Friday, June 8, 2018
Monday, March 5, 2018
My strong-willed, intelligent, athletic, beautiful, almost 6 feet 13 year old daughter wants to attend high school. The mere thought of it terrifies me. It's not going to happen (as long as I'm alive), however I'm willing to compromise to some degree.
I know she wants to go for the sports opportunities and the possible friendships. The thing is, she has both within her current and past daily life now. My husband and I have always been mindful home-school parents. Not your traditional or stereotypical home-schoolers {I won't define or elaborate on what that profile tends to be here}. Nor are our reasons for home-schooling traditional or stereotypical. Neither are our methods and philosophies.
We've always made sure our kids were not only academic, but also they both were/are athletic. And skilled in the various competitive sports they participate.
They both are socially intelligent. Meaning they can have a substantive or silly conversation with anyone. Friendships and quality relationships are abundant in their lives. We are continuously complimented on the human beings we've raised. Though it's an uphill battle at times, we wouldn't trade the honor of being their parents for anything.
Now, when my severely hormonal daughter gets in one of her moods. When she's combative and defiant, and bullheaded, she gears in that sensitive area that will get at me most, "well, I'm going to high school!" - disrespectfully blurted without thought mostly when she's not getting what she wants.
I'm like, she has no idea what school is like. How most traditionally schooled youth would easily trade lives with her. No, we are not wealthy or permissive, but we do make sure she is nurtured and educated and thriving in life. She's never bored or overstimulated.
Parenting is so hard. Days when I feel we got this, we're gliding through tiny parenting obstacles as if we are Teflon, our dear daughter says or does something to place our smug behinds back on that treacherous, hormonal, no-fun roller coaster ride -- instantly back to reality.
Taking her phone, limiting her computer access, giving her written consequences (usually extra research or math assignments), telling her, "NO" is as if we are hanging her by her disobedient tongue. Naked and wet to a splintered wooden post and beating her nonstop with piece of hot metal.
There has to be rules and boundaries and expectations. On top of that, we have to pay attention, meaning not go to sleep at the wheel of parenting.
Even when my daughter died (2000), when my health changed (2014), those unthinkable, unbearable life crisis did not deter us from parenting. All along it's been just us (and hopefully we've been quality role models on how to survive and stay positive regardless).
No, we are not in our kids behinds 24/7 but we are close enough to smell their @#%& if it stinks.
I remember when our 21 year old son was her age. The educational choices were a mild stress even then. Our son wasn't begging to go to high school or anything. But we were contemplating allowing him to attend a local high school then, for the overall experience. Something changed our minds quickly & definitely though. And that was that. We never looked back. He was then tested, later enrolled in our local junior college where he thrived academically, socially. Graduated with multiple degrees and with honors at 16. He is now at a highly ranked college of his choice on an academic scholarship about to graduate this May.
We don't expect our daughter to duplicate our son. However, she is qualified, just as academic (and athletic) as he was/is. So the sky is the limit for her, and as parents, we do have certain expectations. I'm sure once the hormones settle she'll be back to her reasonable and sweet, Care Bear self. But as of now, "beam me up Scotty!"
I know she wants to go for the sports opportunities and the possible friendships. The thing is, she has both within her current and past daily life now. My husband and I have always been mindful home-school parents. Not your traditional or stereotypical home-schoolers {I won't define or elaborate on what that profile tends to be here}. Nor are our reasons for home-schooling traditional or stereotypical. Neither are our methods and philosophies.
We've always made sure our kids were not only academic, but also they both were/are athletic. And skilled in the various competitive sports they participate.
They both are socially intelligent. Meaning they can have a substantive or silly conversation with anyone. Friendships and quality relationships are abundant in their lives. We are continuously complimented on the human beings we've raised. Though it's an uphill battle at times, we wouldn't trade the honor of being their parents for anything.
