Now here is the deal. My mother is (and always has been) an amazing mom, and I would not be here today if it weren't for her. That being said, she was just a LITTLE over-protective of me as a kid.
My mom and I on Christmas in 2010 at 30 Rock
Many kids growing up with Hemophilia had to wear helmets and pads. It was just a way of life. (See Straight Talks 101 post for pics). My mother also put this amazing avocado vinyl padding on ever corner in the entire house. Yes. Avocado. It had to match the refrigerator. Come on!!!
Anywho. This story brings me to around age 11. And a friend of mine was having a rollerskating party. Yes. Rollerskating, not rollerblading. There was this awesome rollerskating rink where Birthday Parties were held with video games and all that stuff in Honesdale, PA (where Wet, Hot American Summer and Blue Valentine were filmed).
Now I have never learned how to ride a bike, let alone roller-skate. So I asked my mom if we could go up early so I could learn. My mom used to do Roller Disco so I knew she could teach me all the moves. So we make a date to go up to the rink so I can learn. Well, I knew that I was going to have to wear some more pads. My elbow and knee pads of course. The helmet. Maybe some wrist guards. Boy, was I wrong.
My mother pulls out an egg crate. You know. Those things you buy when you're in college to make those horrid beds sleepable? Yeah... You can see where this is going. She begins to cut this foam up and starts duct taping it around my arms and legs. But she doesn't stop there. She then proceeded to make a kind of vest and duct taped that to me as well. Needless to say I didn't fit into any of my own clothes. So off I go, in my brothers sweatsuit, looking like the kid from A Christmas Story, to the skating rink. And just FYI, I had to lay down in the back of the car because I couldn't bend my legs.
I do not have any pictures of this. I soooooo wish I did, but I have a picture of me bowling around the same age so you can get an idea of how attractive I looked (and look at how my fingers aren't in the holes because they weren't allowed to be. Finger bleeds...)
Okay. So we get there, and I go inside and everybody just turns and stares. See, this was the next town over. Everybody in MY town would have expected this, but here, I looked like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man wearing a wrestling helmet (with fabulous stickers might I add). We rent a pair of skates, and like I said, I couldn't sit down so you can imagine how hysterical it was for me to try and get these skates on not being able to bend my knees.
We finally get me in the the rink and my mom had to just keep pushing me because, in reality, I couldn't skate without use of my knees. We did this for about fifteen minutes and then I started crying and begging her to take me home. It took 30 minutes to get me into my pads. 20 minutes to drive up there. But only 15 minutes for me to have a break down.
I went to the party, but didn't skate at all...
I used to tell this story to friends as a horror story. Whenever I would get mad at my mom I would throw it back up to her. But now, I look back on this and realize, she could have said no. Maybe my mother was a little over protective, but she wanted me to feel like I was doing what the other kids were doing, even if I looked foolish. There is NO WAY I would be as active or as healthy of a human being today if it hadn't been for the way she raised me.
So let's all tip our helmets to our moms and dads and brothers and sisters. We may not like the way things happened growing up (or right now in the present for some younger readers), but it was all because of love.
I may have wanted brand new roller-skates, but my mom had the brand new key. (Come on. Did you not think I was going to quote that song after talking about Roller Disco? What kinda 'mo do you think I am?)
'Till we meet again...
Location:E 72nd St,New York,United States
Hehehe...there is a reason my nickname for her is Mama Lana! I'm glad I get to keep up with you via your blogging. *mwah!*
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