Patheticism

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.

Exactly.

 I’m going back to the floor. 

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