Now, when my severely hormonal daughter gets in one of her moods. When she's combative and defiant, and bullheaded, she gears in that sensitive area that will get at me most, "well, I'm going to high school!" - disrespectfully blurted without thought mostly when she's not getting what she wants.
I'm like, she has no idea what school is like. How most traditionally schooled youth would easily trade lives with her. No, we are not wealthy or permissive, but we do make sure she is nurtured and educated and thriving in life. She's never bored or overstimulated.
Parenting is so hard. Days when I feel we got this, we're gliding through tiny parenting obstacles as if we are Teflon, our dear daughter says or does something to place our smug behinds back on that treacherous, hormonal, no-fun roller coaster ride -- instantly back to reality.
Taking her phone, limiting her computer access, giving her written consequences (usually extra research or math assignments), telling her, "NO" is as if we are hanging her by her disobedient tongue. Naked and wet to a splintered wooden post and beating her nonstop with piece of hot metal.
There has to be rules and boundaries and expectations. On top of that, we have to pay attention, meaning not go to sleep at the wheel of parenting.
Even when my daughter died (2000), when my health changed (2014), those unthinkable, unbearable life crisis did not deter us from parenting. All along it's been just us (and hopefully we've been quality role models on how to survive and stay positive regardless).
No, we are not in our kids behinds 24/7 but we are close enough to smell their @#%& if it stinks.
I remember when our 21 year old son was her age. The educational choices were a mild stress even then. Our son wasn't begging to go to high school or anything. But we were contemplating allowing him to attend a local high school then, for the overall experience. Something changed our minds quickly & definitely though. And that was that. We never looked back. He was then tested, later enrolled in our local junior college where he thrived academically, socially. Graduated with multiple degrees and with honors at 16. He is now at a highly ranked college of his choice on an academic scholarship about to graduate this May.
We don't expect our daughter to duplicate our son. However, she is qualified, just as academic (and athletic) as he was/is. So the sky is the limit for her, and as parents, we do have certain expectations. I'm sure once the hormones settle she'll be back to her reasonable and sweet, Care Bear self. But as of now, "beam me up Scotty!"
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Omg! Where did February go?
Each new month for me, is like a new beginning of something significant. I feel similar pressures for self-improvement as I do for a brand New Year.
Last month, February 14th was the four year anniversary of my health change. I am glad to report that I continue to improve, I'm doing well actually. Yes, up's and down's but mostly up's, thankfully.
My most recent adventure has been advancing in swimming. In a previous blog I believe I mentioned how I've finally progressed to doing flip turns. Weeks ago I started incorporating flip turns to my 2 hours/4 days per week swim routine.
Flip turns have been a major goal. Being skilled at the quick transition of a flip, then turn, thus continue swimming uninterrupted. Wow, to be where I am now. It's so amazing. Considering I'm a fairly new swimmer. Learned in the summer of 2016. Since then, water has been a gift.
Every non-dialysis day I swim. As long as I don't have any open wounds, I'm in the pool. I was going to add, as long as I have no broken bones, but I proved that wrong. Lately I have been swimming with a fractured toe (which forced me to learn to swim without fin's - which is great). Before that, I swam with a fractured finger (which prevented me from blogging for a while).
I guess I have improved for a new month. Everything depends on ones perspective.
Each new month for me, is like a new beginning of something significant. I feel similar pressures for self-improvement as I do for a brand New Year.
Last month, February 14th was the four year anniversary of my health change. I am glad to report that I continue to improve, I'm doing well actually. Yes, up's and down's but mostly up's, thankfully.
My most recent adventure has been advancing in swimming. In a previous blog I believe I mentioned how I've finally progressed to doing flip turns. Weeks ago I started incorporating flip turns to my 2 hours/4 days per week swim routine.
Flip turns have been a major goal. Being skilled at the quick transition of a flip, then turn, thus continue swimming uninterrupted. Wow, to be where I am now. It's so amazing. Considering I'm a fairly new swimmer. Learned in the summer of 2016. Since then, water has been a gift.
