My weekly Wednesday dilemma, should Sarah go to soccer or swim, is usually resolved by the weather man.
This time, by an orthopedic specialist.
Sarah has a strained patella tendon. The good news? It isn’t a tear. The bad news? She won’t be going to soccer or swimming for several weeks.
No one got hurt sitting on the couch. Right?
He did remind me twice that she is to do nothing for two weeks straight. This is the same Doctor who put her in a cast for a stress fracture because “he knew we would be out playing soccer the next day” if he didn’t. There is a note in our file. It says “these people never learn”. Along with an asterisk and a “but they do have good insurance” sidenote.
Hanging out with my buddy Kendall Jackson tonight. Crap.
sitting on the couch eating Cheetos. Right?
Sarah is having an MRI this evening. She royally screwed her knee up the other night playing soccer. Now she can’t put weight on it or straighten it. Fantastic. Looks like swimming once again is plan B. Fingers crossed I am wasting my money on this MRI and it is just a bruised knee. I used my google MD degree today and now I am nervous. Google = torn tendon, torn meniscus, torn ligament, torn cartilage, torn torn torn.
I like to credit the two stress fractures and monkeyed up knee to good parenting. Kids don’t get hurt sitting around the house watching TV. You have to actually participate in life for it to get the better of you. I’ll keep you posted.
When normal people sleep, I like to worry about decisions that I can’t control and don’t even need to be decided this week, let alone tonight. Staring at the ceiling is a bit of a hobby.
Sarah’s has played soccer with the same coach and players for the past four years. As a team they have grown not only as players but as friends. Sarah has always had somewhat iffy footings in soccer. When she was younger what she lacked in talent she made up for in enthusiasm. In the fall of last year she started showing some aptitude but then suffered a severe stress fracture in her foot and spent the remainder of the season in a cast. This was actually her second stress fracture in as many years. As spring soccer moved into summer swimming, I held out hope that she would gain a love of swimming and we could become a three kids swim family and I could give away my soccer mom tiara. Don’t get me wrong, I love soccer but I am also lazy. Unfortunately, Sarah continued a like for swimming.
This year I kept her in both swimming and soccer, both only practiced twice a week and with two fairly short soccer seasons we still had a scheduled I could manage. Sarah’s love for soccer turned into passion and the stress fractures, related to growth, seemed to be a thing of the past. Not only does Sarah adore the sport, her team and her coach, she has also become the lead scorer on her team. And a ball hog. We are working on that.
As we move into summer swimming, her amazing soccer team is looking to move the girls into a select league which will involve more practice, more games and yes you guessed it more money. As much as I would love to say no, the answer is clearly yes. I am very excited for her and to see where she goes in this sport. Her goal is to play soccer at my alma mater. Seeing as I went to college at the beach, at the coolest school, this is a noble goal. I would be happy to visit her there. After she gets through fifth grade of course.
Which brings me to the reason why at 11:47 I am writing this. I am afraid this means letting go of swimming. And it makes me sad. Up until this year I thought swimming was a stupid sport and now I can’t sleep because I am trying to figure out how to let go of the notion that my life would be easier if all three of my kids were swimmers. I need to come to terms with the fact that things are going to get more complicated as the girls grow and become their own people and that the easy way is not the best way.
I haven’t asked Sarah what she wants to do because I know what she will say, that she wants to do both. I don’t think it is practical or possible. Now that I have gotten this off my chest I think I will shop for new shoes.
I think there is a fine line between being proud of your children and bragging about them. In reality, we are all very proud of our children and in the interest of being honest, bragging about them is pretty fun too. Bragging though should be kept to a small circle of people. Like two. Maybe three.
I won’t bore you with the details but I have one facebook acquaintance who posts complete bull shit brags about her child. Everyone who swims with them knows it is bullshit. I have no idea why she does it. Nor do I care.
I want to know why it bugs the shit out of me! It drives me up the wall. I know better. I know I shouldn’t care but I do. And that pisses me off. I know what you are going to say, I should unfriend her or hide her if it bugs me that much. Ok, I find it a little entertaining too. Mostly annoying. Make her stop…
Which my friend Sherry figured out! She went straight to the source – USA Swimming. I bet she peeks at presents too!
I applaud her methods. I try to do the same. There are 3 ways for me to get an accurate time.
1. I look at the electronic board. If there isn’t one I
2. Look over the rail and ask my friend Jenni, who coaches for another team but times my kids. or
3. I try to get the kid or coaches attention. I can read lips if you mouth it really big to me
My husband on the other hand prefers to use his Blackberry (everyone knows iphones are better). I won’t give him too much shit, he reads this but he is the worst timer every. He may as well use and hourglass.
She is swimming 50 back. Shooting for a 35.59. He gets a 35.90. REALLY?
I only care that she gets the zone time because I know she wants it. She has other opportunities and if that really is her time she can totally get it next time right? But, again, this is blackberry time. He may as well have said she got a 42.34 or a 23.45.
Thank goodness I am one of those horrible parents who buys their kid an iphone because I shortly thereafter got a three word text from her. If you have a 12-year-old daughter you know this is chatty for this age.
I GOT IT.
Yeah! I am back on vacation. She got a 35.49.
