Falling Down - December 16, 2016
I don't brag on my children often enough. Mostly because it's obnoxious and no one cares. But today, in the midst of of horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad week; I'm going to brag on my kids.
My youngest daughter is a gymnast. Gymnastics is her life. Four days a week, I pick her up from school and I drive her straight to the gym. She puts up her hair and eats a snack on the way there. She practices for 3-3.5 hours, depending on the day. She comes home, eats dinner, does homework and goes to bed.
It is so physically demanding. There are some days that she takes a hot shower and I message the knots out of her back and shoulders. I rub her down with Bengay. Some days she comes home with rips on the palms of her hands. She has 5 right now. Sometimes, when gymnasts work on bars, the skin on their palms literally just rips open and bleeds.
We wash them, put antibiotics on them and do hot tea compresses. Still, she practices bars.
When she broke her finger in July, the doctor told her that she had to stay off her hand for 10 weeks and she was devastated. She could not train on vault, bars or do any tumbling. She went to practice anyway- conditioned to keep her muscles strong and did what she could. Once she was cleared, she has worked hard to play catch up. She just moved up levels and had new skills to master. Bars have been a challenge for her. She fell from the high bar quite a few times. She's doing private lessons now just for bars. She does gymnastics 13 hours a week.
You NEVER hear her complain. NEVER. She loves it, would do 7 days a week if she could. In addition to her grueling training schedule she somehow manages to pull straight A's. I don't understand how she does it. I tease her when she brings home her grades. "Really? You only got a 102 on this test? You should have gotten a 105! How are you ever going to get in college with grades like these?"
This past weekend, she had a competition. She is not competing in bars right now, which means she is taking a 0 in that event. There are 4 events - it is a quarter of the score. So, she knows by default her overall ranking is going to low or last. You have to get a near perfect scores in all other events.
She went out there and tried her very best. I thought she did great. She's really improved and I was crazy proud of her. Her scores were good, but not fantastic. When they did awards, she didn't place in any events (which she is not used to). When they ranked over all, she was in last place. The very last slot.
We watched her standing there up there, which her chest out and her chin up but with a look of humiliation and defeat. I could feel my heart sink into my stomach.
We met up with her afterward, and she was silent. She is not a crier when she gets upset. She gets angry. We sat down in the car and no one said anything for a while. At last, I said, "I thought you did really good. I'm proud of you."
She put her head down and talked quietly, "You have to say that because you're my mom. I let my team down. I'm not any good."
"That's not true! You just moved up, you're playing catch up from your injury. You're a good gymnast. You have a lot more competitions."
"Just don't talk, mom," she yelled. Then, she proceeded to stare out the window listlessly. I was emotionally disturbed.
We picked up Jimmy Johns for dinner (she LOVES Jimmy Johns) and went home. I let her be. She ate, took a shower and got into her pajamas. Later, she came into my room. She was hurting. She climbed into bed with me.
"How are you doing, baby?"
"I'm okay."
"Wanna watch your videos from the competition?"
She shrugged. "Sure."
We watched them and she was so hard on herself. "I bent my leg here, didn't land that good, that dismount is terrible!"
I closed my computer and she sighed, "I'm going to have to work on this, this, this, and this...."
My heart ached. "There are many gymnasts who will never know what it's like to stand at the top podium. You have been very lucky. You've had a lot of challenges this season. Keep going. You can do it!"
I don't know if she was convinced but she gave me a half hug and went to bed. Then when practice rolled around the following week, she walked into the gym confidently. To push herself harder, to do better, to try again.
I am so impressed by her. By her ability to get physically, mentally and emotionally beat up regularly and just keep moving. She is strong as hell. She is fierce. I love her so much. I know before long she will be swinging from that top bar like it's nothing. I'm going to be cheering her on from the stands!
It's not been a better week for my 12 year old. She is all about music and band. In between gymnastics runs, I am shuttling her home from band practice. She is always playing her flute. She has been preparing for all-county auditions. I found myself last week humming the audition solo. That's how much I hear it. I've had to institute a no-flute playing policy in the car. It sounds good but it so LOUD. "Can I just finger the keys then?" she asked.
When she is not playing the flute, I have to hear about the flute. About how much she wants a new piccolo, about the new classical music piece she's discovered. She has grown very fond of classical music and orchestras. I'll go into her bedroom in the evening and she'll be on the floor with paper's all around her and headphones shoved in her ears. "Whatcha doing?"
She'll look up at me and say, "Just finishing homework and listening to some Bach."
Not something you would expect to come out of a seventh grader.
The audition day came around and she cried afterward and told me she bombed it. She over exaggerates, so I wasn't sure. "Let's just wait and see," I told her. That pacified her.
