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August 6, 2009

Mom Knows Best

They should have listened.

My 12 year old youngest son was recently diagnosed with Juvenile Arthritis and had a follow up visit with the Rheumatologist on Monday.

Middle school football camp also started Monday.

I’ve been worried about this for months.

Jordan has always marched to his own beat. And it’s never been anywhere near the beat of a marching band at a football game half time.

He spent hours drawing, writing stories, and teaching himself the piano when he was younger. Outdoor sports? Hardly.

We tried soccer once, and my pale white creative writer nearly passed out in the Texas heat.

Other than swim team, which involves trees and water, let’s just say a Heisman Trophy is probably not in his future.

But, he’s determined to follow in the footsteps of his Jonas Brother like siblings and play football just like they did.

I tried to talk to my husband about this. But, I’m completely outnumbered by four males in my house when it comes to sports.

I pleaded in vain, ‘He doesn’t even really like football, he’s going to get clobbered!’

His oh-so-male response? ‘He’ll be fine. I played center and I’m not that big.’

Right. But, you are built like a bulldog. A cute bulldog, but short and stocky and things landing on you would not be an issue.

Jordan is built like a string bean plant that someone sprinkled too much plant food on. Tall, skinny, adolescent feet and hands way ahead of his frame.

I've envisioned a 250 pound Texas seventh grader landing squarely on my skinny kid’s face.

Yesterday, my neighbor picked up Jordan from football camp, and sent me a text message at work saying he was limping when she dropped him off. She was worried.

I called home immediately.

Jordan answered and sounded like a croaking bullfrog stuck under the front tire of an SUV.

Red flags went up. He sounded terrible.

I played nurse, asked about his joints, where the pain was located.

Finally, he managed to ribbit:

“Mom, have you heard of SQUATS?”

Red flags lowered.

I tried not to laugh.

‘Yes, I’ve heard of squats.’

I recalled the countless exercise videos I’ve done, and the millions of squats I’ve endured.

Should I tell him if he hurts this bad now that tomorrow his legs will feel like day old Jell-o?


‘This is not caused by arthritis. It’s caused by the couch.’

Pause. Croak: ‘The couch?’

‘Yes. When you spend your summer holding down the couch playing video games, with the activity level of a half-dead slug, squats hurt. I’ll bring you some muscle cream.’

Maybe I can bribe the coach into a thousand push ups tomorrow?

post signature


jdemott on August 07, 2009 said...

As a former couch potato, with lingering tendencies, I can attest that the body's reaction to beginning exercise is painfully confusing. My sympathy goes to Jordan.

With you on the other hand, I'll beg to differ. I am fully aware of your exercise proclivities over the years, previous years anyway, which far preceded mine. But, millions of squats? I'll give you thousands. Okay, who's counting?

jdemott on August 07, 2009 said...

BTW... very nice concise post. I am inspired to shoot for brevity. You're right, though, it's probably a lost cause.

Shannon on August 07, 2009 said...

I'm sure it's in the millions. Maybe even tens of millions.

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