WIS, That was Fun!

Why I Sewanee (to my time,) that was fun!

So, yesterday, I took some stuff to Goodwill and the KID that was working there started coming on to me. Seriously, coming on to me - stayed outside to talk to me, coming onto me.

I stifled an impulse to point out,

“You do know that I am old enough to be your mother, right?"

  

I didn’t say it  ‘cause I didn’t want to watch him throw up on the pavement. Hahahaha  Do you know the last time that happened to me? Yeah, me neither. But, that wasn‘t what was so much fun. That was only mildly amusing.

This was F.U.N.

Now this might look like a boring picture of horse trailers. And, it is. But I parked that sucker, the one on the right, I PARKED IT! All by my little ole’ self.

I guess, to most of you, that isn’t a very big deal. And, why would that be considered FUN? Well, of course, there’s a story and most of it would not be described as so much fun.

Okay, so here goes.  A while ago, I bought a POS horse trailer that sat exactly where it was for about a year and I kept saying to myself, I need to learn to pull it, I need to learn to load my horse into it, I need to learn to back that thing.  I had no idea how to do any of it. Horse trailers are one of those necessary evils of owning a horse.  Most people aren’t very good at any of it and they just do the best they can. In fact, a lot of accidents happen to people and horses pertaining to horse trailers because horses don’t like “metal cages on wheels” and most people aren’t really savvy enough to be dealing with 1000 + pound animals who are frightened of “metal cages on wheels.”  It’s just ugly waiting to happen.

Eventually, I'd ended up pulling my trailer behind my truck enough to be relatively comfortable, I’d spent lots of time with Horse working on loading and unloading, loading and unloading, loading and unloading. What I hadn’t done was really learn to maneuver that thing.

Let’s talk about my brain and learning.
It’s a bad subject.
I score, literally, off the charts on IQ tests. It’s not the intelligence, it’s really the learning.
I don’t.
I don’t learn.

Let me clarify.

I’ve often said that I have “dumb blonde disease,” and  it’s true. The hair is brown but the brain is blonde. I remember my ISC (Independent Studies Class-the egghead class) teacher from elementary school.  I easily scored high enough to be in there but I couldn’t do the work. For instance, we had to do these 3 dimensional puzzles-she’d dump one out in front of you and then stand over you with a stop-watch while you put it back together. Then, she’d dump one out in front of the next kid. Every week, the same thing. I sucked at this.  One of my friends, she was on, like, level 9 or 10 by the end of the year. I never finished the first level, not the first one. I think Mrs. ISC Teacher wondered what in the hell she’d done to deserve me.

If I can take it, whatever it is, home and teach it to myself, I will eventually be able to do it, but if I’m gonna have to comprehend it in front of other people (ie a teacher and other students) and then apply it, if there is any pressure at all-FORGET ABOUT IT! It’s like a feed-back loop-the more pressure (internal as well as external) the more steam comes off the top of my head in complete frustration, the more I bumfuzzle around and get nothing done.

My horse trainer and I have talked about this (it took me weeks to learn to tie that dumb rope halter, weeks!)- she has got to be the most patient woman on earth. It’s not like it’s rocket science, I look at the problem and I KNOW that it’s simple but I CAN. NOT. MAKE. MY. BRAIN. LEARN. AND. APPLY. Not quickly anyway. I’m gonna have to try and try and try and fail and fail and fail and sleep on it. And, sleep on it, again.

And, finally, (sometimes, months later) once I have, and understand, ALL the information, THEN, I can make it work. I will probably be able to do it really well, at that point. But it’s a lot of failure until then. She says that I process like a horse. That’s kinda cool.

No, it sucks. It is no fun to feel like the dummy in the class all the time.

Meanwhile, my POS horse trailer turned out to be a P.O.S.-I know, shocker.  And so, eventually, I had a brand new horse trailer sitting in my drive-way. A brand new horse trailer that needed to go to the barn and be BACKED into a spot.

