Rehabilitation

I have decided it is time to start a slow but steady rehabilitation program here. Might work, might not, can't hurt, and can only help me feel like I am doing something positive to help my recovery along here.

Guess who figured out yesterday that she has a swimming pool in the back yard complete with a "therapeutic" spa built large enough for multiple children? That's right, me! I don't know why it did not occur to me before that water exercise is the absolute best kind for weak legs and weight issues. Probably because every time I get in the pool the kids mob me and it becomes a giant play fest, so I never associated the spa with anything peaceful and therapeutic at all. Well, that changed yesterday as I physically restrained the children in the house (with the help of two or three adults) and spent 30 minutes or so in toasty waters working those atrophied arms and legs. It felt great.

Similarly, as I prepare for Jennifer to leave, after two months of having her handle virtually everything for me, I spent time with my own calendar yesterday. That was way scarier. It took me a half hour, literally to plan two days of who needed to be where and who was taking them. I took copious notes, drove everyone around me crazy. I completely exhausted myself. But I did it. My calendar masters checked my work and I passed. But it was painful! Any rehabilitation program of mine, however, must include a mental aspect, so this is probably the most practical place to begin.

After, as I was floating in my "therapeutic spa" after my self designed physical therapy looking around at my yard and house, I was struck by how different everything looked since the last time I had been in the spa. I truly only get in the pool once or maybe twice a year, even though I like to swim, because I am always too busy and I really do think of it as just recreational for the kids. The last time I was in the spa I remember looking at our back porch and seeing how it needed paint, how the windows needed cleaning, how the potted plants weren't thriving, how I needed to change this or that about the house.

Yesterday, as I looked around I thought about how nice it was that we had such a large porch and sitting area, not to mention a pool for the children (and now me!) to use, I thought about how much fun we had picking out the now peeling (but potentially now "shabby chic" charming) planter jars when we were in Mexico. I thought about how nice the and green the grass looked and how great it was that I had had the energy the year before to switch the sprinklers out to water efficient ones that gave us this green lawn at a price we could afford! (I chose not to look at the vegetable garden at all, as a person can only come so far so fast.) I couldn't believe how critical I had been of the beautiful things around me only a few months earlier.

Clearly, rehabilitation is happening for me on three levels: physical, mental and attitudinal (is that a word?!). Three is a magic number, didn't you know?