I’ve also started having numb hands at night. Tara had pain with her numb hands (if I remember rightly) and they stayed numb for a long time, so she had to wear braces and get steroid injections in her wrists with her last pregnancy (again, if memory serves). I don’t have any pain and the feeling comes back within minutes, and it’s at least better (and more interesting) than volcanic heartburn, so I’ll take numb hands any day of the week and twice on Mother’s Day.

I have a new goal to not go to bed until the dishes and laundry are caught up. The rest of the chores can be put off to the weekend, but I love waking up to a kitchen empty of dirties; it’s so much easier to start stuffing my face with pancakes that way. Tom thinks my new laundry plan (which includes having each family member take up and put away clean clothes right after scriptures each night and bringing down all dirty clothes after their bath) is inefficient because it involves daily trips with the hamper and daily processing of two batches of laundry instead of a marathon of washing and drying on Saturday followed by a marathon of folding on Sunday night.

I pointed out that at various times in the past few years he has agreed to help out more around the house by doing either the laundry or the dishes. This translates into him getting his hands wet approximately twice a month (usually right after I have an emotional breakdown, which is certainly effective, but also quite exhausting). So I don’t think he should be criticizing any method that involves me doing the work.

And finally (I’m remembering why I don’t usually do random posts like this, since humorous tidbits aren’t my forte), Chrysanthemum went out of town, leaving me with no walking partner. I had such plans. To walk anyway, or to work in the yard, at least, which is good exercise because I need to move some dirt and filling the wheelbarrow halfway leaves me completely out of breath. But shockingly I have  been glued to this chair for the past two days. And even more surprisingly, I feel terrible. Why is it so hard to do what we know we should in order to feel good?