It's Christmas Eve, and I'm barely moving. Oh, it's not fatigue, although like most everyone else I know, I'm pretty beat.
I'm injured. I have no idea how it happened, but somehow I managed to pull, stretch or somehow mangle the band of muscles that surrounds the chest and upper back. I woke up the other day, somewhat alarmed at feeling pain in my chest, but soon realized that I could barely take a deep breath without my muscles screaming.
It's frustrating, annoying - I feel like I've been in a fight. I've been walking in slow motion for the last few days, trying to avoid quick movements and sudden turns.
But I can honestly say I've found the silver lining that surrounds this cloud. I've had to slow down - I've had no choice but to step back from the holiday rush. To my surprise - and guilt - I've found this makes my children really happy. Oh, not the injury, of course -but the accessibility.
We've read Christmas books. We watched Christmas movies. My son showed off the videos he's been making; my daughter demonstrated all the airplanes she's created in her problem-solving class.
I'll likely be moving a little slower through Christmas. But maybe I was moving too fast to begin with.
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