It is hard to believe that my kids are as talented as they are athletically, especially when you look at my history of falls. Okay, fair is fair, they got it from their dad.
I was always the one in the family who was afraid to be too much of a daredevil. I can remember being told not to wear my good clothes out to play. That was back in the days when you got dressed up for school and put your play clothes on once you got home. Like most kids, I didn't listen and of course fell putting a whole in the knee of my new pants. Also back then, you simply patched the damage and wore them again. Not cool! I wasn't allowed to wear my cross out to play. It was a beautiful and delicate light blue enamel cross with flowers on it. I didn't listen. I lost it.
Even as an adult, I have not been able to outgrown or outrun my mishaps. I have already told you about the Pittsburgh Airport campaign. A few years ago, just prior to that, my mother was visiting for some medical care. A couple of days before she arrived, I was carrying a large pile of "stuff" coming down the stairs. I totally missed the last step and I will swear that I heard my ankle break. The sound I made when I hit and my screams brought the whole house to my side. I am sure that some of them were laughing and I will find out who they are! "Doc" usually takes family injuries in stride and with little emotion. He wrapped my ankle up and told me we would take care of it in the morning! Seriously!?!
After arriving at the office in a wheel chair and getting xrays, I was sent immediately to physical therapy. The last thing you want to hear as your arrive at therapy is the staff saying "Oh my God!" I believe to this day, that someone else's foot was attached to my leg. It was completely unrecognizable! And by the way, we have 14 stairs in that staircase. I know this because I now count every step as come down the steps. Even my granddaughter can tell you how many there are - we count out loud!
We were just laughing the other day about me falling over a pipe in the school parking lot several years ago. It was one of those times where you pop up off the ground praying that NO ONE saw you! I did speak to the superintendent and his secretary about it. After they got done laughing at me, and I am sure after they went through video tapes; the secretary went out and had neon tennis balls put on top of any of those pipes sticking up. Gotta love your friends!
Unfortunately, I have noticed that my grandchildren seem to have inherited my gracefulness. Sorry gang! Or maybe I am becoming more and more like a toddler. Now there's a thought.... Have a blessed day!
When I was a kid, the original movie of "Willard" hit the movie theaters. I really don't remember who decided it would be a good movie to see or who took me, but let me just say that I have been terrified of mice ever since that day! I have no problem admitting that those furry vermin can freeze me in my shoes. It doesn't matter whether they are dead or alive - I am terrified!
My fear of mice and my reaction to them came up the other night as a topic of conversation. My boys have rescued me from their jaws of death on numerous occasions. The Ninja has been called in to rescue me from the evil little creatures! I have good people in my life! There are countless stories of their heroism.
Living in the country has been great. I loved being able to send the kids outside without having to worry about their safety. What I should have worried about was what they could find. Calvin came running into the house one day with has hands cupped together yelling that he had found baby hamsters! I don't know who was more shocked. Me when he showed me a handful of baby mice, or him when I started screaming hysterically while running in place. It didn't take long for me to find out that living in the country means that these little critters find their way from farm fields to the house. Personally, I believe that they have conspired to locate my house and that they are plotting their terrorist acts to horrify me on a regular basis. No one told me that this problem was a possibility when we moved to the country. My family always lived in the city. Mice were not a problem back home!
I have found them in the kitchen, in the canoe by the pond. Of course they practically own the barn. The Orkin man told me recently that they can flatten themselves to the size of a dime. Great! Just what I need to make more nightmares. I actually remember sitting and watching television one evening and one took a little stroll in front of the entertainment center. Oh yes, one of the first nights we were in our house, "Doc" woke up in the middle of the night to scratching sounds. As he investigated, he found a mouse stuck inside our new bathtub unable to get out. Thank God it was him and not me!
If there was an Olympic event for reactions to mice, the Gold Medal would be mine. I have been known to leap onto a kitchen counter in less than five seconds. I could rival Superman leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Occasionally my family finds it humerous to evoke my spirited reaction. My son in law has a fishing pole that he casts in his living room. Whatever is on the end of the line looks just like a mouse as it is reeled in. I was given a large rubber rat for Halloween one year. And then there were the two soft furry mice that were placed in my Christmas stocking....
And so, in my infinite wisdom I accepted a fitness challenge from my future daughter in law and her mother. We all represent Visalus and committed to a 90 day challenge. I added additional challenges at the health club to reach my goals because if I don't reach them, I will be holding a mouse. I don't think so!!!!!! I have succeeded for the first 30 days. Stay tuned.....
Wife, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Nurse, Grandmother, Friend...that's me in a nutshell!