What a difference 36 hours make.
On Monday I totally focused on my recovery, sleeping whenever he slept, and spending time on fairly low impact activities, to give the back a chance to recover a little as well. I also went to bed fairly early, not worrying about anything and had a goodish night.
This morning, I awoke a new person, felt 10 times better. Played and read some stories to Boeta, then got all the normal stuff sorted and by 8 am he was asleep again. My plan was to try to finish the closing off of the deck, repairing the gate and adding netting on sides to assure him not falling through and hurting himself.
We went to the shop, when he woke, something he enjoys and found amongst other things fresh hot bread that just came out of oven. I am not going to let slip such a chance, and it was still warm when we got home. I helped myself, nothing like this I figure, but gave him a piece as well and he enjoyed it so much, came back for more, hmm-ing as he ate it.
I got going again on the gate, watching him playing inside through the glass, or was he watching me? In any case got it done and when finished, I let him have the space for a test run.
After his afternoon nap, we played some more, then took a walk down to the beach, had dinner and fun bath. In the process of playing, something caught my eye, his bottle, the favorite one I thought we lost on the walk, Sunday. I have no memory of that bottle in the stroller at home, or playpen, never mind how it ended up under the couch! None!
I was more than a little happy at the find. Showed it to him, he also got excited and we hugged! He is now sleeping! What a difference 36 hours make, from mental loss to feeling calm and at peace with myself, finding the bottle just enhanced it, cherry on the cake!