2009-06-08 - 10:52 a.m.

...the curse of bipedalism - back pains...

This weekend was a low in physical being.

My lower back has been bothering me for about a month - no surprise there. I haven't had the time to strengthen core muscles, and I've been hauling around luggage and a 25-pound baby on my hips.

And last week we finished off the final stages of weaning Susi. It all felt very gradual and natural. She doesn't seem to miss it - except for her occasional attempt at DIY in the evening (ahem). She's a little more clingy than normal, but otherwise things just tapered off quite naturally.

Then of course my body instantly took on 5 pounds again. I don't mean to sound like a chronic scale-watcher because I'm not. But this was one of those times when my body just FELT heavy and awful, just like the last time I cut back on nursing. And when I stepped on the scale, sure enough, the evidence was there. Sheesh. I had just worked off the FIRST five pounds from the last time (amazingly, I gained about ONE pound on our holiday to Europe. Please don't ask how I pulled that one off). Consolation: at least I was able to get rid of the last five pounds pretty easily.

So here I am, feeling achy and heavy. I went for a therapeutic massage. Not one of those tease-you-softly things - I wanted one that got to the root of the problem, dug into the muscles, and relieved the accumulation of knots.

I got it.

And after the massage I was wrecked. I slept for four hours on Saturday afternoon while K heroically took the baby girl. Two days later, there are bruises on my lower back. I wouldn't say that I feel loads better (bruises aren't nice), but I definitely noticed a difference in my shoulders, and in the way I walked. The therapist noted that my pelvis is out of alignment - no doubt from hauling the baby on my hip.

For some reason motherhood makes me think a lot about early hominids and how they raised their young. Did they worry about sleep training, nursing, weaning, eating, playing, community, and how to carry babies so that they weren't crippled? Shortly after I begin these thoughts, I remember that most cave women were probably dead before they reached my age. ahem.

Well, to avoid ending on that horrifying note, I am ending with an upbeat commitment to myself. I want to feel healthy and active by the time I reach the age of the meaning of life (42). There's still time.