Hazards of baby living



I know my place is a constant hazard, floor forever covered in matchbox cars, toy pieces, and discarded laundry waiting to be picke dup in the next laundry sweep. I feel I constatly live a real life version of Final Destination where doom looms around every corner. Last week my cousin tripped over a Sit 'n Spin and fell holding a baby. This weekend I- no lie- slipped in a puddle of spit-up I didn't know was there and pulled a muscle in my back. I spent the remainder of the weekend in a muscle relaxer stupor laying flat on my back oblivious to the crying babies tag teaming my husband. That shit hurt! Not to mention the unpleasant flashback it brings up of being on bedrest. What a helpless feeling. Then my husbands brings me homemade strawberry banana pancakes in bed and a fresh ice pack and I think, "If I weren't in pain, this wouldn't be half bad!'