Every non-dialysis day I swim. As long as I don't have any open wounds, I'm in the pool. I was going to add, as long as I have no broken bones, but I proved that wrong. Lately I have been swimming with a fractured toe (which forced me to learn to swim without fin's - which is great). Before that, I swam with a fractured finger (which prevented me from blogging for a while).
I guess I have improved for a new month. Everything depends on ones perspective.
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Today, Valentine's day marks the four year anniversary since my health permanently changed. I am so elated to be alive, to have come so far. It's amazing just how rapidly time flies. So much good/bad has happened in this brief time span. And I recognize the life lessons, the gifts that each experience has presented.
Sunday, February 11, 2018
I did flip turns this morning in the pool during my usual swim!
Each Sunday I attempt this next challenge on my list of things to learn. The pool is less crowded on this day and at this hour.
Routinely I study YouTube swimming videos, Watch the same stroke over and over again. Lately I watch these videos prior to entering pool so that the techniques are fresh in my mind.
Lately I've been struggling to learn breaststroke. Somehow my feet are not doing what they are supposed to do. I avoid spreading my knees and legs too wide, nonetheless. I have yet to get it just right. But optimistic and determined, I feel closer and closer each time.
Right after that surprising first flip turn, omg! I nearly cried, filled with immense joy this morning. Soon as I got my body around for the very first time I came up above the water immediately. Shocked, though yelling, "I did it. I did it!" Swimmers and lifeguards looked in my direction. Possibly wondering if I was okay.
I motioned to one of the lifeguard (who has been kindly giving me pointers throughout my swim quest journey. She also helped my 21 year old son with swimming during his youth). "I turned. I finally did a flip turn. Did you see it?!"
Eventually she stood and watched. Me, hoping to do as well as I think I did it the first time. I proceeded to attempt the flip again. Around again I did it. Though, far from the wall. And not as polished as I'd like, still, I was turning.
I continued to swim my usual laps, happily. Periodically sharing with fellow swimmers my accomplishment. Others knowing of my long-term efforts congratulated me. With each complete lap, I'd flip again. Though far from the wall still, and occasionally experiencing the discomfort from not breathing out through my nose, I tried and tried again.
Each Sunday I attempt this next challenge on my list of things to learn. The pool is less crowded on this day and at this hour.
Routinely I study YouTube swimming videos, Watch the same stroke over and over again. Lately I watch these videos prior to entering pool so that the techniques are fresh in my mind.
Lately I've been struggling to learn breaststroke. Somehow my feet are not doing what they are supposed to do. I avoid spreading my knees and legs too wide, nonetheless. I have yet to get it just right. But optimistic and determined, I feel closer and closer each time.
Right after that surprising first flip turn, omg! I nearly cried, filled with immense joy this morning. Soon as I got my body around for the very first time I came up above the water immediately. Shocked, though yelling, "I did it. I did it!" Swimmers and lifeguards looked in my direction. Possibly wondering if I was okay.
I motioned to one of the lifeguard (who has been kindly giving me pointers throughout my swim quest journey. She also helped my 21 year old son with swimming during his youth). "I turned. I finally did a flip turn. Did you see it?!"
Eventually she stood and watched. Me, hoping to do as well as I think I did it the first time. I proceeded to attempt the flip again. Around again I did it. Though, far from the wall. And not as polished as I'd like, still, I was turning.
I continued to swim my usual laps, happily. Periodically sharing with fellow swimmers my accomplishment. Others knowing of my long-term efforts congratulated me. With each complete lap, I'd flip again. Though far from the wall still, and occasionally experiencing the discomfort from not breathing out through my nose, I tried and tried again.
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
I'm back. From what, I can't explain. Life happens - up's, down's, even sideways.
Finally, I'm inspired to blog. Write about something hopefully others will find inspiring.
After my early morning, 2-hour swim today, a fellow swimmer approached me. Commented on how well I swim. Puzzled, I insecurely replied, "thank you".
