I Found My Inner Child
And subsequently injured my middle-aged self
Okay, I frequently act childish, but this was especially fun.
It’s possible my inner child was lost. I’ve always had a terrible sense of direction, after all.
I’d rather be camping, a memoir
I sit drinking shitty hotel coffee at 5am, having hardly slept at all. I remember when staying in a hotel was an exciting treat.
We made a special stop on our trip, which our son will absolutely love, but I forgot about the fact that I cannot sleep in hotels. I sleep so much better in a tent in the wilderness.
West Edmonton Mall
I’ve never been to this very popular tourist attraction, and our son is the right age to really enjoy something like this, so we made a special stop at West Edmonton Mall.
We spent the morning doing mazes, playing mini-golf, and getting whiplash in the bumper cars (you know you’re old when…). After lunch we hit the waterpark. That place is fun! Everything is crazy expensive, of course, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. so we sucked it up.
There were long lines for all the waterslides, but they moved quickly. And these aren’t just any waterslides, they’re waterslides on steroids. Rollercoasters on water. These things are amazing.
I started out on the kid-friendly waterslides and gradually worked my way up to the more adventurous ones. I swear I found my inner child. I distinctly remember saying “whee!” on my way down. More than once.
We stayed until closing time, meaning we probably spent five hours at the waterpark.
Have I mentioned I’m accident prone?
As we’re about to leave, I realize I spent all my time on the waterslides, and hadn’t yet tried the wave pool.
My 9 year old son is telling us he’s ready to go, and my 39 year-old self is all, “just five more minutes, please!” I run in and dive in the waves. Some people are swimming like me, but most are riding those big yellow tubes and cruising on top of the waves.
I want the bigger waves, so I continue moving into the deeper water. At one point a particularly big wave is coming toward us. I look up in time to see a kid on a yellow tube rising right in front of me, but it’s too late for me to do anything but brace myself.
As the wave crests, the tube — complete with teenage boy on top of it — comes crashing down on me, pushing me under. I’m expecting it, so I gulp air and brace myself. Most of the weight crashes onto my shoulder. When I come back up, the kid is fine, but my shoulder is most definitely not.
I limp my way back to where my husband and son are patiently waiting for me, holding my shoulder.
I’m okay, both my ego and shoulder are quite bruised, but I’m otherwise uninjured.
This is nothing new
I’m frequently getting myself injured, partly because I have poor proprioception, but also because I tend to be impulsive (shocking, I know!).
When we were in Banff, my husband took our vehicle to stock up on firewood. When he returned, I helped him carry the wood over to our fire pit. I put my arms out for him to load them up and he thought I had enough.
“I can take a few more”, I assure him, always needing to prove how strong and capable I am. “Are you sure?” he asks me, knowing my propensity for overdoing it in the name of pride, but I insist.
“Who needs to see where they’re going?” I ask jokingly, at the exact moment I turn and slam my leg into the bike rack, which is attached to our trailer hitch.
Ouch. Again.
So now I have matching bruises, one on my thigh, and one on my shoulder.
I survived!
Not only did I survive more than a few moments of foolishness, I also survived the crowds and sensory overload that is West Edmonton Mall.
I know I’ve mentioned (more than once) how much I dislike crowds, but as I said, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I sucked it up for the sake of my son — and my inner child.
© Jillian Enright, Neurodiversity MB
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We’re not done! We’ve got five more days left of this leg, followed by a whole month of camping in August.
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