I found out before she did and I locked myself in my bathroom and had a good cry for 1/2 an hour. I knew she would be devastated. The results were to be posted at school right before lunch so I brought a pizza and took it to school to have lunch with her that day. I sat at the back of the cafeteria with a knot in my stomach, waiting. She walked through the door with tears streaming down her face. I pulled her out into the hallway and she collapsed into me. I had to hold her up as she sobbed. She is my crier. I think to say she was devastated is an understatement. We stayed out there for what seemed like a long time. I didn't say anything. I just let her cry. Then I told her to go into the bathroom and wash off her face. We went in to eat our pizza.
She didn't say much, she pouted and took small bites. She told me how disappointed she was and that she was embarrassed. What can you say? I don't tell my kids that it's okay. Because it wasn't okay. It was painful. "You'll get through this. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next week but eventually you will. You just had a bad audition - that doesn't mean that you're a bad musician. Heck! Micheal Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team."
"Can you please take me home?" she asked.
"Yes." I did, I signed her out. She would have been worthless at school the rest of the day, anyway.
We drove home in silence. She stared out the window, despondent and wiped tears from her cheeks. I was dying inside.
She went up to her room for a while and then came out in her pajamas. She came in and sat on the edge of my bed. She was puffy and looked completely empty. "I just want to go to sleep."
"You can, baby. Lay down."
She slept for a while. I woke her up to tell her I was leaving to pick up her sister and take her to gymnastics. "Don't leave me. Can I come with you?"
We dropped off her sister and then she asked if we could got to Starbucks. "I need chocolate and caffeine."
"Me too! This week has been horrible. It's been like shitty McShitShit."
"Yea! Today sucks. It's the worst EVER!"
We chuckled. It really has been terrible.
She had dance that evening and even though she REALLY didn't want to go, she put on her tights and leotard and went. She was in better spirits when I picked her up. She chatted excitedly about a new dance she learned and her friends.
I went into her room before bed that night and I laid down next to her and played with her hair.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay."
"You ready for school tomorrow?"
"I guess."
"You will get through this. You just had a bad audition, not a bad life. You walk into school tomorrow with your head held high and if anyone tells you that they feel bad for you-you smile back and them and you tell them "Don't." You turn your disappointment into hunger-to do better and to work harder. Be strong, and be fierce!"
She smiled, "I'm going to do it."
"And I know it's super hard but be happy for the people who did get in. It's good juju."
"Like juju on that beat?"
Then she said something that I did not expect. "I'm going to go to the concert and cheer them on."
I was like, Whoa! You don't need to do that. That's going a little overboard.
"Are you sure you want to do that?"
"Yes. I just had a bad audition but a lot of my friends did get in and I want to watch them perform and support them."
THAT- ladies and gentleman- is what you call a class act. She may be my crier but she is STRONG and above everything else, she is kind. I love this child so much.
Then, she added, "Can we bring cute high school band boy with us? He might want to go too."
Cute high school band boys make everything better.
The next day, when I pulled in front of the school, I gave her a big smile. "Hold your head high and BE FIERCE!" She gave me a smirk and a nod.
It is so hard to see your kids struggle. To see them deal with defeat, disappointment, heart-break, self-doubt; to know that there is nothing you can do to take it away. When they were babies I thought it was HARD. The sleepless nights, the monotony of life. But this is what is REALLY hard - the helplessness of being a parent of older children. To not be able to fix and take away their pain... and it is only going to get harder from here.
This is life. Life is full of loss and disappointment. I mean, get used to the taste of shit because life will serve you one shit sandwich after the other -guaranteed! They have to go through these times to grow as people, to learn to cope, to develop a sense of humor and mild depression like everyone else. You can't appreciate the good times without the bad.
It is easy to be proud of your children when they are doing well. When they bring home awards, and accolades and straight A's. It's easy to be proud when they are winning. I am proud of them always. Even when they are losing, even when they are last last place. To see them fall down but pick themselves up and keep marching forward, to watch them walk through their losses and disappointments with the commitment to do better and not give up, to smile even when things seem bleak - THAT is a reason to brag and be proud. Damnit! I am.
I love these girls and can't wait to see what they'll do next.
Reflections- December 14, 2017
The past few weeks have been especially busy for us. Two Friday's ago, my daughter performed in the Nutcracker. We went to see it last year and she jumped at the opportunity to audition this year. She was picked to be an Archangel. The Friday afternoon of the performance, I picked her up early from school and drove her downtown to the theater. It was held at the Sottile Theater which is an absolutely stunning venue.
We explored the bowels of the theater until we found the dressing room for the angels. There was a vanity table with a mirror and lights. She set her things down.
"Okay, get on your leotard and tights."
She pulled out her leotard and tights and then looked up at me, panicked. "Mom, I grabbed my black leo instead of my nude leo."
"What? How did this happen? You grabbed your new tights. The leo was in the SAME bag."
