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Apr 26, 2011

Drowning

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As a young child, I loved to swim. On more than one occasion the words “like a fish” were used in discussing my love for the water. I spent my summers at our local community pool, practicing flips and handstands in the shallow waters, and fetching pennies from the pool floor of the five-foot deep area.

I remember one time I was at a party, and the hosts happened to have a pool. All of the kids were in bathing suits, swimming and playing with various pool toys. I don’t remember the details, but at one point one of the preschoolers had thrown some plastic beach-type toys in the deep end of the pool, where they rested under ten feet of water.

I think one of them asked if I could get the toys. Or maybe I just volunteered myself, since I liked helping others and was quite confident in my swimming ability. Either way, I was the foolish kid (I couldn’t have been more than eight years old or so) going to the bottom of the pool.

Never having learned to dive properly, I stood on the edge of the pool, pinched my nose shut, and jumped in feet first, using the momentum to help me sink a few feet into the pool before orienting myself head down and kicking my legs furiously to reach the bottom. Ten feet felt a lot further than I thought it would be.

Once at the bottom, I gathered up the plastic toys, pushed off from the floor and kicked back towards the light.

If you hear my grandmother tell this story, you’d think I nearly drowned. I know I scared her pretty badly. I’m not sure how long I was down there, but it was long enough to worry the adults at the party. When she told the story years later, I laughed it off and said I had it all under control.

The truth, however? I’ve never been so close to drowning in my life as I was in the pool that day.

The deepest pool I had ever been in was eight feet of water. Ten was really pushing my limits. By the time I reached the bottom, I realized I needed to get back up quickly. But I wasn’t going to look like a failure, so I made sure to grab those toys.

As I pushed off from the floor, I could already feel my legs were weakening. Looking up, I could see the light reflecting off the top of the pool, but it felt so, so far away. How did it get so far away?

I kept kicking my legs, but my chest was on fire. My lungs were nearly collapsing in a reflexive effort to take a breath, yet I kept my nose pinched and mouth clamped shut. I was focused on getting to the surface, even though the light at the top looked a little darker and I started to feel lightheaded.

I lost the grip on my nose as my lungs forced air out and I started to panic that I wouldn’t reach the top in time. It was just as water was starting to come into my mouth that I broke the surface, spitting out the water as I gasped for air.

Clinging to the side of the pool, I weakly offered up the toys to their owners and smiled as my heart pounded. Nope, not going to look like a failure today.

I still remember some of the details of that event for a few reasons. First, I’m actually still very scared of drowning, even though I love water. And second, because I think on how many times in my life I’ve nearly (figuratively) drowned because I didn’t want to look like a failure.

Taking on too much is commonplace for me. Like Ado Annie from the musical Oklahoma, I “cain’t say no.” I never want to miss an opportunity, and I never want anyone to think less of me, so I will often agree to do far more than I’m capable of. Problem is, I then find myself at the bottom of that ten-foot pool, wondering how I’ll make it to the top without running out of air.

I look around at other working mothers and wonder how they do it, only to realize that either they’re better at saying ‘no’ to all of the requests on their time, or they’re smiling on the outside while panicking on the inside, just like me. Only they make it look far easier than I do.

One day I hope I can come to terms with the reality that I’m not superwoman, I can’t do it all, and occasionally I do fail miserably. That sometimes you don’t have to be the hero: you can instead hang out in the shallow end sipping a martini while your kids splash around you and let someone better suited to the job  – someone who has practically no chance of drowning – dive to the bottom of the pool.

Filed Under: me me me, memories ·


Apr 25, 2011

I’m A Guest Writer at Diets In Review!

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Hey everyone, I’m branching out a little and sharing what fitness and health knowledge I’ve picked up with an even larger audience. Shocking, right? Despite still being overweight, I have learned a few things about losing weight and getting healthy through the years, even beyond my nursing degree.

So when Carmen from DietsInReview.com (you may also know her as Mom to the Screaming Masses) asked if I’d like to write up a little guest post, of course I couldn’t say no!