Zones will cost me about $500! That is about $14 a second. We are going to have to get a few more now. I will have to teach a lot of spim classes to pay for that, although I could stand the exercise after girls weekend! I am very happy for her, she has worked really hard this year with that goal in mind. I applaud her efforts.
Roadtrip baby! Sherry you in?
Did she make zones?
Girls weekend was going well. Did I mention that through sheer dumb luck we had planned this get away over Cinco de Mayo? My personal favorite holiday.
Timing in swimming is everything so after a quick consultation of the timeline I knew 2:30 was the magic hour that she would swim the event she was most likely to make the cut for at this particular meet.
Around 1:00 realized that my iPhone/camera/gps/trip advisor/yelp reviewer was about to kick the bucket. I was in the red zone.
I was able to convince the crew that we needed to head to the room so we could pack up for a trip on the water taxi to a nearby island where we had planned to swim and sun.
I quickly plugged in the phone and then got ready as slowly as humanly possible. I got about 30 minutes of good charge in.
I have no plans to lose or drown my beloved phone and as such knew I needed to leave it behind
As luck would have it the ferry departed at 245. If dad was on the ball I could get what I needed and be on my way.
Timing is everything. Would the Water taxi be early? What if the meet was behind schedule? Could I take hours of not knowing? Was I losing my mind? (the answer to that is yes).
Time to wait.
Wait for it….wait for it….
Girls weekend! Six moms escaping DC, abandoning 18 children with their dads. Someone call child protective services.
As a swim mom, first thing I did, checked the PVS Swimming calendar to ensure it was a free weekend. It was. Check written, plans made. 4 Days in Palm Beach….sigh!
That was six months ago. Three months ago, early bird long course meet added.
I left him anyways, two soccer games, one Bat Mitzvah and a weekend full of swimming. I have been to millions of meets, millions more to come. Missing one wouldn’t hurt me. Would it?
Grace has had one goal for a year. To make Long Course Zones. And this was her first shot to see if the hard work and determination would pay off. And I was in Florida. All the complaining I do about meets is really just lip service. I love them. And I really wanted to see this swim. Don’t get me wrong, I totally got on that airplane anyways! Wasn’t sure how Sunday at 2:30 was going to feel but I knew with the sand under my toes it should feel pretty darn good…
Reminded me of an old song:
But I’m sad to say, I’m on my way,
won’t be back for many a day.
My heart is down, my head is turning around,
I had to leave a little girl in Kingston Town.
Grace would be just fine. But what about me?
Sarah is a self-professed tom boy and refuses to wear pink.
This created a bit of a dilemma for her recently, she wanted soccer shorts and tank top from Justice and the outfit came only in pink. After a solid 24 second deliberation she decided to break her own rule and wear pink.
She wore the outfit to school the other day and on the way to school she was trying to convince herself that she was going to be ok in this newly charter territory. I feel for her, she doesn’t have the best role model with me as a mom. I do own a fitness apparel company and as such tend to spend most of my waking moments in workout clothes. That and the fact that I am a group fitness instructor. I tend to work out about two hours a day and am stinky and sweaty a great deal of time.
As she was rationalizing this in her head she said to me “its okay if I am a tom boy some of the time and dress cute every now and then”. And without taking another breath:
“I mean you look nice every now and then”.
Wow. OK. And there you have it.
In my defense, I may not look nice often but when I do I like to wear dresses and big old platform shoes. I am not a total loss.
Seriously, if my worst crime as a role model for my children is that I prefer to be sweaty, strong and physically active over cute, I can live with that.
Her new outfit though has upped my cute factor at the gym though because when I open my dryer after washing and drying the outfit, I am sprayed with glitter remnants.
I mentioned sleep in my last post. Swimmers are sleeping machines. Our friends son has been known to fall asleep in the car and even at restaurants on the way home from meets and practice.
Our Wednesday night meets are prone to going late in the night. The flyers get to hit the deck around 10 PM most weeks. Last summer little Sophie was sitting in a chair waiting for the clerk of course to come get her. I went to wish her luck and found her legs crossed, elbow propped on knee, fisted hand to temple – sound asleep. I gently woke her up and said “baby you have to swim”. She dove in, swam across the pool – we grabbed our bag and went home. Hey, she got a best time, who is to say her 90 second nap wasn’t just what she needed.
The sleep part of swimming is great. It is the eat part that is hard to keep up with.
filling out the summer pool pass applications.
I have said all along that swim moms have it the worst but no one wants to believe me.
Most swim families spend their entire summer at the pool We show up around 2:00 each day and leave around 8:30 in evening – we close the joint down.
The upside to this is that my kids eat dinner at the pool every night, thus my kitchen stays spotless. We shower at the pool – guess whose bathrooms stay sparkling? The kids will eat anything I put in front of them during the 15 minute breaks so I don’t have to listen to endless complaints about what I cooked and how much they hate it. Sleeping in late in the morning is not a problem.
What is the downside you ask? Bathing suit season for kids also means bathing suit season for mom. Every day. I would love to see Lacrosse Mom go sit at a tournament all day in a bikini. Time to get busy and lose those extra few lbs. Don’t ask me to go to lunch. I am on a “mission”.