This week, in the midst of my quest to work out for 30 straight days, my back started hurting. It might be a result of one of the exercises I have done. It is more likely related to an unfortunate incident we had while building our new backyard playground, involving a not-so-smart attempt on my part to catch a giant piece of playground as it careened towards the ground. I'm lucky I didn't seriously injure myself as my wrist got pinned between two 4x4's. After a heroic rescue by a swift-moving, fast-thinking husband, I walked away with nothing more than a few pinch marks from a watch (which I believe saved my wrist) and a gigundo bruise above my right knee.
Oh yeah, and the back pain. I try not to complain about things like this because, really, I know so many others have real, legitimate problems, and I don't like to be a whiny brat. It's just that...it feels exactly like I am in my 8th month of pregnancy with the shooting sciatica pain going down my left leg when I move certain ways.
I'm intimately familiar with this pain because one year ago I looked like this (warning - it's not pretty):
I like to think the belly has gotten a little smaller since then (but, unfortunately, I still have that same stupid expression on my face most of the time).
My back hurt (especially in this picture, as we'd just finished a 12-hour drive to Maryland in my 8th month of pregnancy). And it hurt earlier and more intensely with each progressive pregnancy.
So here I am today, most assuredly not pregnant with a similar back pain and I couldn't help but think, "Well shoot. If my back's going to hurt anyway, let's just have another baby."
Then I laughed really, REALLY hard.
And that, friends, is your Friday afternoon joke. Hope you all have a great weekend!
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