(No really, I couldn’t say no to her. Have you seen what she does to stay in shape? Muay Thai. No way I’d refuse an offer from someone who looks that amazing. She could take me down blindfolded and with one arm tied behind her back.)

So if you have a moment, do me a favor and go check out my article on reasons to consider joining a group fitness class. It’ll make me feel all warm and fuzzy that people wanted to read my article, and maybe they’ll ask me to write another.

Filed Under: Uncategorized · Tagged:


Apr 21, 2011

Spring Break is Breaking Me

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I remember when I was in high school and saw a report on the news about the concept of year-round schooling instead of the traditional school year with a long summer break. I was horrified at the idea of having to go to school all year long! I needed that long break from the classroom. Winter break hardly was long enough. Even that one little week of spring break felt like an insult to me.

And now, as a parent with two young children on spring break? Year round school sounds pretty sweet to me. In fact, let’s get rid of spring break, too.

We’re only halfway through spring break and I’m ready to send them back. It doesn’t help that I work an overnight shift, requiring me to either find a babysitter or remain on the couch in a sleepy, hazy fog as I let them destroy the living room and watch far too many episodes of Go, Diego, Go while I try to nap in-between arguments over who gets to sit in the purple chair or who gets to play on the iPad next.

Beyond that, both of my children are creatures of habit who do not like their routines disrupted. Mira isn’t too bad, but Cordy needs her routine. She knows that she has five days of school, followed by two days that are more unstructured. So when Monday arrived and she was on day three of no school routine, she quickly became irritable, hyperactive and whiny. The most exciting thing we did that day was go to the grocery, and even that was a quick trip for fear of child meltdown. The cashier didn’t even card me when I bought wine. He knew.

My mom came over yesterday to spend the day with the girls, and of course the weather was wet and cold, so they stayed in and colored eggs for Easter. If it wasn’t for my earplugs, I probably wouldn’t have had any sleep.

The weather is better today and my mom is coming again (hooray!!) to take them to the zoo. (Double hooray!!) I’m looking forward to sleeping six hours.

Friday, however, will be devoted to my girls. Whatever they want to do, we’ll do. (Within reason, of course.) I feel bad that I’m so tired most of the time and can’t give them the attention they deserve. My mom worked full time, also, and I remember always wanting more time from her than she could give me. When I lose my temper with Cordy or Mira just because I’m tired, I get angry with myself as well because I know that they only want my time. Time is so hard to come by, though.

But I don’t work on Friday night, so I’ll fight the exhaustion to have a fantastic day with my daughters and remember why I love having them around so much.

And then I’ll sign them up for summer camp on Monday.

Filed Under: being a mom, daily life, family time, school ·


Apr 18, 2011

Stalled

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On Saturday my trainer put our class through a workout so intense that we wondered what had happened to put her in such a mood. She made me use 10lb weights this time, really drilled us for proper form, and for some of the advanced people in the class, made them wear weighted vests and during push ups placed 20lb dumbbells on their backs.

It was crazy. But I survived and even felt pretty good at the end. (OK, truthfully I felt beat up. But after a protein shake and some rest I felt pretty good.)

What I didn’t like was my weigh-in. The scale is stubbornly holding on, refusing to move any lower. Expressing my frustration, I whined that I was upset in seeing roughly the same number for the last month. My trainer then suggested I do a three-day diet to “shock” my body back into losing weight.

The three-day diet is a plan the gym suggests to clients who need a little kick in the metabolism. It involves eating a little bit of grains and a heck of a lot of fruits and vegetables over a three day period and nothing else. Fats during that time come only from olive oil used on salads. Protein is next to nothing, which is the complete opposite of the high-protein diet they recommend most of the time.

Honestly? I’m tempted to try it. It’s insane that my weight is stalling out so close to 170. Many years ago, when I lost nearly 80 lb the first time, this was the point I stalled out. The lowest number I ever remember seeing was 168 and that was short-lived. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because I liked what I was seeing and got too comfortable – I remember trying to lose more and getting nowhere. It was as if I was at war with my body, and it was stubbornly hanging on to everything it had.