"I don't know. What am I going to do?" She was 2 seconds away from a nervous breakdown.
"Put on your black leo for rehearsal and I'll go get your nude one. Just be calm."
"I'm so sorry mom....."
"It's okay," I replied, while literally running out the door. I was annoyed but what could be done? She had to have it.
I don't live right down the street. It's a 25 minute drive with NO traffic and it was a Friday afternoon at 3:30. I knew I was f*cked. Somehow, by the grace of GOD, I got home, grabbed the leotard and got back downtown in 53 minutes. Then, I had to drive all the way back home to feed kid #2, meet up with my husband and get dressed for the performance.
So my Friday afternoon looked like this: drive from home-to downtown-to home-to downtown-to home-to downtown. It SUCKED hard.
By the time we got downtown to watch the performance, the stress of my hectic afternoon had melted into excitement. We were ushered into the theater and took our seats. It was a few minutes before curtain and I turned to my husband and said, "I think I'm going to get a glass of wine."
As soon as the words left my mouth, the fire alarm rang out and they evacuated the theater. This is the kind of sh*t that only happens to me. So, we were ushered outside and the crowd huddled together on the sidewalk. A bunch of firetrucks showed up. Our daughter came to find us. She looked so pretty in a gold dress, gold glittery head piece, and full hair and make-up. She really did look like an angel. We hung out for a while until they cleared the theater and let us back in. The show started an hour later then scheduled, but the show must go on.
I hugged my daughter. "Break a leg!"
It was a great show. My daughter performed in the second act. The curtain came up and there she was- with the other angels, doing leaps and turns. I was insanely proud of her.
We met up afterwards. "You did great. I brought you flowers but I forgot them at home because it was a crazy day." I'm the worst mom ever.
She laughed, "That's okay. But mom, remember when we came to see the Nutcracker here last year?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I said that I wanted to dance on that stage one day and I did it."
I smiled, "Yes, you did."
We rolled up to the house at 10:45 pm. I was exhausted. My youngest went on to bed. My oldest dropped her dance bags at the door and declared, "It's time to play my flute."
"It's so late. You have to march in the parade in the morning. We have to leave here before 8."
"Mom, I have to. I'll get up. It will be fine."
I fixed her dinner (she was too nervous to eat what I had packed) and she ate and practiced her flute. She finally showered and went to bed around midnight.
We were up bright and early the next day to get her to the school for the parade. My husband and youngest met us for the parade and my little one was made out like a bandit with the candy. The mayor handed her a full size Hershey bar.
My husband leaned into me, "You want to be mayor- don't you?"
"Ummmm, no. I want like, a thousand naps."
After the parade, he took the youngest home to pack for her gymnastics meet and my oldest had band pictures, followed by a mock audition, followed by a flute lesson. After ALL that, I drove her to her dance friend's house because we were going out of town for her sister's state gymnastics competition and she had to dance the following day at Christmas Made In The South.
I drove straight home, ate quickly and then we loaded up the car and made the 3.5 hour drive to Greenville. We had one of our daughter's teammates and her mother with us and we had a good time chatting and listening to music. By the time we got to the hotel, I was deliriously tired. I don't even remember walking up to the room. I slept for 10 GLORIOUS hours. I woke up refreshed and ready. It was the last meet of the gymnastic season - state.
I got up before my husband and daughter and went down to treat myself to a waffle and a cup of coffee. When I came back up, my daughter was out of the shower and in her leotard. "Do you want me to do your bun?"
She rolled her eyes at me, "Ewwww. No." That's my kid.
We got to the gym and checked in. She was a little nervous but was in good spirits. We took our seats in the stand and waited. Gymnastics competitions are sitting for 2-3 hours to see your kid perform for a total of 5 minutes. They did floor first. I was so nervous for her. I act like an insane person when she competes. I can barely watch. She did a beautiful routine and we waited for the score - 9.45. We were like:
That's pretty good. She'd be one to beat.
They did the other events. Bars is the event where she struggles the most. Last season was ROUGH for bars. She wasn't even competing bars this time last year. She worked so hard to improve, last season she was doing private lessons on Saturday mornings, she set small goals for herself - jumping to the high bar, improving her casts....At the last state meet she got a low bar score but she was happy. She completed the entire routine. We celebrated progress.
She completed her bar routine - it was in the low 8s. Not enough to place in that event but she met her goal. She aims for 8's and above. The last thing she competed was beam. I watched her during warm up. She did a hand stand, stood back up and looked straight at me. "We have to move. She can't see me while she competes. I'm going to make her nervous." I moved to the other side of the gym. I'm superstitious like that.
She did a beautiful routine. We were proud. We made our way to awards and waited for her division to be called. She didn't place in bars but she placed 6 in vault, 2nd on beam, and then we waited for floor. The girls were called up one by one and then they announced, "and your state champion for floor......"and they called my daughter's name.
