Safety First or well... at least I'm trying

I've had mixed reactions to my decision to pursue roller derby. Most have been along the lines of "That is SO cool! I think you'll be fantastic at it!" some have been more like "Is that really a good idea?" or "Why in the world are you doing that?" and a few have been "What is roller derby?"

I myself have finally made peace with my decision. I no longer feel sick with worry before going to practice, I'm not laying in bed awake thinking about whether I'm being irresponsible to take up a hobby like this.

I've been to several practices now and I'm doing pretty well. I am in love with skating and with all of the challenging things I can make my body do on skates. I was worried about the risk to my body from doing this (which is still a real and logical concern) but I wasn't expecting the improvement. I can actually feel my knees and ankle becoming stronger and more stable because of the muscles that are targeted to do what I'm doing.

As I improve and am trying more difficult things I felt it was especially important to try and protect myself as much as I can. That's why I ordered these (which I think should be a part of every Fresh Meat package)



as well as these for under my kneepads. See. I'm trying to be safe. I am.

I am also going to watch my first bout this weekend. I have no idea what to expect. I'm actually mostly really excited about spending my first night with out Baby B. Yeah!

Oh and by the way. These are my skates, basically.

Deep Breaths

Well. It is here. Almost. Like, right around the corner. And um... yeah. I'm nervous. And not really about the pain so much because I always seem to be a champ when it comes to that, but the aftermath.

I haven't really talked to Miss A about it because I don't want to freak her out too soon. I'll probably wait until Monday morning to tell her. I'm worried about her. It was a very traumatizing event in her life and I hope it doesn't totally freak her out that I'm going to have a 'sore ankle' again for a while. At least she is older now and I can explain what is happening to her more clearly.

And then there is the baby. What I am imagining is that I will hobble out to the rocking chair on my crutches and Peter will bring her to me and rest on the couch until she's ready to be put back in bed. I'm hoping the arm to arm transfer won't disturb her. I'm hoping that I should actually be able to bear weight an carry her after a couple of days, thank heaven she is rather petite. I don't think I will be carrying Miss (40lb) A again for some time!

Anyway, it should be good times. At least I'm not pregnant this time. A whole week off together. We might be tired. We might be in pain. We might be grumpy. But at least we'll be together.

I Want to Believe

The responses I received on my previous post were very positive. I also couldn't help but feel that everyone was relieved that I'd finally written about something deep for a change rather than just TWILIGHT WEEEEEE! (Although having said that you should click the link because it might be my favorite teaser yet.) I think my only excuse for lack of substance could be sleep deprivation, oh wait, and the fact that I now share the computer with Miss A - aka "I wanna play my Dora game!!!" girl. But if you want deep, I can be deep. Check it.

So we've had our first skiff of snow. Right now we should actually be at Peter's mom's for a visit but due to poor weather she's actually stranded at Peter's brother's house and not at home and even if she wasn't the weather might have prevented us from going anyway.

From the first minute that I was out in the awful sleety stuff I felt a wave of sadness come over me. I was a bit confused because although the winters in my part of Canada are excruciatingly long, I am sort of used to them by now. It may have something to do with the fact that winter means December is on it's way and December is when I head back to work. It could also be the fact that Miss A not only loves but requires time outside each day to burn off excess energy. We still take her out but the frigid temperatures provide extra challenges to that task. Not to mention taking a small baby out in 35 below weather is not ideal. It won't be as nice as our summer walks to the playground that's for sure.

But it wasn't until today when I was walking like a 90 year old to the car with the kids that it hit me. I'm afraid. Afraid of falling. Afraid of breaking something again. I feel fragile.

I was thinking it is similar to the feeling of emotional fragility. When you've taken so much verbal abuse from people that you just can't even handle the thought of hearing another negative comment. I've experienced this as well.

But my ankle fracture wasn't the first time I felt my body had let me down. The first notable time was when I was twenty one and tore my ACL. It was a long and seemingly endless adventure of scoping then recovering, scoping, reconstructing then recovering, and then one year later tearing more cartilage and having to get it scoped again. I remember going back to Taekwon Do after my reconstruction and feeling so inhibited, so nervous that I would injure myself again. I hated holding back. Not being able to commit to my movements. It made me want to quit, to walk away and never look back. If I couldn't do it all the way I didn't want to do it at all. But I stayed. I stuck it out. And eventually I learned to trust my body again. To believe in it's ability to heal.

