Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Old Age

My sister and I were talking about age and it's effects on the body yesterday.  We agreed that we wanted to continue to take care of ourselves so we could be strong and active in our 70's.

Laura commented on our mother and how she marveled at Anita (mother-in-law and all around wonder-woman who is older than my Mom) and how she cooked for the entire family on Easter.  This led to the discussion that I have never seen my mother or father exercise until maybe a year ago.  Never.  We never went on a family walk.  My parents never aerobicized, never lifted weights, never jogged, never ANYTHING.  Don't get me wrong, my father was the strongest man I knew until PD.  But, my parents never took care of their muscles.

After this long, enlightening discussion we both felt good that we have walked and made exercise a priority.  We aren't perfect, well maybe Laura is, but we are making efforts and trying to take care of ourselves.  I patted myself on the back.  Until...

I am in the deepest sleep I have ever been in at 1:00 a.m.  I'm talking James Cameron in a submarine to the deepest part of the ocean, deep sleep, when my 11 year old SCARES THE %H@T OUT OF ME by waking me up with an earache.  

I try comforting Bubba.  I honestly cannot wake up.  He is lying in bed next to me whimpering and writhing in pain over his ear and I don't even know how to wrap my mind around operating a flashlight to look inside his ear.  God forbid I have to turn a light on.  

For the next HOUR, yes darn you Ibuprofen for not working quicker, I stumble around my bedroom wetting hot washcloths, trying to focus on his ear canal all because my only goal is to make him stop crying and whimpering so I can go back to sleep.  

At one point I remember handing him the children's Ibuprofen bottle and telling him to drink up because I can't remember how to measure, and who knows where the little plastic cup is at 2 in the morning.  If it is any consolation, I do remember thinking that he is almost 12, and it was children's Ibuprofen, so he should be fine.

Now?  It's 9 in the morning and I feel like I have been hit by a truck because I was up in the night for an hour.  How did I ever do this when the kids were babies?  Forty two,  I honestly think I hate you.

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