Things that scare us, but thrill us when we complete them: part two

It wasn’t until adulthood that I took a hard look at just how much I limited myself to the safe and the known. It’s in adulthood you say, “I wish I ...”

I do wish I’d played sports more and stopped worrying about whether I was good enough. I was never highly athletic, no sports scholarship here, but I played well enough to get by on whatever team I was on. I only did one year of skiing, one of volleyball and one year of field hockey. However, each one came back as a useful muscle memory I put to use in adulthood.

In college we played intermural broomball! It’s so crazy it’s great. You run around the hockey rink in sneakers chasing after a ball with a broom for a stick! Running in that cold environment gave me quick appreciation for what hockey players experience. Although as I played I over analyzed the whole thing, I did have fun. Despite being on an intermural team with varsity soccer and lacrosse players, I managed to keep up and contribute. No, I never scored, but I did get one really good shot on goal in! And we all had fun! Later, my friend Laura would found the Geneseo women’s lacrosse team. It started as a club sport that year and I remember playing around with her and she said I handled the stick as well as the players on the team. One of my sporting regrets is that I never joined that fledgling team. Sigh.

But I started to learn that I could do whatever anyone else did! So at age 26 I taught myself to play in the water, to hold my breath more naturally, and to be confident goofing around. That same summer I white water rafted for the first (ok, only) time. It was in North Creek on the Hudson. I was nervous. My greatest fear was falling out of the boat. I was terrified it would continue on without me and I would never be able to swim back to it. My ex said that I was white-knuckling it the whole time, but he was still excited for me. Later, we stopped in calm waters and jumped out of the boat by flipping backwards over the side. Once I did that I was no longer afraid of leaving the boat and the rest of the voyage was more relaxed. Still, at the end, that beer and steak celebration was satisfying!

So then I skied! Now, at age 10 I joined ski club at school and dutifuly took my lesson at Mystic Mountain, but I didn’t enjoy it. After the lesson I’d sit in the lodge. Somehow, I learned something, because 20 years later I skied again. I took a lesson at age 30 and my body remembered everything. Right away I was doing the proper Christie turn. The instructor was pleased. I was shocked I remembered! I wasn’t even thinking about it, it just happened. So we chairlifted to the top of West Mountain and I did my best to keep up with everyone and I did okay. I had to fall a lot because every time I got going too fast I didn’t want to lose control. One time I got into a field of little moguls and I rode them out. I’d say the moguls were the best. That time around I wasn’t ready to hang out in the lodge. I wanted to play.

I played volleyball for a few years with some friends of mine. Experienced jumping from a boat into a deep lake. Found going fast in the boat thrilling. Actually rode a tube behind said boat while hanging on for dear life. I was hooting and cheering and had a big dumb goofy smile plastered on my face. It was good. And dammit, I didn’t even over think it!

Things that scare us, but thrill us when we complete them: part one

Ever do something outside your comfort zone that at first scared you just to think of doing it, but when you did, you never had so much fun?

I was thinking about how as a kid I never was a thrill seeker. My idea of living on the edge was taking a sled down a snowy hill or riding my bike without a helmet. I didn’t do a lot of things because I always felt they were for other people, or that I wouldn’t be good enough at it so why bother.

But once in a while I did just jump in, and whenever I did, I never regretted it.

In childhood there weren’t too many moments. Perhaps the most notable was not the typical experience for a twelve year old. It involved me, a 1940’s Farmall, a baler and a wagon attached. One hay season we were a little shorthanded, and my dad, level headed, but unafraid, thought it was time to teach me to drive the tractor. That way, he could single-handedly maneuver the hay from the baler to the wagon as I drove the equipment.

Can I just stop to say how awesome that was? At twelve I was somewhere around 5 feet tall and 100 pounds. I was smart, eager to be adult, and cautious. I’d been driving the lawnmower independently since I was eight, and had just started driving the truck in the fields. I was so ready for the responsibility.

The Farmall didn’t have all the fancy bells and whistles of the modern tractor. In fact, the starter seldom worked that most of my memories involve my father cranking it to start. It had a stick shift in some H configuration, a peddle on each side to apply brakes to the enormous rear tires, and a clutch. Fortunately for my five foot self, my legs grew faster than the rest of me and I was able to reach those peddles. Good thing, since much of the hay field was on a hill.

I’m really not sure what was scarier, going up or down. Going up required me being harder on the engine than I thought I should, with shouts coming from my dad to “give her the berries” (that meant slowly keep upping the throttle). Slow it down and strain too hard and the tractor would have stalled and we (meaning: tractor, baler, and hay wagon laden with hay and my dad) would have started rolling backwards into an inevitable jack knife. I learned to throttle. Going down hill meant down shifting and some weird clutch brake combo thing. Frankly, it’s uphill I remember more!

All I know is that when we came back with the wagon full and the job done, I felt like a real woman!

My decision

This post is one month overdue. I’d say it’s been delayed due to the difficulty in sharing the information. Not difficult for me, because once I made my decision I actually felt relieved. I guess I think too much that its difficult to share what I “un-decided”.

I am not going to pursue foster parenting. I was excited by it and during the training last spring I felt invigorated that this was exactly what I was supposed to do. Maybe it was for that nano second window, maybe it was the rebirth of spring that inspired me. It’s hard to say.

It isn’t foster parenting I shy from, it’s parenting in general. I think that given enough hours in the day, and enough money so I could just stay home, yeh, I’d be a good mom. But by myself, and with work? It’s scary to think about it. This whole fall has been difficult. It’s hard enough to get me out of bed at 5:30 and off to work on time. Imagine having a child to get ready too.

And work? Where do I begin? The students are fantastic. I think one of the nicest groups I’ve ever had. But the demand? The state has a new commissioner of education. He’s a charter school guru. It isn’t hard to put this all together. We have state exams, and we were doing well on them; so then they changed the cut so statistically, we were no longer doing as well. Then the special education students weren’t making AYP. Now we are on a list, a list that is a continuum, a continuum that ends with the ominous words: restructure.

And you wonder why last year I kept saying I wanted to be a legal assistant!

Back to parenting: interestingly enough, even though my house “opened” in June, I was only offered a baby in July and never called again. Odd given that all you seem to hear about is the need for foster parents. There is a trend in fostering where children are being placed with their relatives (kinda like the old days). This might be good for many of them, but others need out of the family entirely.

Maybe the Universe was trying to give me time to understand what my purpose with children would be. I think I am more suited to being the auntie than the mommy. I’m okay with that. Auntie is fun, but like grandma she can give them back! And being a mom, especially to a child who isn’t mine, but at the whim of another, would be an incredible stressor. Children are sick constantly! My job would be 30 minutes away and I really have no back up like a big family. Yes I have CK and she is a sister, but that’s not the same as the lucky women with retired parents who are still in their 50’s! I hope they know how blessed they are.

I think at my age you get into routines. I like the predictable and I am a scheduler. I just wanted anyone who reads this to know I am okay with my decision. Not having a child is not a horrible thing. I hope that in my profession I have at least made a positive impact on the students I’ve taught.

October Snow

I really don't have much to say, but snow in October? It was October 27th! There was about 3 inches!!!!! They had to plow! The leaves were still on the trees! It wasn't bad in eastern NY, but in CT and MA they had 2 feet! That's a lot in January!

I'll let the pictures do the talking: