May 27 2010

My Bad Knees – this is gonna cost me!

I’ve been an athlete in one form or another for pretty much my entire life. I was on skis for the first time at 2, golfing at 6, did all the track and field events I could enter, cross-country running, basketball, volleyball, softball, really anything with a ball.

Suffice to say that athleticism has been an important aspect of my life.

When I first popped out the kids I knew that sport would have to be pretty major in their lives too. I’d be fine if my kids wanted to be “readers” gasp. But they were also going to have to be athletic. In fact, I used to say “this family skis so if you want to stay in the family march your butt into that ski suit, strap on your boards and let’s go!” (admittedly it was a type-A moment but I think you get my drift.)

Turns out the little buggers are excellent athletes who excel well beyond any successes I had. At 6 they were both doing back-handsprings and can now both do back tucks! They’re in cheer-leading and it’s mad competitive and fun to watch.

My fearless 8 year old is routinely held aloft by other 8 year olds, often suspended 6 feet above a flimsy matt with only skinny arms holding her up. She seems right at home up there too which makes hiding my terror that much tougher.

Anyway, all this “encouragement” (let’s go with that rather than “pushy cheer-mom” shall we?) has now lead to one of my worst fears…dum, dum, dummmmmm….BAD KNEES.

Today the 11 year old and I headed to the much-put-off Dr’s appointment to discuss knee discomfort. Although to hear her tell it it’s less discomfort and more like “knives being stabbed into my knees”. Perhaps her flair for the dramatic could be attributed to her father…but I doubt it.

Anyway, so there we were at the Dr.’s office and within 30 seconds I’m out hundreds of dollars for upcoming physio, orthotics and new shoes. New shoes!? I just bought her those stupidly over-priced DC skate shoes and now I have to buy more? Ack!

I really have only myself to blame. I blame their dad for the messed up nonesense going on in both their mouths. (I didn’t need braces but daddio had them for about 12 years I think) So I have to take the heat for the crappy knees.

Oh, and as if it weren’t enough outlay of cash, she had to chime in with “what about this acne?”. That we can blame on dad for sure. He had a crater face for all of high school. Thank god I didn’t know him then or I wouldn’t even be having this conversation about genetics.

The acne question has already cost me another $40 in “prescription” product!

What’s the moral of this story? I think there are a few but let’s go with; don’t take your kid to the doctor…EVER!