It seems this is a lesson I have continually been taught. Since that experience I put my back out seriously, had two pregnancies during which I was horrifically ill and the last of which I, of course, dislocated and fractured my ankle. Afterwards I lay on the ice, silent, unmoving. Everyone remarked at my bravery, my incredible pain tolerance. But on the inside I was breaking apart. Not again. I can't do this again. This can't be happening. I. can't. do. it.

But somehow I did. I survived two months of hobbling around on crutches while simultaneously being incredibly ill. I sometimes think it was a good thing I didn't have to work during that period as I'm not sure how I would have done it. I hate to even imagine trying to make it to the bathroom at work before losing my lunch all over the laminate flooring.

Not only did I survive, I triumphed. In less than one year after the accident I am walking normally. (something I seriously doubted I'd ever do again when I was freshly off my crutches) I am teaching fitness classes. I am training for an indoor triathlon. And yet, I'm finding as the anniversary of the incident creeps up on me as does the winter season, that familiar unsettling feeling is creeping up on me as well. The fear. The mistrust of my body. The feeling of being breakable.

I don't want to feel like a 90 year old who is afraid to leave her home for fear of breaking a hip. Not at 32 years of age. But it seems it is an inevitable stage I need to go through after enduring an injury. I need time to adjust to the weather and its sometimes treacherous conditions. I need time to gain faith in my body once more.

Mistake

I'm convinced that someone must have switched babies with me at the hospital. I didn't notice it until yesterday while driving to the gym. We were listening to The Cure and when I looked back to smile at Miss A she had her fingers in her ears as if to block out the music. It was then I decided there had to be some kind of mistake. No child of mine would ever do such a thing...

Beauty

Beauty

This is a deep one folks.

The other day I was at the gym. From afar I noticed a young man who had filled in a couple of times teaching the swimming lessons A was in. Embarrassingly, I find him to be extremely attractive although he is very likely over ten years younger than I am. It got me thinking though, I bet his parents are very proud of him. And then I thought, proud of him because he's handsome? I mean, I'm sure there are other things they are proud of him for but I bet they are glad that their son is a good looking guy. Proud that they made such an attractive human being.

Seems weird, huh?

And then I got thinking about my niece who is getting married this December. The fact that she's getting married has made me think of her a lot. I've been thinking about her entire life. About what she was like as a baby, a little girl, a teenager and now as a woman about to get married. I can honestly say she is one of the most beautiful women I know. For so many reasons, but also in a purely shallow way. She is the perfect height and weight. She is ridiculously physically fit and has beautiful hair and skin. I know for a fact that my sister and brother in law think she is beautiful. And I know that it fills them with pride. I also know that they have conveyed this to her as she has grown up. Maybe not by repeatedly telling her she was beautiful (although I'm sure they did that as well) but in the things they didn't say. And I also must say that despite her beauty she is a completely humble and grounded individual. Yet she has the confidence of a person who knows they are attractive.

And then I thought about myself. And this is where it gets ugly... no pun intended. I do not now, nor have I ever felt beautiful. There have been times when I think I looked really great (my wedding day comes to mind) but no matter whether I am told I am beautiful or not, I don't think I ever in the core of my being believe it about myself. Thinking back to my niece and the way that I feel her parents raised her and gave her this self confidence from the time she was born, I believe this is what I lacked. Not to bash my own parents but once I was thinking about it I don't think I ever remember my parents ever telling me I was beautiful, or pretty, or even cute. I don't remember ever feeling like they thought that way about me. In fact, if anything I think I can remember trying to prove to them that I was or trying to seek approval about my appearance.

This gets better.

What if my parents had brought me up the same way my sister and her husband have brought up their daughter? Would I feel differently about myself? What if my niece had been raised the way I had, yet looked exactly the same way as she does right now. Would she feel as beautiful?

I know I'm covering really basic stuff here and you are likely all going, “Uh, yeah duh Mama D.” But for me this was a revelation. Thinking of beauty in terms of people I actually know and not in terms of celebrities.

Finally, this all made me think about my daughter. And how beautiful I think she is. How I try not to get carried away talking about how absolutely gorgeous I think she is. Because it feels like I'm bragging. It feels wrong. I have worried about her, because of her looks. I feel so unprepared to bring up a child that is so breathtakingly lovely when I am so... not. But I've decided that it's okay for me to think she's beautiful. And to tell her so. Because then maybe she'll grow up to be a woman who is confident in who she is. Who knows that she can do anything. And no matter what anyone else ever says, she'll know in the core of her being that she is beautiful. And she will succeed.

