Losing My Nerve

I’ve decided that when I had children they removed my nerve along with my placenta.  I used to be up for anything; I’ve thrown myself off a crane attached to a bungee cord (twice), screamed my way round the tallest, fastest roller coasters, been catapulted through the air in a bungee rocket, hurtled around Cyprus on a moped (without a helmet or a driving licence), bounced about on banana boats, jet skiis and doughnuts, raced around the track at Oulton Park in an Audi TT, tried my hand at caving, kayaking and water skiing and I’ve travelled alone to Cyprus to become a holiday rep at the age of twenty two.

And yet the prospect of riding a quad bike this weekend has filled me with dread; I’ve done it, but only with someone else in the driving seat.  I’m more at home these days on the kiddies’ rides at theme parks and I’m happy to raise money for charity, but not if it means I’ll have to throw myself out of a plane.

I didn’t notice it happening and it bothers me more than a little bit but maybe it’s nature’s way of trying to preserve my dignity  ‘Cos let’s face it, after three children, sneezing, coughing and laughing are about as ‘extreme’ as my pelvic floor can take, my boobs are already gravity’s friend and if I was suspended upside down from a bungee cord for any length of time these days, my chin would sink into my hairline and I would literally have what all mums crave; eyes in the back of my head 🙂

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