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Monday, November 1, 2010

First Sports Carnival...and the starters are in the gates...

Miss5 is in her first year of school, and was super excited leading up to her very first school sports carnival.  Being in Kindergarten, they had their own token event at the start of the day, a simple running race of approximately 30 metres that they had been pracitising each day for the previous couple of weeks.

I'm there, on the sidelines with all the other parents.  Miss5 is quite tall for her age, and as the Kindy kids are lining up, other parents are commenting on her height - she's a good head above most other kids in her class.  I, stupidly, glow with parental pride and put my hand up to being the Mother of such a seemingly athletically gifted child.

At this point I should probably explain why that was a stupid move.  Miss5 is the fruit of my loins, and as such, is  genetically hampered with a total lack of co-ordination, and a serious aversion to most sporting activities - especially individual events - especially running.  I spent my early school years suffering life threatening and  traumatic (but ultimately fake) asthma attacks at the start of any individual sporting event.  I'm fairly sure I'm the reason the town's Ambulance started showing up at our school sporting carnivals

So, picture a racecourse, where they parade the horses around prior to the race.  You check the horses out, decide which one looks strong and fit, like a winner.  Based purely on logistics, my child was the favourite due to the long legs and height advantage.

While the teachers are lining the kids up to start the race, the rest of the school is chanting faction motto's and war cry's from the sidelines.  Miss5 finds this very interesting, and has her head turned to the side to watch them.

FIVE times the teacher turns her around to face the front so the race can start.

FIVE times she turns her head back around to watch the older kids.

The whistle is blown, the race starts, and eventually all the kids start galloping towards the finish line.  Except Miss5.  She is not the least bit concerned about the race, and instead is more interested in the noise created by the older kids on the sidelines.

It takes a teacher running behind her, prodding her in the back the entire way, to even get Miss5 to break out of a walk into a half-assed jog.  She is zig-zagging across the track, because she STILL has her head twisted behind her looking at the older kids.

By the time she nears the finish line, every one of the other kids has not only finished the race, but have also been collected by their parents who have had time to watch the race, walk to the finish line, take photo's, and go over to congratulate their kids.

Despite this, I am still quite proud of her.  If it was me I would've taken a dive and done an ankle at the start.  At least she finished...eventually...without paying attention or even facing the right direction even once.

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