Here we go Again!

My mom is having her other knee replaced this morning. All of you who remember the awfulness from last time will know I'm not looking forward to this. I'm taking her to the hospital in about 10 minutes. Prayers would be appreciated!

We're OKAY!

Today one of the fears that I'm sure all mothers who have a child in their arms while walking outside in the winter became my reality. That's right. I fell. While carrying Miss A to our house from the car. I was being careful but my feet slipped right from under me and I fell right on top of her. She sort of fell in the snowbank which sounds alright except that the snowbank has kind of melted and hardened a bit. I knew right away that she had hit her head on the snow and she started crying immediately. I think I had time to say “Oh sh!t!” on the way down.

All I could do was pick myself up and go inside with my hysterical baby. I took her hat off first afraid that her head might be cut or something. I couldn't even find a bump. Upon inspection I determined that she seemed to be okay. I checked out my knee which was stinging to find a bit of a scrape. I guess that the fall had simply frightened her which was why she'd cried so hard. She would have likely cried less if she actually had been hurt, tough little monkey that she is. I was relieved and now I feel like going outside and bashing at the ice with a sharp shovel to diffuse my anger. Honestly though I can't believe something like this has never happened before. I suppose I should consider myself lucky.

In other news I had my second counseling appointment today. It seemed more productive. I felt more comfortable and the experience was more positive. My counselor seemed warmer this time and I think we accomplished more. I was also much more emotional. I left feeling better but also drained.

It's going to be a long process. I need to make a concerted effort to stop looking at everyone else and thinking “See, they're normal. What's wrong with me?” Not that I want everyone to be messed up but I realize that how people may appear on the outside is not necessarily how they are on the inside. In fact other people may look at me and think “Look at her, she has it all together.” Which let me tell you, I certainly do NOT.



And finally, I don't know if you all noticed my new profile picture. I've been wanting to put up a new one for some time but none of our pictures seemed right. This one was taken during one of those rare moments when we caught A looking at the camera. And smiling no less! I think it's quite sweet. These days in most of our photos of her we get bizarre looks like this one...

Mama Fear

I am afraid of dying. This sounds dumb I realize. I mean nobody wants to die, right? At least, not right now. Not before they've grown old and had a good life. Let me try to explain.

I think I was like all kids, okay I wasn't at all, but I think most kids run around oblivious to life and death. They don't think about things like that and it doesn't occupy their thoughts or cause them to worry. When I was in my early teens I was still living in oblivion. I used to walk all over the city with my friends late at night and never thought about any danger we could have been in.

After my fifteenth birthday a couple of things happened that shook me out of my happy little dream world. One of those things was an altercation my friend and I had while walking to a nearby store in broad daylight. We were confronted my five girls who basically wanted to beat us up for no reason. I told the story here. The other thing was a horrible tragedy that changed me forever. One of my good friends was killed in a car accident.

Suddenly the world wasn't so safe anymore. I had a severe reaction to these events. I was afraid to go anywhere, even in broad daylight. I thought that anyone might want to hurt me whether it was a mom pushing a stroller, an elderly gentleman out for a stroll or a tough looking girl or guy my age. If anyone was ever late I would assume that something horrible had happened to them. (I still struggle with this one even today.) I had learned that life could be short and people would sometimes want to hurt you for no reason at all.

As I also explained here, once I started doing TaeKwon Do I began feeling more confident and less paranoid. My quality of life was so much better than it had been in a number of years. I had no idea when I started doing martial arts that I would be a much happier and relaxed person. Perhaps this is the reason that TaeKwon Do is so much a part of me. Why I feel that a part of me is missing when I'm not doing it. Maybe that is why I've been feeling strange lately.

Another thing that I had mentioned at the end of this post was about being afraid. I touched on some of the reasons I thought may have been the cause. Now I'm pretty sure I know what is going on.

The responsibility of being a mother is enormous. The fear I often feel is directly related to that. When I have to go out to my car after work and it's dark and no one is around I find myself thinking “I can't let anything happen to me. A needs me.” It's a feeling I've never had before. After doing TaeKwon Do I began feeling confident about taking care of myself. I never allowed myself to think about the consequences of something happening to me. Now I can't stop. I think about it when I'm driving, when I'm walking, when I'm working. This feeling of being so important, so vital to another person... It's almost suffocating. Yet another thing I hadn't thought about before making this jump into motherhood. Would I go back if I could? No. But sometimes... most of the time, it's pretty overwhelming.