Feelin' blue...

Well, I'm sad. My kiddos are at the in-laws. Again. They've been there since Saturday afternoon. I hurt my neck carrying Bacon on the hike at Camp Wiregrass on Thursday, and since I just went about life as usual Friday and Saturday, by Sunday, I couldn't move. The doctor at the ER gave me some shots of happiness and prescribed some pills of survival, and I've been chillin' at the crib sans l'enfants ever since.

Carl actually came and got me this afternoon and I spent a couple of hours with them. I didn't pick them up or really do much but feel their gentle hugs and kisses for awhile, but my neck and shoulders were screaming by the time I got home. But it was very much worth it. And now I'm alone again. Sigh.

I thought I'd blog about it to get it off my mind, and I think it's helping some, just to get the feelings into words and out of my psyche as meaningless yearnings. Kinda' reminds me of how the Bible says the Holy Spirit intercedes for us when we don't know how or what to say. Hmmm... not meaning to compare my blog to deity, just, yeah, whatever.

One of the things I've become depressed about is weaning Bacon. Yes, Bacon is 14 months old, and until Saturday, I was still breastfeeding him. If you think that's weird, well, I think you're ignorant, so there's that ;) I breastfed the first two until around 20 months, but Bacon was already showing signs that he was getting ready to be weaned. I hadn't come to terms with it, yet, though. However, the doctor and I agreed on a course of treatment that would allow my injury to heal most quickly (5-6 days), but I would have to suspend breastfeeding for the week. Since I was already thinking about weaning Bacon, I decided this would be a good time to do it, but it's kind of a shock to my emotions that it's so sudden. Luckily enough, Bacon was ready, and he's doing great so far. When I visited this afternoon, Sheila placed him on my lap, and he wordlessly signaled to me that he wanted me to feed him, but I told him we didn't do that anymore, and he accepted that and just hugged me and nuzzled me instead for a minute. He's such a sweet little old man. I think he's gonna' do just fine.

Anyway, in case any of you out there in cyberspace were wondering, I'm doing fine, as long as I don't move too much. I've got a doctor's appointment scheduled for Thursday, during which I think I'm supposed to be getting a referral to a chiropractor or physical therapist or something... someone's supposed to be teaching me how to "get my spine back to a 30-year-old's spine" as Dr. Revel said. I'm also not taking all my calls, so don't get worried if I don't answer. I'll keep you updated somehow.