Tuesday, 21 October 2008

I know you're probably expecting a blog on something deep and meaningful today, maybe even helpful...or hopeful, well in that case, I'm about to disappoint you.

I thought I'd share my morning with you instead.

I've just spent an agonising hour trying to convince a doctor that the numerous scrapes and bruises that currently cover my body are not the result of me being a battered wife, but that I am actually nothing more than a very clumsy woman who has been roped into playing basketball.

'So why the bruises?' you may ask...Ha! not if you knew me.

I'm a tad clumsy, and if you substitute the word 'tad,' for 'totally,' then we'd be getting close. I spend so much time on my arse or flat on my face when we play that I actually came home with a footprint on my back last week. The slight black eye is due to my tendency to catch the ball with my face A LOT!

Now basketball may not be the obvious choice for someone as clumsy as me you might think, and I agree totally. But that didn't help me much when I got roped into it by one of Deion's over zealous (and basketball able) teachers.

We've found a wonderful wheelchair basketball team for Deion. The coach is a wheelchair user himself and plays for England, he has a great manner with the kids and they all love him. So because I was there hanging around waiting for Deion every week anyway, I apparently had no choice but to join in with the mums team.

'How bad can it be?' I thought, 'good for fitness, just throw the ball a couple of times, great.' Ha! I was very wrong. We may just be a group of mums, but we get quite competitive as it happens. The trainings fine, we're all smiles and 'how are the kids?' but split us into teams and tell us its a match and everything changes. No more Mrs Nice Guy!

The match looks more like a cross between a rugby match and WWF. And for some reason unfathomable to me, I seem to be right in the middle of every scrum/pale driver manoeuvre/five woman pile up going!

So yes, I may be a little battered, I may have a few bruises, but my goodness, I really enjoy the basketball. We laugh a lot as we pick each other up off the floor, and we are all prepared mums should the need to stem a bloody nose arise (it hasn't yet surprisingly). I enjoy the adult company, the female comaraderie and the vending machine does the yummiest hot chocolate.

Although I have to do is put up with Deions constant jibes about how rubbish I am compared to how fabulous he is. I really need to think of a way to bring that child out of his shell!!!

I invited the doctor to come along and see this phenomenon for himself, he declined, and although he eventually believed me about the bruises, I'm pretty sure he made a note of it on his computer.

Note to self, skip basketball when doctors appointment imminent.

Sal x

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