But I also know that I feel ridiculous for even thinking of trying it. Sure, it would be great to get more fruits and veggies in my diet, but I know that it’s likely just three days of very low calories. Anyone would lose weight like that, right? Also, what are my chances of following it precisely for three days? It’s amazing how long three days can feel when you stare at your dinner of steamed mixed veggies and salad.

I can’t decide if I should try it or not. I did take my measurements and compared them to my earlier measurements, and haven’t really lost much in inches, either. I don’t know if I can squeeze any more time out of my schedule to workout more. So at this point I’m open to trying nearly anything different to force my body to melt some fat, even if it is digging into some farmer’s market produce for three days.

Filed Under: weigh-in · Tagged:


Apr 13, 2011

Geek Squared

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When I graduated from high school, family and friends all asked the same question that every university-bound teen is asked: “What will you be majoring in at college?”

I’ll admit that they were disappointed when I told them elementary education, or maybe liberal arts.

At my graduation party, there were a lot of whispered conversations between my relatives and my mom. “But why THAT?” “She’s selling herself short.” “She’s got so much potential in other areas.”

And then my mom: “I know. But I can’t force her.”

Everyone expected me to become a scientist. Or maybe a doctor. Anything related to the sciences, really. Truth is, I was a whiz at math and science.

Math (other than geometry, which I still have problems with) was a breeze, and even my math teacher was impressed at my speed with calculus proofs. The math award was given out to one senior each year who had the highest math grade for all four years of high school, and that year I was the recipient.

Science was equally simple as long as I avoided physics. (Geometry getting in the way again.) I scored a perfect score on the science portion of the ACT. Chemistry equations were like a second language to me. Some classmates considered me a snob for not helping them balance chemistry equations, but it wasn’t that I didn’t want to help them – I just couldn’t really explain how I did it. I’d try to explain, they’d still be confused, and then at some point the phrase “It’s easy to see” would slip out of my mouth and they’d storm away.

Yep, I was the perfect nerd: good at math and science, poor at sports, and socially awkward. You can guess how many parties I got invited to, and chess club doesn’t count.

But back to college: I wasn’t interested in being a scientist, and becoming a doctor sounded like it would take forever and be boring. I wanted a new challenge, so of course I jumped right into areas where I often did poorly, beginning with elementary education (I wasn’t good with kids), then switching my major to theatre (yes, I have panic attacks on stage) and finally ending with a BA in History, which happened to be my “worst” subject in high school. I didn’t switch majors because I found the others hard – I simply wasn’t as interested and kept trying to find my passion. Or maybe I only wanted to pursue topics that were hard for me.

Of course, a degree in history isn’t very useful if you don’t pursue graduate school, and after one quarter of a dull graduate school experience, I quit. I had a natural talent in technology, so I worked for several years as a technical writer for e-learning courses. My abilities in the sciences came in handy for that job.

I’ve since gone back to school and have that science degree in nursing. I think my family is a little more accepting of my career at this point, if only because my job options are a little more secure. And while I resented their opinions in high school, I’m lucky that I grew up surrounded by successful women who believed that a girl could do well in science. I never experienced any expectations based on gender other than their hopes that I wouldn’t let gender stereotypes hold me back.

As the mother of two daughters now, I can already see their strengths emerging. Cordy has a natural ability with patterns and numbers, while Mira is curious about the world around her and wants to know how everything works. I’ll continue to encourage them in learning about their world, embracing technology, and developing a love for science, just as I was encouraged as a child.

And if they want to pursue degrees in art and classical mythology someday? I’ll try to remind the relatives that they’re free to do what they want.

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This post was inspired by my friend David Wescott and his call to bring together mom bloggers and science bloggers for his #scimom project. If you want to join in, go visit his blog and learn how!

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Filed Under: geek paradise, me me me, memories, school ·