windless victory
"You aren't big enough."
I hated when she told me that. It was most likely her way of protecting me, but I saw it as her being wrong and accepted it as a challenge.
It did take me a hot minute to wiggle my little body up onto the swing, but I got there.
I held on with everything I had to those cold chains and felt the slight squeeze of the seat against my hips. I was up!!
now how to move...
I began leaning my head forward and back but nothing. I wasn't giving up. I kicked one leg and then boldly kicked both. Wildly. Frantically. And nothing.
I huffed. And then leaned to see some older kids climb on some other swings a few swings down and then watched as they pumped with ease.
Duh. I began to imitate and slowly. Back and forth. And eventually got a little movement. I was swinging. I WAS big enough. I pivoted to see where she had gone so I could flash a smile at her and in doing that over confidently leaned too far back...
When I opened my eyes I was flat in my back and the swing was above me sailing back and forth...
This was it. I was dying.
I could see.
I could feel (my back and head were killing me.)
I could hear.
But I could not breathe!
I rolled over and thought about the good times I had had in my sweet childhood just as my sister came back and helped me sit up. I took a deep breath, and felt immediate improvement.
Mom said I wasn't dying, I just got the wind was knocked out of me. She told me to be more careful next time on the swings. I swear my sister was gloating, but I will never know because I refused to look at her.
I DID swing, even if it was only for a second. And I learned a valuable lesson: when you do things you are too small for, hold on really tight.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I hated when she told me that. It was most likely her way of protecting me, but I saw it as her being wrong and accepted it as a challenge.
It did take me a hot minute to wiggle my little body up onto the swing, but I got there.
I held on with everything I had to those cold chains and felt the slight squeeze of the seat against my hips. I was up!!
now how to move...
I began leaning my head forward and back but nothing. I wasn't giving up. I kicked one leg and then boldly kicked both. Wildly. Frantically. And nothing.
I huffed. And then leaned to see some older kids climb on some other swings a few swings down and then watched as they pumped with ease.
Duh. I began to imitate and slowly. Back and forth. And eventually got a little movement. I was swinging. I WAS big enough. I pivoted to see where she had gone so I could flash a smile at her and in doing that over confidently leaned too far back...
When I opened my eyes I was flat in my back and the swing was above me sailing back and forth...
This was it. I was dying.
I could see.
I could feel (my back and head were killing me.)
I could hear.
But I could not breathe!
I rolled over and thought about the good times I had had in my sweet childhood just as my sister came back and helped me sit up. I took a deep breath, and felt immediate improvement.
Mom said I wasn't dying, I just got the wind was knocked out of me. She told me to be more careful next time on the swings. I swear my sister was gloating, but I will never know because I refused to look at her.
I DID swing, even if it was only for a second. And I learned a valuable lesson: when you do things you are too small for, hold on really tight.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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