Sister, Please!

Tales from the Hood

It was the THUD heard round the world January 10, 2009

I’d like to think I’m pretty steady on my feet.  My feet have supplied me with great balance for 30+ years and I have come to rely on them.  They have, however, become wider and flatter since having kids, thus the custom orthotic inserts.  Add to that my complete fear of falling, fear of heights and anything more exciting then stepping off a curb and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.  Occasionally, I will be shopping in a mall and walk past a railing on the 2nd floor.  I suddenly see myself being thrown over the railing and falling to my death or at least severe injury.  Some of you may read that and think, Okay FREAK!  Well, I admittedly call myself a freak, but I’m a safety freak not a run-of-the-mill lock your doors and hide your valuables FREAK.  You may look at a situation and see fun, excitement or exhilaration.  I see impending danger and accidental dismemberment.  I’m not exactly sure what all contributed to my safety freakishness but I did suffer from extreme trauma as a child.  My dad took me on the JUDGE ROY SCREAM rollercoaster after I begged him not to make me.  I had snot and tears dripping from my face, I was practically hyperventilating and he still took me.  I never quite recoverd from that fearful experience and it took me 20 years before I would even consider riding another rollercoaster.  I have relaxed over the years and having 3 kids definitely helps because you can’t control everything all the time.  I do remind them of the simple pleasures of life, like wearing a helmet while riding your bike, looking both ways before crossing the street and the most important—don’t share hair brushes or hats or I will shave your hair off if you come home with lice!

Now we’ve come to the meat of the story where all the “safety first” tips in the world wouldn’t have saved me from my impending doom.  I was at my son’s basketball clinic where for almost 2 hours around 30 boys run wild and practice a variety of basketball skills.  By the way, they’re 7, so you can imagine the amount of energy bouncing around the room.  The facility is huge and they have an upstairs area for the parents to sit and watch their children and/or socialize with the other parents.  The seats are screwed into the ground and set up on about a 4 inch platform to make it easier to see over the railing.  On the railing in front of every other seat there are signs that say “Watch your step.  There is a small step behind you”  I looked up and down the row of seats and took notice of the vast quantity of signs asking us to watch our step.  As if we were the clumsiest set of people know to walk the face of the earth.  I laughed out loud and thought, wow they must think we are all just going to simultaneously fall off this tiny 4 inch step and break something.  As they say [and I happen to agree], everything happens for a reason.  So somewhere out there God was trying to tell me, “Hey! You! Read the sign! Pay attention!  It could happen to you!”  I stood up near the end of the training session, thinking I would grab a quick snack from the vending machine for my son and then we’d be on our way.  I reached into my purse and grabbed my wallet and turned without thinking of the 4 inch drop I would be encountering.  The next thing I knew I was doing a face plant on the ground with my legs splayed in opposite directions and my dignity laying there on the floor completely spent.  It was a hard fall, not a slip.  It was a complete collapsing of my limbs not a simple trip.  It was without a doubt, THE THUD HEARD ROUND THE WOLRD!  I stood up completely stunned and embarrassed and did the walk of shame all the way to the vending machine.  Let this be a lesson to all of you—READ THE SIGNS and FOLLOW THEM!

 

Holy Moley! November 12, 2008

Filed under: Dr's Visits, Embarrassing moments, Health — sisterplease @ 8:43 pm
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Gone are the days of rubbing Crisco or Baby Oil all over your body, while soaking in the sun and getting burned to a crisp.  Now there is SPF everywhere we turn.  We have it in our powdered AND liquid makeup products, our moisturizers, our lip balms and of course our regular sunscreen products.  I for one, stay out of the sun.  when I was a child we weren’t as ultra-aware as today’s generation.  So I joined the sun-goddesses and lathered up and burned one too many times back in the day.  I have never been able to tan without gaining a whole new collection of freckles, speckled across my entire body.  In high school I learned to stay out of the sun or at least protect myself accordingly.  Experts agree that most sun damage occurs by the time we reach 18.  Well, I am far past 18 and my dermatologists says that my sun damage is still catching up with me from my youth.  That’s encouraging!  I can at least work at not accumulating any more damage now that I’m not a teen.  I visit my dermatologists annually for my full-body skin check.  There is nothing more humbling than standing naked in a sterile white room with nothing but a paper gown and a full-length mirror in plain sight.  Did I mention I also have a mole between my butt cheeks?  Yeah, that’s attractive!  So I have to nonchalantly stand there while my buttocks is spread for a full-mole-viewing.  It’s over before I know it and then it’s on to questions and concerns about changing mole patterns on the canvas that is my skin.  I told her I had several concerns about 3 new mole-like additions.  She examined them closely with her light-up magnifying glass and loudly proclaimed.  Those aren’t moles—they’re AGE SPOTS!!  [insert dramatic music here].  Yes, you heard right, AGE SPOTS!  Please keep in mind that I am not even 40 yet.  Oh, and those large spots on your face that you thought went rogue and joined forces with other freckles to make SUPER FRECKLES—Yeah they’re AGE SPOTS too!!  So needless to say, I will be receiving a full laser resurfacing of my face in the not too distant future.  Until then, in the immortal words of Shakespeare I stare down my age spots in the mirror and proclaim “Out Damn’d Spot”.

 

If all else fails…blame your kid June 9, 2008

Filed under: Embarrassing moments, Toddler Time — sisterplease @ 5:21 am
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Having just blogged about bra shopping with my eldest child, I was reminded of a funny story about her many moons ago [no pun intended] at the library.  We blame our kids for many things–gray hair, stretch marks etc… I decided to take it one step further one sunny day at the local library.  It is next to impossible to keep children quiet at the library.  Especially when they are of a certain age.  My daughter was pretty good at obeying the rules.  She was born this way–definitely a rules girl.  We looked at board books and checked out some picture books for her and afterwards I wanted to sneak in a few moments to check out some more grown-up books.  I was almost finished and then I leaned over to grab one last book and oops, some gas passed.  You know what I mean, right?  I let one slip, stepped on a frog, beeped my horn, cut the cheese, said hello to Puff, The Magic Dragon–I think you get the point.  I’m fairly quick on my feet so I said to my daughter “Excuse you, sweetie”.  She said “No mommy, you tooted”.  Try arguing with a 2 year old.  It doesn’t work.  After going back and forth a couple of times, I finally let it go and did the walk of shame all the way to the check out stand.