I'm stuck.

This week, I learned that I am now at the age where I can no longer jump into an exercise routine all blithely and youthfully. I started jogging again last week when the temperatures were a blessed forty degrees. (At the most, two miles. Let's not get crazy.) And I didn't stretch properly afterwards, or beforehand, really, and when I was twisting with a Toot on my left hip later on, something twinge-y happened in my back. And then I spent this weekend all stiff and in pain and practically immobile on the couch. (I did not vacuum on Sunday, as is my custom, and it pained me to see the condition of our area rugs. But I persevered to swap out Rudy's 12-18 month clothes for a new round of hand-me-downs, size 18-24 months. I literally knelt beside our kitchen table so that I could fold with a straight back. It was dumb, but I felt productive.)

Last year around this time, (the time when I realize I'm about to coach high school lacrosse even though I've never played and would like to be in some semblance of my former athletic shape), I pulled a muscle in my BUTT after jump-starting a pretty measly exercise regime. And this year, my back. I went to physical therapy last night, and can I just say: I want the injury where I need to rest with a heating pad and then get a massage. Not the one where I need to exercise to fix it, please. Anyway, my back was feeling better this morning when the heaps of slushy snow and then stupid rain bucketed down upon my Wednesday.

To get out of the house, I met Liz and her kids at the McDonald's with a indoor playground the next town over. She treated me to a McCafe (thanks!), and Marley and Will raced around like maniacs who needn't fear a pulled muscle ever. Rudy sidled around like a cowgirl who's been riding too long, thrilled with herself and her ten or more steps in a row! And then at one point when I was holding her, I twisted a little too far to the right. And then I was all wincing and practically back where I started. When I went to the grocery store afterwards, Rudy was that baby all curled over the carriage seat screaming with the agony and indignity of being strapped in. Doesn't everyone know she can take SEVERAL STEPS IN A ROW? God forbid she should be seated and enjoy the ride while I pick up diapers at Target or lasagna noodles at Hannaford's. So I was clutching her coat to keep her from tumbling into the cart while hunched over to the side because of my back, and also directing Marley to stay with us through gritted teeth.

And later today, while pulling Rudy out of the car and then opening the passenger side door to collect my bags, I slammed the corner of the car door directly into my forehead. I now have a cut and bump there, and predict a smattering of black and blue to follow.

To sum up: intermittent immobility because of back pain, depressing weather predicted for several more days, and an actual head wound. I feel like Jackson looks in the picture below. Actually, I probably look like that, too. All scrunched up and grumpy. And come to think of it, Rudy's expression below is just about the way she looked at me while I hollered after the car door incident. I'll be fine. But right now I am in a state of dreary limbo.