Our youth pastor sends out a parent newsletter with a section called "Learn their Lingo" and it almost always reminds me that I'm getting older because there are often abbreviations or terms used in texting or chatting that I have no idea what they represent. For instance, today I learned what a "last texter" is. Like someone who always has to get the last word in, a last texter is someone who always has to have the last text. I'm probably one of them, for that matter.
So, this post is about a sign that I'm getting old. Here it is. Last night, Cora Sophia was trying to do cartwheels in our living room. We minimized and started attempting somersaults instead. After I gave her a good push, she flipped, stood up and said "You do one, Mommy." Before I could decline, Geron chimed in "Yeah, Mommy, you do one." and he started chanting "Mom-my! Mom-my! Mom-my!" And Cora joined in and was waiting with the most hopeful eyes to see her mommy do a somersault.
I am all for modeling behaviors and what not to help your children learn, but there comes a point where there are just some things one shouldn't do, but should let the child learn by trial and error. A somersault, if you are a parent, is one of those things.
As they continued cheering, I contemplated "Should I do one? The last time I did a cartwheel I saw stars. But a somersault doesn't take as much effort. Surely I could do one of those."
I got down on my knees. I assumed the starting position and felt a little push from the backside. "No, Cora. Let Mommy do it on my own, please. Move aside so I don't kick you." Once the way was clear of all toddlers, I put my head on the floor and flipped. IMMEDIATELY I FELT MY BRAIN DROP FROM MY HEAD, THROUGH MY STOMACH, AND INTO MY LEG. I layed flat on my back on the floor with my eyes closed, silent. After a few moments, I spoke. Once Geron realized I was alive, the laughter broke out. "YAY, MOMMY!" was the cheer from my beautiful (clueless to how much her mommy is crazy about her) little girl. I said "Cora, now you may tell everyone that your mommy has done her last somersault ever." So, she told her daddy. And maybe she'll tell some friends at school today. And in the meantime, I'm telling you. And because I can't do a somersault anymore without my internal organs shifting a foot lower, I have come to the conclusion that I am getting old.
I got down on my knees. I assumed the starting position and felt a little push from the backside. "No, Cora. Let Mommy do it on my own, please. Move aside so I don't kick you." Once the way was clear of all toddlers, I put my head on the floor and flipped. IMMEDIATELY I FELT MY BRAIN DROP FROM MY HEAD, THROUGH MY STOMACH, AND INTO MY LEG. I layed flat on my back on the floor with my eyes closed, silent. After a few moments, I spoke. Once Geron realized I was alive, the laughter broke out. "YAY, MOMMY!" was the cheer from my beautiful (clueless to how much her mommy is crazy about her) little girl. I said "Cora, now you may tell everyone that your mommy has done her last somersault ever." So, she told her daddy. And maybe she'll tell some friends at school today. And in the meantime, I'm telling you. And because I can't do a somersault anymore without my internal organs shifting a foot lower, I have come to the conclusion that I am getting old.
Actually, the fact that I even attempted to do one is probably an early sign of Alzheimer's.
2 comments:
Jamie is thrilled by the fact that his mother can still stand on her head... And does, occassionally, just to prove she can. But afterwards, oh! afterwards, I have a headache to end all headaches, and swear I will never do it again... until the next time.
Hilarious! (the story--I'm sure the actual event wasn't so fun)
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