It seems as though our family, along with pretty much everybody else in the world, is caught up in Olympic fever. Meg has become particularly interested in the ladies gymnastics. She thinks all of the flipping and tumbling is downright awesome...and I think we would all agree. Well... during one of our Olympic discussions tonight, Meg asked if I knew how to do a cartwheel.
This is where things start to go downhill.
A little back ground: For 8 years I did indeed take gymnastic classes (Ages 3-11). Was I ever any good??? We will take the uproarious laughter from my friends and family members as a ...no. While I loved the sport, my lack of coordination and ridiculously long legs made me a pretty poor student. Nevertheless, I do know how to do a cartwheel. Is is the most graceful thing on earth??? Imagine a drunk ostrich doing a cartwheel and you are probably pretty close to my version. But being the "fun" Mommy I am, I could not let my little girl down. She looks up to me. Who was I to disappoint? So after our evening walk (in the dark) I decided to give that ol' cartwheel a chance in our front yard. So I got up my nerve and dove on the ground with my right hand, threw my 50 pounds of legs into the air and then remembered ...my bad left wrist(carpel tunnel)... just as all of my weight was now being thrust upon it. My wrist decided to surrender upon impact, which left me face first in the front lawn. Thankfully my neighbors were nowhere in sight and my family was mostly kind. Bobby helped me up, shaking his head at his graceful wife, and we all went inside without another word about it.
Maybe I should go dig up my old gymnastic videos from 20+ years ago to show Meg..... and then again ...maybe not.