She and I continued to chat. We've seen each other during this swim hour but never acquainted ourselves with one another.
During my swim, I was feeling emotionally heavy. Weighted from the recent stresses I've been overwhelmed with [I'll elaborate more once these unpleasant Mother-issues resolve themselves].
Each lap I took, thoughts of fear and worry and anxiety occupied my workout. I feel healthy and safest in the water. In my mind {which resorts back to a horrific childhood}, I keep telling myself that I will survive this. I will be okay. My mother can no longer harm me.
Freestyle, breaststroke, freestyle, breaststroke, with an occasional butterfly, I consistently swam strong and fluid as if my life depended on it.
The woman went on and on about how well and strong I swam. She's watched me each time. And is impressed with what she see's. How I glide effortlessly down the lane. The speed, the consistency.
Yes, my words, but the jest of what she was saying is clear. And my feelings of insecurity slowly evaporated. Not because of someone's opinion of me, but because of my opinion of myself.
I've been overwhelmed by these extra burdening circumstances. That my only control is to stay away and not get involved w/my mother. And here I've been, letting something/someone toxic and nasty steal my joy. My inner peace. And it takes a stranger to help me recognize the destruction I've been allowing.
As the woman and I conversed, I shared with her briefly that it'll be four years this Valentine's Day since I survived a stroke/renal failure. 2014 I couldn't walk, talk, swallow, chew, read, write, etc. And here I am, a fairly new swimmer (learned in 2016), impressing someone with my abilities.
She, with disabilities of her own was inspired. Her eyes watered as she smiled, thanking me for sharing my survival story and being an inspiration to her.
Imagine that. I did something for someone else when I needed something -- maybe the most in that hour. In the end, we helped each other. As I continued to finish off my wet routine, I immediately regained my confidence. Was grateful she saw me and I saw.
Finally, I'm inspired to blog. Write about something hopefully others will find inspiring.
After my early morning, 2-hour swim today, a fellow swimmer approached me. Commented on how well I swim. Puzzled, I insecurely replied, "thank you".
She and I continued to chat. We've seen each other during this swim hour but never acquainted ourselves with one another.
During my swim, I was feeling emotionally heavy. Weighted from the recent stresses I've been overwhelmed with [I'll elaborate more once these unpleasant Mother-issues resolve themselves].
Each lap I took, thoughts of fear and worry and anxiety occupied my workout. I feel healthy and safest in the water. In my mind {which resorts back to a horrific childhood}, I keep telling myself that I will survive this. I will be okay. My mother can no longer harm me.
Freestyle, breaststroke, freestyle, breaststroke, with an occasional butterfly, I consistently swam strong and fluid as if my life depended on it.
The woman went on and on about how well and strong I swam. She's watched me each time. And is impressed with what she see's. How I glide effortlessly down the lane. The speed, the consistency.
Yes, my words, but the jest of what she was saying is clear. And my feelings of insecurity slowly evaporated. Not because of someone's opinion of me, but because of my opinion of myself.
I've been overwhelmed by these extra burdening circumstances. That my only control is to stay away and not get involved w/my mother. And here I've been, letting something/someone toxic and nasty steal my joy. My inner peace. And it takes a stranger to help me recognize the destruction I've been allowing.
As the woman and I conversed, I shared with her briefly that it'll be four years this Valentine's Day since I survived a stroke/renal failure. 2014 I couldn't walk, talk, swallow, chew, read, write, etc. And here I am, a fairly new swimmer (learned in 2016), impressing someone with my abilities.
She, with disabilities of her own was inspired. Her eyes watered as she smiled, thanking me for sharing my survival story and being an inspiration to her.
Imagine that. I did something for someone else when I needed something -- maybe the most in that hour. In the end, we helped each other. As I continued to finish off my wet routine, I immediately regained my confidence. Was grateful she saw me and I saw.
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