Monday, March 04, 2013

The Law of "It Hurts When Grown-Ups Fall Down"


You know how when you're a little kid, and you fall down, it doesn't even phase you?  As long as your mom isn't watching, you just get back up and continue playing.  Or, if your mom is watching, you run up to her and cry for a while, beg a character licensed bandaid off of her, and then return to what you were doing, completely unaware of your injuries.  Yeah, well, trust me, this no-pain phenomenon of childhood wears off sometime during adolescence, and it is not a good idea to test this theory.

I am blessed by my Father in Heaven with many talents, but neither grace nor coordination are among them.  This fact doesn't usually bother me.  My dad tells me I throw like a girl, but I don't hear him.  I'm  too busy doing a rhythmless happy dance because the ball came within six square feet of him.  I occasionally bang my kid's heads on the door frames as I carry them through the house, and I feel really bad about it, but I forgive myself pretty quickly because I'm a pretty good mommy otherwise, and they seem to be pretty smart in spite of the bonks.  I have a hard time staying in my lane while driving down the road, but I haven't had an accident in many years, so I still venture out on a daily basis.  I figure no one's good at everything, and I don't let it get to me.

Friday was a day that will go down in history as the day I most regretted the combination of my lack of grace and coordination, and the law of "It Hurts When Grown-Ups Fall Down."  I suppose I fall down pretty often when compared with most grown ups, but I usually grab on to the person next to me, or some furniture, or put my hands out in front of me and break my fall.  On Friday afternoon, I was picking my way among the tide pools at Sunset Cliffs, with a baby on my hip, when I slipped on a perfectly dry rock.  I couldn't let go of the baby to balance or break my fall, so I just slid right to the ground, landing squarely on my left elbow.

There were dozens of people I didn't know at the tide pools that day, and they all turned their gazes like an alert flock of birds in my direction, to see me laying on the ground with a screaming baby in my arms.  My friend's husband ran over and grabbed my baby and comforted her, and my brother came to help me up.  The problem is, when you bang your elbow really hard, it hurts REALLY bad.  I haven't been exposed to such an intense amount of pain too many times in my life, so I didn't realize that one of my possible reactions to it is to throw up everywhere, which is exactly what I did while the entire city of San Diego looked on in horror.  I was so, so, so embarrassed!  For real!

So, once I was done ralphing, I hiked back up the cliff and sent my kids to their grandpa's house, while my brother took me to the emergency room.  There I received a tetanus shot and two shiny stitches to compliment my shame.  If I were a little kid, I would have been back in action by the time I left the ER.  But I'm a bonafide grown-up now, so I threw up twice more on the way home, and I haven't had a good night of sleep in three days.  Sheesh!








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