I am Spineless. Or Rather, I Wish I Was

Dear Tanis,

You never listen to me. You didn't listen to me when you were 17 years old and you decided you wanted to become the long jump champion of the world. I tried telling you all those years ago, that I simply wasn't cut out to be a springboard for your delusional athletic aspirations. I had to do something to make you hear me. So I took matters into my proverbial hands. Not that I have hands. Bygones. When you took off in a sprint and flung yourself into the air and landed in a bed of sand and then couldn't stand up straight for a week, well I warned you.

Just like I warned you when you decided you wanted to populate the world with your offspring. I am simply not cut out for this high-pressure job. While your babies are very lovely and all, they about crippled me as you kept stuffing your face with food as you gestated your critters with nary a thought to how I was doing all the hard work. You keep expecting me to perform no matter the pressure you put on me, and let me tell you something. You do my job for a day. I support you, endlessly and yet, you remain thankless.

Still, I suffered in silence for the most part. Oh, don't look at me like that. Sure I may have ached and protested an odd time or two, but for the most part, I kept my end of the deal. I kept you upright. Even as you hoisted small children and carted them around like they were royalty, I did my job.

It was you that didn't keep your end of this deal. There were no massages, no hydrotherapy, no anything. Heck, you wouldn't even pop a muscle relaxant or two just to give me a hand. No. You just soldiered on, whining about how bad I made you feel yet you did nothing to work with me at healing this rift between the two of us.

Then you tried to kill me last year. And you haven't stopped bitching about me since. I can hear you, you know. I'm your damn spine. Conveniently located not far from that mouth of yours that never seems to stop flapping. You carried your fat little dog out onto an icy alley way so that his precious wee paws wouldn't get cold. Very thoughtful. I love how you treat your dog better than you treat me. And to make matters worse, you didn't even put on shoes. You were wearing slippers. Slippers, Tanis. On ice. Don't even get me started on what your Brain was saying behind your back about that one.

And when your feet were flying up past your ears and you were going down like graceless sack of bricks, you didn't once think about me. No. You thought, "Protect the dog!" as you held him lovingly to your chest as you were falling. NOT once did you think PROTECT YOUR SPINE! Nooooo. It was all about that pathetic farting little dog who perpetually vomits on your pillow. Seriously Tanis? What is it about that dog you love so much?

I used to be bendy. When my Spine wasn't such a b!tch.

I thought then, after you were laid up for almost three months in excruciating pain that you finally heard my pleas and would start to pamper me in the manner I want to become accustomed to. I was sure that you would never take me for granted again. You were tender with me, protective even. I thought we finally had something.

But no.

You went back to your fickle ways, ignoring me and putting the needs of your children and that dog before me. Lifting them. Holding them. Carting them around like they don't have legs. Sure that new son of yours can't walk. But your eyes, well they talk. They tell me he slithers where he wants to go. They tell me about all the times you carry your son around even though you have other people around to do it for you. Sure you're the kid's mother. But I'm your SPINE. Why won't you love me the way you love him?

So I asked for help. I enlisted that lovely little neurologist to tell you about all the risks of not loving me enough. He was a smart man Tanis. He warned you. I was there. I heard. And when he so kindly took matters into his hands and lovingly repaired me, I thought you finally had my back.

And you were so good to me. You took it easy. You let other people help you lift that boy of yours. You let the dog stay on the darn ground where a dog belongs. We were finally on the same page, you and me. It was as it should be, you respecting me, me not killing you.

What changed Tanis? Why did you become so fickle? You knew I was weak. The doctor told you in September to be careful for me, to pamper and protect me. He told you to bend with your knees! You knew all of this! I thought we were tight!

And then on Saturday, you threw it all away. To change a damn diaper. You may as well have ripped me out of your back and beat me against a rock. You once again forgot all about me as you bent down to lift your kid up. Where was the bending of the knees Tanis? Where was the 'let other people do your heavy lifting for you' Tanis? Once again you forgot all about me as you played your mom card and hung me out to dry.

Well now I'm all busted up and you are flat on your back and neither one of us are happy. You are walking around like an ugly old hunch back with hairy legs and long boobs swinging in the wind and I'm all twisted up and my half my discs are bulging out like a 60 year old man's beer belly who is wearing Speedos two sizes too small.

Neither of us can stand up straight and thanks to your SuperMom complex we are both hopped up high as kites on codeine.

Where was my love Tanis?

What is it going to take to get you to pay some attention to me? You seem hell bent on destroying me and replacing me with a bionic spine. I'll tell you something lady. Nobody will bend over backwards for you the way I have.

Remember that.

And grab me some damn ice.


Your Spine.

Post Edit: Big thanks to Babble for once again naming me as one of their top 50 Mom bloggers. I'm honored to be included in such fine company and thrilled they named me as one of the most confessional bloggers out there. If you are looking for some new reads on the Internet you should take a look at the list. It is jam packed with goodness. Also be sure to go to their nomination page and nominate your favourite bloggers. It's a great way to discover new reads and to support your favourite bloggers.