What did Lance Armstrong do with his oversized heart that can pump more blood than the average organ? He became the number one cyclist. What did Michael Phelps do with his size fourteen feet and double-jointed ankles? He became the Olympic gold medalist. Which leads me to a question about my own daughter. What will she do with her freakish ability to put her ankles behind her head? Hmmm, so many options.
It all started in my womb, where she was in the jackknife position for the last three months of pregnancy. And out she came in the same position. I’m not exaggerating. If you see any pictures of her face in her first few weeks of life, there’s always two feet in the photograph too, right up next to her ears. Of course I thought she was the most adorable little frog baby ever, but clearly the audiologist did not when she literally ran from our hospital room.
And then just the other day, I got a glimpse of what she might do with her freak show talent. We were in music class and suddenly my sweet little innocent daughter lay on her back, brought her ankles up by her ears and proceeded to yell to one of her little boy friends, “Come here, Jordan!” Now in gymnastics they call this the v position, but in my world we call this the v-hole position. Everyone laughed as she continued to beckon him like a Las Vegas prostitute for the next five minutes. Everyone but me.
Now you can take the Jewish mother out of the temple, but you can’t take the worrywart out of the Jewish mother. All I could picture was my daughter fifteen years from now. You know, like the girls in that movie Mean Girls. The ones who wear black lacy lingerie, pop some cat ears on their head and call themselves a kitty cat on Halloween, when really we all know they’re not kitty cats, they’re pussy cats, minus the cats part.
I can’t help but think it’s because of what I was wearing when we conceived her. Nothing. But is it too late to redirect her not-so-hidden talent?
If she were Chinese, she’d become a contortionist in Cirque du Soleil. If we lived in Amsterdam, she could be the most popular girl in the red light district. A mother can dream. But here in little ole Northbrook, gymnastics class seems like the most obvious direction to push her. Who knows, maybe she’ll become the next Nadia Comaneech (Yes, I know that’s not how you spell it. Cut me some slack, I’m 8 ½ months pregnant and too lazy to look it up).