Friday, July 31, 2009

Flashback Friday: Kink in my neck

This morning came far too early for Rachel. It came far too early for me and Andrew as well. Not to brag, but we were early for church.

I’m not bragging because it didn’t matter that we were early to church; Rachel was so grumpy that we could hardly do anything. She was actually pretty alright during sacrament meeting. That, or I just ignored her so effectively that I actually heard what the talks were about—that charity is the act of becoming Christlike.

The second half of the meeting she wouldn’t go to her class and would hardly let me put her down. She sat on my lap and cried, saying that her neck hurt…sooo bad!

She probably slept funny. We took her home after church, gave her some children’s ibuprofen, some lunch, and a nap. She woke up a much happier child and hasn’t complained about her neck since.

I used to get kinks in my neck all the time when I was little, but that’s mostly my fault, I think. I was not a very independent sleeper and would sneak into my parents’ room to sleep all the time, well into kindergarten. Sometimes my mom would let me climb into bed with her, but eventually stopped letting me join her until after my dad left for work. He always left early in the wee hours of the morning that seemed, to me at least, to be part of the night still.

My parents had a little couch in their room. Or maybe just an armchair. Anyway, when I would go in too early, my mom would tell me I didn’t have to go back to my room, but couldn’t get in bed with her. My only other choice was the couch, which must have been a rather small couch, maybe a loveseat…or just an armchair. Whatever it was, I couldn’t spread out on it all the way and my head would always be resting awkwardly on the arm.

Or, if I stayed in my bed, I would be sleeping on my stomach with my head turned at a dramatic angle to one side or the other, with my knees curled up underneath me, a sleeping position Rachel seems to enjoy, herself.

I would wake up with awful kinks in my neck.

I remember once borrowing a neck brace from my dad, perhaps on a Saturday—because he was home, and wearing it the whole day. I don’t know why we had that neck brace, but I’m sure it looked ridiculous wrapped around a 4-year-old’s neck.

I went to the playground and played with my friends, running around and having fun, so my neck couldn’t have hurt too badly. Still, I do remember what it felt like to have a kink in my neck at that age and it was like the worst pain I had ever experienced, so I had to pity my little baby.

Getting kinks in my neck now don’t seem all that bad to me. Maybe I’m just more accustomed to pain, or maybe I know that a good night’s rest in an ergonomic sleeping position will fix it up so it doesn’t seem like it’s going to hurt for forever…when I was little, though, they were awful! So as annoying as having a crying baby on my lap for the duration of primary was, I could do nothing but pity the poor thing.

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