I Think I Have Issues

Recently a few friends and I were making a list of things for our kids to do this summer when we hear the dreaded "I'm bored." In the midst of this list-making (which is absolutely one of my top favorite things to do), we kind of discovered that I....have issues. Yes, I know you are all shocked right now. Try to contain yourselves.

We have already established that I don't, as in can't, swim. Basically, I was so scared of the water when I was a kid that the swim instructor gave up and kicked me out. She sent me over the the "play" group with the babies, figuring it was no use. My mother, who was quite frustrated, never took me back. And so essentially I never learned. I can dog paddle. That is about it. And I never venture past the shallow end. (Which also means I do not water ski, tube, etc....a real handicap when you live in a town with a huge lake.)

In addition to that, I do not skate--roller or ice. Which brought up one of my top ten most humiliating moments in my life. When I was probably about twelve, I was on a church trip to the ice skating rink. I knew that I could not roller skate, but had been convinced by some well-meaning friends that perhaps ice skating would be my thing. (Perhaps if these "friends" had taken into account the fact that I have no ability to balance and no athletic ability, they would have suggested I pass out the hot chocolate instead.) Okay, so things were going alright as I held on for dear life to the high railing around the rink. Then, I cut my hand on the wire that was holding some holiday tinsel to the railing. I began bleeding everywhere, but toughed it out. (To this day, I still have a scar from my "skating" injury.) But the worst was yet to happen. The time came for the ice to be resurfaced and, as luck would have it, I was on the opposite side of the rink from the exit. Now, it took me quite a while to begin my death grip around to the exit, and so eventually I was the ONLY ONE on the ice while all those who had been skating, plus all those in the mall watched the "poor girl" who could not get off of the ice. Eventually I managed to get to the exit only to hear a round of applause and cheering. I know that my face turned as red as the blood dripping from my hand. It was at the very moment that I removed my skates and decided that perhaps ice skating was not my thing.

I also do not ride a bike. Not anymore, anyway. When I was in sixth grade, my dad and I were riding our bikes around a neighborhood that we had recently moved into. I was not familiar with hills and the repercussions of going down them at break-neck speed. I soon found out why it was called break-neck speed. I crashed and tore up nearly my entire body. I simply lost control of my bike and away I went down the hill, sans bike. A few years ago, I remembered that phrase "like riding a bike" and thought I would get on my dad's and see if I could still ride. That saying is not true. I could not balance worth anything. (Do they make training wheels for grown-ups?)

Yes, friends, I have issues. It would appear that I also have no abilities. I do actually have a few, it is just that none of them involve the use of major muscle groups. But despite the fact that I have issues, I am resolved for my son to accomplish every one of these things that I can't do. So when I post something and seem overly excited about it, realize that when Zach accomplishes it, it is an accomplishment for me as well. We all want more for our kids. Even if "more" to me means "normal" to you.