Staying young is making me old

I've always heard the phrase "having kids around keeps you young." And I do understand this sentiment. Christmas, for example, this year was filled with the anticipation I remember having as a young child. I was so excited for Teddy that I almost believed we should leave cookies out for the big guy in the red suit. You know, just in case??

However, this Christmas I spent 5 hours in the ER after having thrown out my back. It was a big old bummer. We still had Christmas morning breakfast casserole (after I hobbled the 1.25 steps to the table) and opened presents. Teddy had so much fun ripping into the paper with full understanding that there was something inside that would be his. But I wasn't able to sit on the floor with him and swear under my breath help free all those toys from their confining plasticandcardboardandplastictieandfabrictieandscrewedinto boxes.

Instead I spent better part of the mid-day laying flat on my back while a nurse in a santa hat gave me shots and B and I talked about Angry Birds. I cried sad tears because as I laid there I missed my baby and the Christmas that this would not be. I know you will not remember it, and I hope that it fades in my memory too. It's already the new year, which so often means new chances and new hopes and renewed zest. I'm feeling especially optimistic about this year and all the memories we will make that will be worth remembering. First up? Finding time to mail back Grandma's cane I may have needed for a day or so. Then? Finding something equally as embarrassing about your Dad - he's got way too much ammo on me with the whole bent over a cane image in his head.