Ow

I'm seeing a chiropractor tomorrow.  

Jason's been home sick in bed most of the week, but no worries, because I'm here to take care of him... while crippled with hip pain.  

What fortune we have kids old enough to prepare and serve us peanut butter sandwiches in bed.  

When Jeddy was small, I once calculated that it takes nine times longer than normal to do anything when you have a baby.  Therefore I theorize the existence of mom-years; like dog-years except the mom ages nine years for every one regular human year, since the birth of her first child.  Each subsequent child adds a flat four years (taking into account pregnancy, childbirth, infancy, and the terrific twos).


Thus, by my calculations, I'm actually 117 years old.


That explains an awful lot.