You know how when you used to be in university, you would spend the weekend carousing and dancing and falling down hills and then on Monday morning you had a whole bunch of bruises that you weren't sure of their origins? Was this just me?
I feel like that now, except for the drunk part. And the carousing and dancing and falling.
It started when I was pregnant. I became severely clumsy, which is strange for me. I may have a semi-giant frame, but I have pretty good awareness of space, and also great balance. But when I got knocked up, I started running into things, kicking things, banging my head. One day I slipped off a step at work and bashed backwards into a wall. And almost every day I rammed my thigh into the radiator outside of our work bathroom - I started to feel like someone was moving it so that I would run into it, because my body seemed to not remember it was there.
But now I've entered a whole new realm of self-injury - mystery bruises. I don't remember getting them, but each morning I find at least one new bruise somewhere on my body (usually on my arms). And they aren't even little bruises. They're always bigger than toonies, often bigger than the circumference of a coke can.
I'm not sure if I'm getting them while carrying strollers and carseats, or while trying to maneuver said items into the car, or while playing with the kid or tussling with Tess. All I know is I'm not having as much fun getting them as I did when I was in university. Or maybe just a different kind of fun.