I just came in the house from watering flowers, and I think I pulled a muscle in my stomach.
I pulled a muscle.
With a hose.
Or I may have eaten too much spicy salsa earlier, which may be an alternate explanation for the stomach discomfort.
Either way, I can tell you one thing... This gal has had to take things down a notch, physically speaking. My motto these days: Slow and steady wins the race.
Slow. and steady. wins. the race.
That is my credo.
I, like the turtle, slowly and steadily push on.
I'd like to think that this only has to do with being pregnant. In fact, I will tell myself that this only has to do with being pregnant. But somewhere, back in a foggy corner of my mind, I think, perhaps, my body just can't take the abuse that it used to. But also, in that same foggy corner, is another voice that is telling me I need to get in better shape.
Take tonight, for instance... We are going to do a bunch of planting in the garden, and I know... I just know... my lower vertebral column is going to be out of whack for at least the next five days, simply from bending and crouching and leaning over. And there will also be a span of about three minutes, after which I arise from all of this bending and crouching and leaning over, wherein with I will not be able to stand up fully, but will have to walk around slowly and slightly hunched over, until my back shimmies back into place again.
A little frustrating? Yes. But instead of dwelling on what I can't do, I think about alternate ways to do things that don't leave me aching and exhausted, and I focus on activities that I can still do quite well, if I do say so myself...
Like making pancakes...
I make a mean chocolate chip buttermilk pancake. And thus far I have not pulled any muscles while doing so.
And cooking in general (with generous amounts of cheese and butter)...
We've been eating well around these parts.
I'm very good at watching Mr. Blue Eyes play soft ball...
Taking pictures of random things around the farm...
I don't know what it is about this leaky hydrant. It speaks to me.
And of course, planting the smatterings of flowers here, there and everywhere...
...the watering of which has tested my stomach muscle capabilities. It's not the watering itself, it's the hose, people, that big ol' hose. It's the dragging around the yard of the hose.
But now that I think about it, my stomach feels better.
It must have been the salsa.