I love ice packs. No seriously. I have a new found love for ice packs. The type of love that causes daydreams and spontaneous smiles. I will be the first to admit: Pathetic. Pathetic but my new reality. I am writing this on the couch. The couch, me, and my ice pack. Yes.
Here lies the problem. I do not want a love for ice packs. A love for ice packs means that they are bringing relief. Relief from what you might ask? Well, apparently when you have a child, your abs decide to throw in the towel, raise the white flag and call it a day. Gone. Poof. Goodbye.
No abs means your back muscles are doing overtime and they don't like that. So all that stuff about picking your child up from his crib, or bending over to lay him down on his playmat becomes more of an olympic acrobatic feat. How exactly are you supposed to perfom these everyday tasks when your back is screaming at you?
So for now, I love my ice packs. Maybe when J stops growing or needing my attention, I will get my relief. :/ Good thing he's so darn cute.
Here lies the problem. I do not want a love for ice packs. A love for ice packs means that they are bringing relief. Relief from what you might ask? Well, apparently when you have a child, your abs decide to throw in the towel, raise the white flag and call it a day. Gone. Poof. Goodbye.
No abs means your back muscles are doing overtime and they don't like that. So all that stuff about picking your child up from his crib, or bending over to lay him down on his playmat becomes more of an olympic acrobatic feat. How exactly are you supposed to perfom these everyday tasks when your back is screaming at you?
So for now, I love my ice packs. Maybe when J stops growing or needing my attention, I will get my relief. :/ Good thing he's so darn cute.
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