Sometimes we as mothers push ourselves. Heck, we as human beings push ourselves. We often forget what it means to rest. Even with a day of rest once a week we don’t know how to rest. At least I don’t. I don’t even realise that I need to rest my body until I crash, either with flu, or by breaking my foot. Yes, I broke my foot. Only now that I’m off crutches (at least for a bit of the day until my foot has had enough) and hobbling around on my Aircast (like a moon boot but shorter) I feel I can face it and write about it.

So I broke my foot one Saturday afternoon when I decided I’d join the weekly family soccer game. I played my absolute best, and didn’t get near the ball. Tackling my six year old, my foot gave way (not having even touched the said ball) and buckled. Not wanting to ruin their game, I got up and told the boys to keep playing as I hobbled off into the next six weeks of a fractured fifth metatarsal.

My soccer career was over. I was humbled in more ways that I can explain. I wasn’t super woman, not super mom, not super anything. I couldn’t drive, couldn’t walk without crutches, which meant I couldn’t pick up my two year old, and couldn’t make a cup of coffee unless I drank it by the kettle. I had to stop.

Ironically the week before I had felt overwhelmed by the million different things I had to do. There wasn’t enough time, and I was exhausted, and I couldn’t admit it to myself. I ignored the triggers and warning signs of overwrought tears and frantic jumping from job to job in the middle of jobs. So I believe God (or if you like a higher power) intervened and stopped me literally in my tracks. I believe it was a kind, loving act, where I had to see that it was okay for me to be taken care of for a change. The Princes could bring me glasses of water, breakfast in bed is allowed, and the world goes on without me behind the wheel (we hired a driver).

The children came home from school to a mother who was home and relaxed. I spent more quality time with them than I had previously. I wasn’t ratty from being in the car all day. I was rested and quiet. The home was rested and quiet. (Well as much as it could be with four rambunctious Princes.)

The downside was down of course. No yoga classes. (Although I organised some amazing private yoga classes with Nadine Hurwitz, where I could work without standing, highly recommended for anyone with an injury.) I couldn’t clean up easily, so the house became slightly messier than usual. The Princes for all their help, also ran a bit amuck with no mother able to run after them. Crutches are officially exhausting, and I’m thrilled to be getting out of them. You look different, and are different from everyone else around you. In a room full of people it’s not so simple to move around. I imagine for people who are permanently disabled it’s isolating and only with a continuous good attitude do you get through it.

So I’ve learnt to have more compassion for those who are physically disabled or injured. I’ve learnt to be so grateful for the health I do have. I’ve learnt that anything can happen in a split second so it’s a blessing to be able to live in the present. I’ve most of all learnt that I need to rest and am committing to doing so in the middle of the day for 45 minutes, either sleeping, reading, or meditating. Where I renew my energy for the day. For myself, and myself alone. That is the right of a mother, a woman, a person anywhere.