Yesterday morning I woke up, bent down to put on my leg and became stuck at a 90 degree angle. It took me almost 5 minutes of rocking and stretching (and cursing) before I was able to don my leg and limp out of bed. Lately I have been able to predict the productivity of my day by the level of pain I experience in the morning. Judging from the fact that I could only move with my body contorted like a reverse question mark, I knew it was going to be a long day.
Keeping up with a mischievous toddler while trying to nurse an aching back is an exercise in futility. Although he is only 18 months old, I am fairly certain that Timmy knew that my defenses were weakened. I would love to report that he was caring, loving and well behaved all day out of empathy for my pain. Instead, he took full advantage of the opportunity to wreak as much havoc as possible.
Within a 30 minute period he splashed in the toilets, shoved cat food into his mouth by the fistful and unraveled two rolls of toilet paper through his bedroom. Hoping to minimize the damage, I ended up blocking the exits and limiting access to the living room. I was hoping that he would calm down and quietly play with one of his numerous toys.
I was wrong. My little Hamlet spent the next hour pressing every button available, unplugging cords and raging against the barriers until he was released from his make-shift prison. As much as I begged, he just wouldn't stay still.
I felt a severe muscle spasm last night, but after that episode I am feeling much better. Today I'm able to bend and walk erect without pain, which is definitely a good thing because I need to start cleaning up the remnants of the toddler tornado that hit my house yesterday.