Now, I could have asked my husband to do it but I’ve always wanted to be one of those women who is self-sufficient:  Attach my horse trailer to my truck? Load my horse into it? Drive it cross-country? Park it between those two trees without a scratch? No problem!! <little confident bobble of the head> I’ll make coffee while I do it!

Yeah, I’m never gonna get there if I let other people do this stuff for me…but it’s so much easier if they do. I HATE being the dumb girl.  And, have I mentioned? I don’t learn quickly.

Unfortunately, taking this trailer to the barn- this is not an easy thing to do. This “spot” I’ve got to take this trailer is not very big.  It’s sorta a box between a driveway, two barbed wire fences and a bunch of other trailers- and you‘ve got to BACK INTO IT-stuff in front of you, stuff in back of you and stuff on both sides. AND, there is no guarantee that there won’t be a crowd at the barn, a crowd to watch me fail- MAJOR PRESSURE. I have no idea what I will find at the barn, I have to show up and do it. And, I can’t.

But I've got to try, so I'd loaded up the the trailer and was sitting at Shane’s Rib Shack (because it was the only parking lot that I could find where there was enough room for me to park and then pull straight out with the trailer) eating fries and waiting on courage to descend from on high and smack me in the head. It wasn't happening.

I was completely overwhelmed. I mean, I was almost in tears and the fact that I was almost in tears had me…almost in tears from frustration.  Good god, A-Girl! It’s just a horse trailer, it's just backing a trailer into a parking spot. You can do this.  No. I can’t.

I texted the barn manager, maybe I can do this if someone is there is help me (Yeah, I know, I’ll never learn if I let them take over, but I’m chickening out.) She won’t be there but there is this church with this great parking lot between where I am and the barn. A parking lot? Has she not met me??

So, I texted Best Barn Friend. “You can do this! I believe in you!” she texted back.

And, I headed to the church parking lot. It was perfect for failure-big, open space, no other cars.  I took a deep breath, You are going to do this. You can figure this out.

Over and over, I put the truck in reverse, I cranked the wheel, I pulled forward, I cranked the wheel, I backed up, straightened up, backed up, cranked the wheel. It was a battle of inches but, amazingly, I began to get it. The first time that I picked a certain parking space (third from the end) and pushed the trailer into it- square, tires up against the cement- I got out of the truck and LITERALLY jumped up and down. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

I kept going-  this spot, now that one.  I did this so many times that I was dangerously low on fuel when I headed  home. I tried NOT to think about the guys inside the church, “Hey Jimmy, come look at this! WHAT is that woman doing??? Do you think she knows that we don‘t have any horses?”

Finally, I headed to the barn. It wasn’t perfect, I had to manage panic the whole time, and it probably took me 100 more moves to do this thing than it would have someone else but I DID IT!

<silly happy dance>

(At some point, I’ll have to move that trailer again but I’ll break down and cry worry about that when I get there.)


Things, that having “dumb blonde disease,” has taught me:

Fail. Fail. Fail. Until you get it right. Success is just being stubborn one more time than you fail.

Use your friends, that’s what they’re there for. You need encouragement? Ask for it.

Park your pride at the door. If you only attempt the things that you know you‘ll do well, you’ll never learn anything new. Learning to do something is all about doing it badly, for a long time (for me, a very long time). Persistent is much more important than talent.

What you think about you is much more important than what other people think about you. Most people, before they get to know me, really underestimate me-that’s their problem. I hate it but there’s nothing I can do about it except go home and sit on my couch so I won’t be underestimated. Not gonna do it.

Celebrate the small things. If it’s big for you, it’s big. A contented life is full of celebration over small things.

And, when you struggle and struggle and OVERCOME. That is FUN!


(Oh, and I did all this with a 3yo and a 4yo screaming in the backseat -put that in your pipe and smoke it!- I am Woman, hear me roar!)