I made up a new word: patheticism.
Yesterday morning I woke up with a tight back. I rarely have back issues. Although I do remember one time my back gave out when I sneezed. S and I were newly married and living in an unbelievably hot and dusty one bedroom apartment in the Ukrainian Village here in Chicago. I remember spending two days straight flat on my back. Our good friends brought over their television so that I would have something to do to keep my mind off of the pain.
So this time, I didn’t do anything major like sneezing. What I feel is more of a dull ache and a lot of tightness. It makes for a long day when your two year old is not walking and weighs 26 pounds.
Sleeping flat helped. Until I got up and started walking around at 7 am.
Polly had physical therapy this morning. Lately she has been doing so well in her sessions, but today she cried and cried and cried.
I know she isn’t really sick because she just saw her doctor yesterday for a check-up.
Decidedly, it’s her teeth, still.
The PT left, I gave Polly her obligatory dose of baby Tylenol and then we laid on the floor whinning to one another.
After a while I got her, somehow, up to her bed for a nap. She was glad to go.
I just looked up patheticism. It seems I did not make this word up.
Patheticism: In its simplest terms, it’s appearing helpless enough that one does not present any danger to those with the power to do one harm.
I’m going back to the floor.