I watched her come from behind the curtain and stand on the top podium. They put the medal around her neck, then she thew her hands in the air, looked right at me and smiled. I cried. I watched her get so beat down last season, I watched her struggle so much and she needed a win. She has worked her ass off. I felt so much joy in that moment.
Afterwards, we met up and gave her congratulatory hugs. "I saw you, mom. Why were you crying?"
"Because I was so happy." She didn't roll her eyes at me - but she did smirk. It was a good day.
She is not competing in the spring. She is going to focus on bars and upper-level skills which will be good for her. Gymnastics nationals are in North Carolina this year, I'm going to take her for her birthday. I think we are going to send her to UNC for camp this year-lots of exciting things happening. She wants to do gymnastics in college. Statistically, it's a long shot. But you know what? I don't care- if that is her dream, then she should go after it. Nothing is impossible. I can't wait to see her do her upper level skills. She is a tough cookie and I am so damn proud of her.
The following week was busy too. Full of holiday preparations, doctors appointments, band practices, dance rehearsals...and always gymnastics. All-County band auditions were Saturday. I am still completely traumatized from last year.
When my daughter didn't get in, she was devastated. She was the only flute that did not get in. She was last chair. She was depressed for weeks, she was felt completely beaten down and devastated. But then she stood up and said, "Screw this! I'm a good flute player!" It lit a fire under her. It prompted us to invest in flute lessons. What a blessing it has been! She LOVES her flute teacher. He is like a celebrity to our family. He helped her improve so much, he believes in her, he pushes her. Her band directors encouraged her. She's had a lot of support and she has worked her ass off.
She DID go to the concert- the only flute not included, and she was happy for her friends, she waved from her seat, she enjoyed the music, there was not a tear. I knew then, that she was strong. She practiced, and practiced, and practiced. She's become a little obsessed. When she attended music camp in the summer, she auditioned and got into the upper level band. She auditioned for a solo and got it. It was awesome to see her stand up and play her solo at the end of camp performance. We celebrated the small victories.
So, here we were again- All-County auditions. She's been playing and playing and playing. I'm talking over an hour a day after school. HOURS on the weekends. "Do you think you'll get in?" I asked.
"Yeah, I just want to get in. I think I can get in the top 5. If I can get in the top 3, I'll just die."
"Well, don't do that," I said.
The day of auditions came. I picked up some of her friends that were auditioning and we made the 45 minute drive. She unpacked her flute, played her scales and her solo and then went to audition. "I love you. You play a beautiful flute, just do your best - I'm proud of you no matter what." Then, I watched her walk out the door. I waited nervously. I could barely stand it. She came back, cool as a cucumber.
"How did it go?" I asked.
She shrugged, "I think I did good."
Well, okay.
After the kids auditioned, we went to Taco Bell (I know, gross but delicious at the same time) for a quick lunch and then my daughter changed into her dance costume in the car because she had a performance that afternoon. We dropped off kids and went straight there. That's our life.
We waited a few days for the results. It was nerve wracking. Rumors swirled. On Tuesday, my youngest was invited to lunch to celebrate a friend's birthday so I went to the school to wrap up some loose ends with the band fundraiser. I think I low-key harassed the band director about posting results.
At the end of the day, he got the green light. He printed them out but wouldn't let me see them until he posted them. I looked up and I saw my daughters name at the top. Not only did she make it into the All County band this year, she is first chair. I just couldn't handle it. I cried.
I texted her right away: HE POSTED ALL COUNTY RESULTS.
WHAT CHAIR AM I?
COME DOWN AND SEE.
It didn't take her long. She ran up, saw her name and smiled. Then she saw me and she ran over, threw her arms around my neck and sobbed. Deep sobs. All of her disappointment, frustrations, hours and hours of practice and work seemed to pour out of her. It was like a long exhale after holding her breath for an entire year. It was vindication. I was so happy for her. Words cannot describe.
But now, it's time to look forward. She saw her score, "I need to get 13 more points. I want to make all-state call backs. Just 13 points. I can do it. Then Governor's School Audition, then after that I need to start working on my high school scales....."
She wants to do music. Making all-state call backs is a lofty goal but you know what? Go for it. Why not you? Anything is possible.
I think my kids have learned a lot this year about persevering, about hard work, about not giving up on your dreams, on getting up after being knocked down, on turning your failures into opportunities. They are young-their books have not been written. I do believe that the world is full of abundance and that nothing is impossible. This life is not a sprint, it is a marathon. Everything happens for a reason. I just feel so blessed that I get to walk it with them. They are my dream, my passion, my greatest life's work. I love them so much.
They need to stay humble, stay focused, and set new goals. I'm a sucker for happy endings and I'm so glad they both got one this year.
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