Handle with Care

60. Handle With Care: Write about a very fragile or delicate object.



Having children under the age of five can be exhausting.

Our three-year-old is especially… Physical.

We’re pretty sure he’s at least bruised (if not broken) Chico’s ribs. The other day, after spending an afternoon in the play room with him, I felt like I’d been in a full-out brawl.

He doesn’t stop jumping on me, climbing on me, and otherwise being ALL-OUT ON ME.

The Kato to my Inspector Clouseau

The other day, when describing this state of affairs to my friends, one of them said,

“So, he’s the Kato to your Inspector Clouseau?”

It took me a second, because it’s been years and years since I’ve seen any of the Peter Sellers “Pink Panther” movies. Then I started laughing until I had tears in my eyes.

Yes! That is EXACTLY IT!

Yup. This is pretty much how it goes in our house.

Mama is Fragile!

I feel this is very true today.

I had a dermatologist appointment, and different parts of me were frozen, sliced, prodded, pressed, scraped, squeezed and sewn up.

The last time I had any kind of anesthetic was in childbirth three years ago, and everyone feels pretty drained after giving birth.

When the dermatologist told me this morning that I might feel tired and woozy after having a local anesthetic, I mentally brushed her off.

By noon, however, I had realized what she meant.

It’s probably age catching up with me (like it’s been doing for a while, now), but man! I feel completely drained.

Handle With Care

I’m lucky to have natural strength. I’m no delicate flower. But I’ve been particularly struck in the last few weeks at how my body, while still incredibly strong, experiences stresses differently.

Whether it’s the stress of lack of sleep, an attack-child, or a local anesthetic. My body feels these more acutely, and seems more sensitive than in former years.

This is why I am that much more grateful that I have taken the step of adding exercise to my routine.

With this small change of 30 minutes every couple of days, I feel more equal to the physical demands of parenthood, and of life in general.

My body is naturally powerful. Now, it feels like that power can be sustained. And it feels amazing.

A Balancing Act

So yesterday I wrote a list of the sweet treats that I’ve been baking in lockdown. Just writing the list had me craving a treat.

I love sweets. Not just any sweets. Gourmet sweets.

Candy? Meh.

I can do without M&Ms, Mars bars, or candy of any kind, really. I don’t care for soft drinks and I can pass on ice cream and even chocolate.

But OH. EM. GEE. You put a plate of cookies, muffins, scones or cakes in front of me? And I am a GONER.

The combination of sweet and bready makes my head spin. I am physically incapable of resisting. Such things have to either be hidden from me or kept in the house without my knowledge (hard, since I’m usually the one baking them).

Attempted Moderation

I’ve managed to moderate my intake of delicious baked treats by imposing a rule that I only eat the things I make. Great. That should slow me down, right?

Wrong. I bake them. I research and practice to perfect baking recipes. I tweak and modify so that they’re as tasty as I want them. While I’m pretty good at limiting myself to one helping a day, I sometimes can’t help myself.


Balancing Attempt

Having used calorie tracking apps before, I’ve come to the conclusion that despite my love of baked treats, my eating habits are actually quite healthy.

What I cook and eat on a daily basis is good for me. But those things I do indulge in, I want to enjoy. I want to be able to have a couple glasses of wine in the week. I want to enjoy a cookie, piece of pie or slice of cake after my dinner a few times a week.

And so, I have made a decision.

I am now a person who exercises daily.

“How can you NOT be a person who exercises daily?!” Some people need to exercise, they need to sweat and exert themselves.

I, dear reader, was not one of those people. I did not feel the need to make myself uncomfortable.

For most of my life, this wasn’t a big deal. I’m naturally very strong and though I could wish my cardio was better, I never felt incapable of doing the things I wanted to do. I could hike a mountain on a Saturday in May after sitting on my backside from November through April.

Age Sucks

But now, I’m feeling my years. Cycling with the boys has become more difficult. A weekend hike is now hard because my breathing is labored.

And so, a new habit begins. Just as I have become a person who writes every day, I am now a person who exercises every day.

(I hope.)

Send encouragement! Tell me your favorite exercise routines! We have a stationary bike which came with a one year iFit subscription and I’ve been enjoying the workouts which take you on a virtual ride in a cool place somewhere in the world.


The Evolution of One Hour of Exercise

Or, “How amnesia helps keep me in shape.”



Alright! I’m outside and it feels great! I’m pumped! I’ve got my gear and my tunes and I’m READY!


Man, I didn’t realize it was going to rain this morning. Boy am I glad I have this awesome gear to keep me warm!


There’s a bit of a wind today, isn’t there? I’ll be turning around in 23 minutes, it’ll be at my back then.


Okay, breathing’s getting a bit harder. But it feels great!


Breathing is even harder. It doesn’t feel so good anymore. In fact, my lungs are burning.


Has this hill always been this steep?! Or is this new? They’ve changed this park layout, right? Holy crap I’m sweating.


How long have I been doing this? Maybe I should stop and drink some water.


No, I can’t stop! It’s been almost half an hour, I can keep it up!


Oh God every breath is agony!




Wait, the wind has changed! It’s in my face again!


My sweat-soaked clothes are starting to freeze in this biting wind. My fingers are red and swollen. I can’t feel my face.


How are my legs still moving? It’s like they have a will of their own and their objective is to DESTROY ME.




Whose freaking bright freaking idea was this to freaking exercise in this weather? I hate this place. I hate this weather. I hate my legs. I hate my lungs.


I hate my gear. It sucks. My feet hurt.


I hate my tunes. They’re not distracting me from the pain!


Is that my house? Am I home yet?




How many croissants can I eat after having run this far?


Breathing seems to be unnecessary for survival because apparently I’m still alive.


Oh God I can smell my own sweat!


Just a few… more… feet… home…


That’s my door! I can see it!


Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right…


Just crawl up the front steps, woman, then you can collapse.


I MADE IT!!!! *Collapse in a heap*


Regain consciousness.


Facebook status update: “Went for a run this morning. It felt great! Can’t wait to go again tomorrow!”