Well, that’s maybe putting it a bit strongly. Sasha has held up pretty well here, considering her jetlag and our erratic use of public transportation. She’ll walk for a while, run across the streets (holding hands, of course), and play happily at the Piazza Vittorio playground. But then comes “Daddy, I’m tired!” or “I want 抱抱!” or simply a whiny “Shoulders!”
Sometimes we give in, especially if it really is the late afternoon and she really is exhausted. (Hasn’t been napping much.) Often, we’ll bargain it out: “Sasha, let’s get to the next corner/the bottom of the hill/the pink building, and then I’ll pick you up.” It keeps her on the ground and happy, and lets me rest up a bit before the inevitable.
And so here’s what I’m curious about: After three years of carrying this kid around, in an Ergo, in my arms, on my shoulders, I don’t feel any stronger. The kid is as much dead weight as ever, if not more, and my back and neck and shoulders hurt to exactly the same degree they did a year ago, when she was maybe eight or ten pounds lighter. Why is this? Shouldn’t the regular exercise improve my strength and overall endurance? Instead, I’m achier than ever.
Maybe, and this is only a theory, Sasha is secretly sapping my vitality when I hold her—aging me and transferring much-needed energy into her reserves. If so, I think this warrants a feature in the New York Times Health section.