Aaahhh...rest days.

I love rest days. I have a wonderful kind of soreness from the 10-mile run yesterday. The kind that doesn't inhibit your getting around, but lets you know that you did something challenging.



My son, J, and I spent the morning together getting ready for his playmates to come over in the afternoon. During his nap I vacuumed and scrubbed the kitchen floor, which made me feel very productive.



Finally his friends came over with moms in tow. We had a great time playing in the front room, after J got over the fact that there were other toddlers playing with his toys. He had to climb up into a chair and assess the situation before he warmed up. Only one injury to report: a case of bumber babies, in which C and J decided to head butt each other. Neither one was happy with the outcome.



Time flew by and it was time to put J to bed. I twisted and pushed my way off the floor, and froze...Ugh! my back. I lied back down. Breathe. Stretch. Ok, let's try this again. This time I made it up, but didn't straighten all the way without feeling a twinge in my lower back. J had no sympathy. He was ready to be lifted into a giant hug and carried off to bed. How could I let him down? After gingerly depositing him in bed, he assumed his sleep position. Flip over, grab Ms. Bunny, butt high in the air, and off to dreamland.



I, however, am on my back, knees up, on the floor, and forced to watch my husband play video games. Not exactly the rest I wanted.