Msieur the doctor! Come, I believe that my wife has a small stroke of the pump!
-Move away, John Chou, this woman clearly needs a good little massage Balinese-ritual-the-flowers-of-spring "-the-spa-des-Cinq Mondes!
Quickly, bring me a little background music and a string of paper! I will save your wife, you hear me? Hold on, It'll go, I promise!
-Mazette, I hope! other There is give baths tonight, huh.
(yes I'm Dialogue in my spare time)
Hello boys!
I see my follies television have surprised some (see previous post comments): Some readers who know me do not expect to see a "bulldozer", a "tank", a kind of Josiane power 10, tattered and completely hysterical. A crazy, what, thank you very much (at least I see that my blog not define me wrong).
And they fell on a person rather quiet, gentle and quiet enough.
Yes well I'll tell you one thing: the real Navy lies somewhere between these two specimens.
must admit that to speak épisio and puerperium, I was not the most relaxed of all. Seeing me in the picture, I found myself stuck frankly elsewhere. I always say that two objectives in mind: that the show is seen by my parents and I do not pass Zapping. That thing made.
But we must also say that all that crap (or masterpieces, it depends) I say on my blog, it's also a way to express myself. And fortunately for my family that I am not barred as in real life. Although, I admit, behind my tunes quite traditional and rather preppy I'm pretty lit bulb (say it's my rock and roll side, after all normal consequence of a long education among nuns) .
short. Since my fifteen minutes of fame, then, well ... what? Hmmmm ...
Oh yes:
I realized that strength to carry my son still on the same arm, I screwed up the back. The doctor will prescribe me some rehabilitation sessions at the physio to rebalance my back! Usually, what she sees in young mothers is rather tendonitis of the elbow.
But here I must confess, bring my son in his arms, or sling, + daughter / races / my bag / and other stuff, well it made me complete.
Without speaking to my two children in their car seats in the Twingo, which turns out to be the worst torture.
Imagine a Twingo has no rear doors, we must seriously look to install them. The large faces the road still passes. But the baby is still back! And since there is no room to squeeze between two seats, I am obliged to pass over his car seat (which itself almost touches the ceiling of the car, so there is huge).
short, you imagine the headache, especially when my daughter, for example, decides to refuse to sit. (It's funny).
The result of all this is that my body let go completely! And no days off as possible, of course.
So I think you prepare a future post on sports events of the young mother (and father of the young, too, yes yes, let's not be too bad faith), often reaching a very high level, yet very rarely rewarded with medals, I know. Not to mention the nice little massage after exercise by a physiotherapist sport ... I have, oddly, never seen my house yet.
(I'd also like for some time you lay a post on feminism, but why should I gather all my brain and I find time. It is close to my heart, I'll try to keep myself )
soon, I'll try to get up (yes, I wrote this post on his knees, I managed to reach my computer to crawl, it took me two or three hours but that would I not for your eyes only!).
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