It’s week five of my bubby bloggy break. (Yes, I’ve spent five whole weeks away from my blog. And I’m enjoying it. Probably. Who knows? I promised myself I wouldn’t return until May, so you’ll have to wait to find out!)
Week five. We’ve had four wonderful guests providing invaluable lessons so far, and that theme continues this week.
Please welcome the inimitable Kim from Falling Face First! Kim and I discovered each other through a mutual love of word nerdery, and I always get a little excited when a new post pops up on her blog.
She tackles the mundane and the controversial with the same straightforward approach and wry wit.
She’s funny, she’s real, she’s clever, and she’s here! Hooray! Enjoy.
Walk. Don’t run.
Dear, dear Emily. About to give birth to your second baby. When you asked me to guest post I was so pleased and excited I knew I needed to share something important and meaningful with your high calibre readers. What an exciting and nerve-wracking and sleep-deprived and uncomfortable time. So emotional, the anticipation of meeting your new child, combined with fears of altering the special bond you share with your first. You will all love each other and smile a lot and it will be nice.
But I’m not going to talk about that. I’m going to talk about something MUCH more important. When Emily asked me to write a post, I went into my thinking room, and came back out of the shower 10 minutes later with not only clean hair, but also a revelation I simply MUST share with you.
It is this. RUNNING. It sux. Don’t do it. Running is designed for chasing venison with a spear. My venison is in a restaurant with a nice sour cherry sauce, and it’s cooked by Michael Buble while he sings to me. (Ok, so I don’t get out much these days, but I do still get to sleep, and therefore dream). Running is also for when you are BEING chased, say, by a wild boar. We don’t have wild boars in Australia. What? We do? Ok. Well you can run when you see one of them. But otherwise, you can slow it down to an easy walking pace. Running makes your boobs even more belly-button-bound than they were BEFORE you waggled them around near your hungry babies. Running makes you creak. Running makes you red and ugly. Running makes you want to cry (or is that just me?). There are usually no toilets along the way when you run and you may need to wee, especially if you think of something funny. Nobody usually claps you for running. There is no wine bar at the end of a run. When you run you’ll sometimes have to do it up a hill, and these are bad. When this happens (if you failed to follow my advice and started at all), you should sit down and ring somebody. I could continue in this vein for a long time, but you are hopefully beginning to understand the importance of my message.
I hope I’ve inspired you today. Stand with me, and sit down.
Kim is an editor, writer, mum, wife, substitute pancreas for her type 1 diabetic daughter, and supposedly also a person.
She’s trying to do it all. She suspects she’s failing.
Find her here, at Falling Face First: