Whoa, Nelly

I hurt my neck Monday. I believe the technical term is "tweeked".

Or at least it is over at urbandictionary.com. (Don't go there to verify, though. Apparently "tweek" also means a variety of other, mildly horrific things which I refuse to divulge in this merry & bright holiday season.)

And you know what my injury forced me to do?

Something unfathomable. Unthinkable. Ridiculous. Something I definitely didn't have time for.

It forced me to slow down.

I took a very hot shower, slowly (no complaints.)
I slowly picked out the most comfortable, work-appropriate outfit & shoes (my feet thanked me.)
I had to slowly turn around to back my car out, or to check for oncoming traffic (you're welcome, people I didn't hit.)
I moved more slowly at work and could enjoy more Christmas music from my desk (fa-la-la-la-la!)
I got a last-minute massage appointment because the chiropractor was out of the office (gee, if you insist.)
And once I got home, changed into the favorite sparkly sweatpants, and sat down; I didn't have anywhere else to go. I went through Eric's homework slowly and deliberately, examining the answers he got wrong to see if I could figure out why, and admiring & praising him for the purple stars & stickers adorning the tops of the others. I sat next to him while he read, and patiently discussed birthday treat options for his class. I got to watch his reaction when I offered "ice cream cone cupcakes": first, his eyes lit up and he started listing the kinds of ice cream he wanted, and then his eyes & shoulders fell when he said, "But, Mom, you can't have any." He knows I can't have ice cream and his sadness at this thought enveloped me with the loving mystery of having a child that loves/knows/cares about me so much that I cross his mind when he's thinking of birthday treats.

I was able to describe exactly what ice cream cone cupcakes are and all is again right with the world.


Mommy & Eric


Today, I feel tons better and have donned high-heels and sparkles yet again. But I started the day off with Christmas music, sat and read my book during my lunch hour, and practiced my Christmas choir songs while watching my glittery snowflake sway from my rearview mirror. I also sent Sean a text that read: I don't want a bunch of silent pressure on this special holiday. I just want it to be nice. And I really don't want you stressing over there. I will try to think of something I would truly like [to receive].

I'm also relishing the fact that I get to go home in a few hours, turn on the prettiest white Christmas lights on the prettiest tree, and maybe take my my baby to a movie, even though I should {probably} be wrapping presents.

It is impossible every day, with the way we and our days are wired, to make the time for some things...to slow down and just absorb & enjoy...but it is always possible sometimes.