Today I learned that my 7 year-old daughter has more energy
than Lance Armstrong on monkey steroids.
I love that little face of
hers but today I had to come to the reality that I’m just not the cool kid I
always imagined myself as. I’m the
kid that longs for her ugly brown chair and my Grey’s Anatomy on
demand. But today it was a girl’s
day of fun. We started out with
tennis, then we had our cheer, off to the grocery store where one gallon of
milk turned into a cheesecake, cupcake, cannoli and Kit Kats. Then we were off to lunch for chicken, we had to
wash our diabetes down with something greasy and a heart cath. Then we decided to watch a movie before
we swam. Would hate to get a cramp
with the diabetes and heart disease and all. Its always best to use common sense and moderation.
Once I got the pool ready to go we jumped in. I decided it would be fun to do a
cannonball. What I didn’t count on
was actually missing the pool, landing on my giant swan, sliding off and
hitting my head on the pool stairs.
Baby Girl on the other hand laughed hysterically. I’m pretty sure I have a concussion,
but you know what they say, don’t go to sleep, so I climbed up on my swan and
tried to float for a bit and decide if I was experiencing any neurological
abnormalities. At least I could
count to 10, that was how many breaths baby girl had worked her way up to
staying under water. That was fun.
While I was laying on my float I started having flash backs
of about 2 years ago when I tried to show her how to do a cartwheel. That also ended tragically. I still have a limp and twinge in that knee frm time to time. I think its just time for me to
realize that I cannot perform the acts I used to be able to do. I think my powers should be used
for more useful things in order to help her succeed in life.
 |
| I still shudder to think about this day |
Such as helping her pick out the perfect polish for her
nails and toes. Never the same
color, always a shade or two off.
I learned this from one of my closest dearest friends who would publicly
shame me if I was wearing OPI’s Meet Me In Paris on my toes and nails. NOOOO!!! It’s embedded in me, and now my daughter. I also can put together a stream
of obscenities that would make a seasoned vet blush. Sometimes you need a few good adjectives to get your point
across. I’m really good at
this. The proper handbag. She will never go without or carry the
wrong bag in Season. And if her
future husband doesn’t understand this, then he can’t be a part of our
lives. Her life, can’t be a part
of her life. Laughter
will always be in her life. My dad
was a funny man. He always had a
good joke or a funny story. I
credit him for my humor. He
probably wouldn’t be too happy about that whole obscenity part, I’ll try to do
better dad. And I will ensure that she knows laughter
will get through anything, even when it may not seem acceptable at the time. I will also be able to teach her the
importance of a good play list on her ipod and that car dancing is a real sport
and you should always be on you’re A-game. You never know who you will roll up next to at a red light
and be intrigued by your moves. If
Justin Beiber can be discovered on Youtube then the sky’s the limit for
her.
I wish I could still do the cartwheel and the
cannonball. I wish I still had my
cool moves. But I’m pretty happy
with my middle aged cool moves now.
I just need to pace myself.
I’m probably one obscenity and handbag away from the man sedating me!
