Now that the chicks are out of the nest I’m nurturing a new side effect–fearlessness. Okay, not exactly fearlessness, but I’m finding that I’m more drawn to crazy antics than I used to be. Perhaps this effect is common in empty nesters–or at least with the baby boomer ones. Were we not the VW bus driving, world-changing, stickin’ it to the man, try-anything generation? There must be some latent drive lurking beneath my ex-helicopter mommy exterior–and dammit–it’s getting my attention. So I crammed my not-so-perky butt into a wet suit, strapped 16 pounds of weight around my waist (apparently I’m very buoyant) and jumped in. And immediately FREAKED OUT.
There I was in the ocean, treading water like a madwomen, embarrassed and humbled. What happened? I aced the pre-ocean part of the lesson. In the swimming pool I was amazing–a scuba diving machine if there ever was one. I was practically one of those Discovery Channel shark chasers. My mind frantically tried to grasp where things went terribly awry…
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