though. When I had gone without any for a couple of months, it got really bad, but now the pain is back to its regularly scheduled programming.

Most importantly, I feel like the chiropractors who are working on me now are empathetic and are listening to me and validating what I’m saying about what I’m going through. I’m not put through any guilt trips or implications that this pain is somehow my fault as if I’m not doing what I’m told. So I feel much more comfortable there. They also don’t pretend to have the magic touch and and expect that as soon as I’m adjusted, my pain will instantly disappear. They are also open and encouraging when I talk about other therapies I’m considering. They don’t get huffy and act like it’s a personal affront.

Woo-hoo!

So I also went to my primary care physician this morning, to talk to her about all this and see if she had any suggestions. I have the numbers of some physical therapists to check out and a prescription for some Vicodin (I think Mom called them “happy pills”), for when the pain gets bad. I can’t wait to get that filled.

In other news, the appeals court has officially reversed its earlier decision and has stated that parents DO have a right to homeschool their children in the state. Hopefully I will have a separate post up about that and maybe - MAYBE - that long ago promised series on what was wrong with the ruling.