Silly Things Saturday: My Vertical Challenge

Well, Friday at ten came and went.  I was too tired to write anything by that point.  It was a long week with a sick baby, but I'll write more on that tomorrow.

So, after kicking things around in my head all week, I've decided to make this the next theme for a few weeks.  Every family has those stories that are told repeatedly at gatherings.  When you stop and think about it, very rarely are those stories of serious or crowning moments in someone's life; nine out of ten times it's the silly stuff that gets re-told whenever the opportunity presents itself.  People connect through humor and bond through laughter.  And my family has its share of the giggles when we get together.

I'm sure that by the time Punky is old enough to read this, she will have heard these stories a million times.  But since my main goal in writing is to provide her with something to look back on years down the road, such stories can hardly be ignored.  Some will be long, some short...some about me, some about others in her family...and eventually, if I keep writing, some are bound to be about her.

Before poking fun at anyone else's embarrassments, it's only fair to start with myself.  I've had some doozies, but a large majority of my shining moments tend to revolve around my inability to remain upright...

I guess you could say I am vertically challenged.  For whatever reason, the simple act of standing seems to elude me often.  I lost count of the number of falls in the last thirty-seven years, but my family could easily spew off the highlights.

The amazing thing is that I was such an athletic kid.  A gymnast nonetheless.  I was strong, flexible, and able to stay on a four inch beam.  I could walk the entire way to my grandmother's house on a train track rail without stepping off once.  I could do flips on roller skates.  I could climb almost anything.  And none of these activities ever caused me injury.

Walking, on the other hand...

My sister will surely tell Punky all about the time I went running after a boyfriend who left something in our house.  It was dark, it was snowy, and I wanted to catch him before he pulled out...  She stood in the window and watched as I made it about half way across the yard...then fell flat on my ass and slid the rest of the way.  The bottom half of my body came to rest under his truck.  Thankfully he heard my arms crash into the driver's door as I tried to stop myself...  My sister laughed for days and still cracks up every time she has the chance to tell that story.

My mom will probably tell Punky about the time I fell in front of the church at midnight mass one Christmas Eve.  I was probably around ten.  Again in my defense, it was a bit icy...but I seemed to be the only one affected by it.  Toddlers, senior citizens, a guy on crutches all made it in just fine.  I went down so fast my family didn't even know what happened at first.  Flat on my back.  Ouch.

An entire bus of school students could tell the tale of the day I struggled to board.  My first fall was directly in front of the bus while trying to cross the road.  I think I fell three more times before I managed to get up the freakin' steps and sit down.  Damn snow.  The entire bus was hysterical.  I wanted to die.

Her uncle will tell her all about the time I left for work in the morning and did a fantastic upside down turtle impression on the sidewalk.  Again flat on my back.  Legs straight up in the air.  Arms straight up in the air.  And I couldn't move.  This was my most impressive fall though.  I was carrying a cup of coffee and an open purse.  I landed without spilling a drop of either. 

No one witnessed my fall one summer morning as I walked to my car.  A narrow, sloping sidewalk led to the stone parking lot at my apartment.  Till this day I haven't a clue exactly what happened.  I landed on the sidewalk face first, rolled down the slope, and ended up on my back on the rocks between two parked cars.  I waited a few minutes before trying to move.  Everything hurt and I thought for sure I had a broken bone.  But no, I just tore my pants, busted both knees, scraped up my face and arms on the rocks, and was a half hour late for work because I had to change my clothes and tend to my wounds.

It pains me to say this is really just the tip of the iceberg.  I could go on and on with similar tales, but suffice it to say that I've fallen up stairs, down stairs, and over dog leashes.  I've tripped over my own two feet, other people's feet, and on any crack in the sidewalk larger than the width of a dime.  Add snow or ice to the picture and it's a recipe for disaster.  And people wonder why I grew up at the base of the Pocono Mountains and have never attempted to ski.  I'd end up in traction for sure.

Oh, and then there's the time I fell at fifteen weeks pregnant.  Technically I passed out and then fell...  When I came to about ten minutes later, I was flat on my stomach on the dining room floor in a puddle of blood gushing from under my chin.  I was then transported by ambulance to the hospital to be stitched and checked for pregnancy loss.  I knew my baby would be a tough cookie the minute they told me everything was fine.

But that story will be told to her by me.  It's a rite of passage in motherhood to tell your kids what you endured while pregnant.  And since I had no morning sickness, no indigestion, no hemorrhoids, no trouble sleeping, no crazy cravings, and only minimal aches and pains, this story and my C-section scar are all I've got in my arsenal.