Step On A Crack, Break Your Mother’s Back

My daughter often sings, “Step on a crack, break your Mother’s back” just as I did when I was young. I remember laughing and jumping over the lines in the cement and then forgetting the rules and running with my friends stepping carelessly on countless lines and cracks. I capriciously gambled with my own Mother’s health and well-being on a regular basis. But when Charlotte sings the rhyme now, I stop and tell her to step very carefully. Like so many nursery rhymes, this one seems bizarrely cruel. Poor Humpty Dumpty was worked on by a cadre of soldier and was never rebuilt to his former rotund self, and Peter Pumpkin Eater’s wife, an absolute victim of spousal abuse, was kept a virtual prisoner in a pumpkin shell. Perhaps worst of all, the Ladybug whose family home is destroyed by fire and her children lost, honestly the most horrible scenario imaginable for a mom.

The “break your Mother’s back” line came sharply into focus for me three weeks ago when my husband decided we should rollerblade down some big hills to prepare for our ski trip. Needless to say, parenthood has kept me away from my blades for quite some time. Before our daughter was born, Michael and I spent many an evening in Central Park flying along on our inline skates. I could stop on a dime and always felt safe even as we navigated the busy streets of Manhattan. It was a favorite activity of my step-sons and I loved that it was a sport we could all do together. On this occasion, my husband wanted me to weave back and forth on the hill recreating the feel of making turns on skis. Now I am sure it is obvious to any one reading this that a street is made of cement and a mountain is covered in snow. I remember thinking, “This isn’t like skiing at all”, but Michael asked me to demonstrate my turns and of course I wanted to impress him. I took the second turn, went up into the air and landed hard, right on my butt. For the first time in my adult life I was incredibly happy that I have a well-padded rear end. It hurt really badly but I was more embarrassed than anything else…. I skated some more, albeit very timidly, and we headed home.

In the next few days I thought about going to the doctor but did not for fear that my ski trip would be cancelled. Interestingly, the plane ride was excruciating but the skiing was fine. When I got back I realized I was sitting strangely, lowering myself into chairs and leaning over to the side. A week passed, then another, and if anything, my backside just hurt more and more. It was weird; I could run and exercise but not sit down. I finally called the doctor and found that there were tailbone or coccyx specialists. I am always fascinated by people’s career choices. When does one decide that examining tailbones is a cool job? I went in and three x-rays later found that I had a fractured coccyx. They told me it would take a year to heal. That’s right a YEAR!!!! Apparently since you can’t put your ass in a cast it takes forever to get better.

Here is the funny part. Up until the moment I got the diagnosis, I was constantly telling myself to toughen up. I would think , “Molly you are a total wimp… sit up and deal.” Now I am the complete opposite. Every time I sit down I gasp dramatically and family members rush to my side. My Dad said, “Aren’t you mad you went to the doctor? You seemed so much better before.” Truthfully I am glad and I am secretly enjoying all the sympathy. I love that I now have an actual excuse for not working out. I hadn’t returned a call to a friend and I said, “Did you know I broke my tailbone?” Broken bones make people stop short and they forget your mistakes immediately. Honestly, I feel that if I have to be in pain, I might as well get something out of it.

After a full weekend of martyrdom, I finally realized the Sarah Bernhardt routine had to end. Charlotte was running down the driveway and started in on the “Step on a crack” rhyme. She stopped herself and said, “Oh yeah Mommy, your back is already broken”. Perhaps I need to stop complaining…. But seriously my butt really hurts.

Comments

I know exactly how you feel! I broke mine during the Great Christmas Incident of 2006. It is very odd to gasp when getting up from a chair but to still be able to use the treadmill (crunches are out though). The bad thing is that like most of us I sit in an uncomfortable chair all day. But the doughnut pillow is the worst.

Please e-mail me as to where I can find out about these specialists please. I live in the uk and need some help with my coccyx which I believe is dislocated. Thanks xkharisx@yahoo.co.uk