And on the eve of an election, a semicolon...

It's  four a.m. and I can't sleep. Like a new mother, I'm alerting to every sigh and whimper coming from the room of our daughters, now twelve and almost ten. I keep wandering in, covering them, kissing them or stroking back their hair.

In the next twenty-four hours our lives will change. By the following morning, my daughters will either be living in a nation honoring it's first female president or in a nation that chose to lead it a man whose history of objectifying women is fact and common knowledge. We are on the cusp of history in the making ... and I find it painful to leave their room.

A semicolon is a pause in the action, a breath taken in to continue speaking ... tonight I'm stuck in that semicolon, caught between The United States Before the Election of 2016 and The United States After the Election of 2016. I'm struggling to exhale.

This is not a peaceful pause. This place I, we, are stuck should be thrilling and heady for those who choose to vote for Hillary Clinton. Yet for some the alternative scares us so deeply to our cores that the exuberance and joy is tarnished by anxiety and pain. Women and men who have been violated in their past have had that dragged out of their psyches and broken open, not by choice but by a presidential election!

Many are struggling to stay positive, thankful for the chance to connect with others for support and solidarity (I'm looking at you, Pantsuit Nation, currently at 2.4 MILLION members). Many other voters are trying to build back up the boundaries ripped down by this election year.

 I'm both terrified and eager to let go of the Before and see what happens on the other side of this historical semicolon. We have weeks worth of news and debate footage, articles and analysis that could take months to pour over.  It's very rare in life that one gets a chance to record a Before and After that has taken hold of our nation the way this election has.

In the early hours before the polls open, I chose to record the part of this election that mattered most to me. My daughters may never understand why I took pictures of their soft, sleeping faces tonight but staring in the face of such a life-altering After, I realized I needed to record my Before. And somehow find a way to exhale.

Giving Thanks. 2015.

Goals.

I talk quite a bit about goals in this blog. My daughters' school focuses on having GRIT and perseverance to meet your goals. My Jamberry Team Leader offers us training, leadership insights and encourages us to impress the importance of writing down your goals and making them real. But my first adult Goal Epiphany was thanks to Sensei Jimmy Pedro at Pedro's Judo Club in Wakefield, MA. You've read about this in the past here, but hear me out...

Three years ago, my then five year old was begging for martial arts classes. We had tried karate over a summer and something was missing. As my father (and I briefly) had trained  in judo, I knew the differences between the sports. By watching her on the karate mat I saw immediately that what she needed she would find in judo.

But there was a catch. A big, freakin, chronically-ill-mom-walking-with-a-cane catch...

Pedro's Judo is up thirty-two stairs. THIRTY TWO. Straight up, big warehouse style steps. Dang. We'd been to a children's party there that summer and I knew how precisely  how hard  it was for me to get up there and how lightheaded I was when it came time to drive home.

I sat in the small corner office with head instructor, Sensei Riley McIlwain and watched him do a mini teaching session with my little maniac. Oh man, she glowed. She was elated, ecstatic, like I've never seen over an activity. She was HAPPY.

And I felt fear. Deep, cold gut chilling momma-fear that I would let her down.

In that moment, before I ever heard a word about the importance of goal setting, something crystallized in my mind: I would get Maddie to this dojo twice a week, every week, for as long as she wants to train. Period.

In the years following I've had the honor of hearing Sensei Jimmy Pedro and later, Senseis Kayla Harrison and Travis Stevens speak multiple times on the power of goal setting, goal directed guided imagery and their direct impact on success. Tonight, about three years later, I listened as they spoke again.

The past three years have been rough physically - a few times I've sat in the parking lot after class with my head on the steering wheel, crying while I summoned the grit to drive home safely through a blur of fatigue and pain but other nights...

Other nights I open the windows and sing along with the radio at the top of my lungs as the tears pour down my face. I sing to give voice to the pain and anger, the power and grief and the huge, glorious, hard earned pride that stream from me as I make that short drive.

In three years, my daughters have never missed a single judo class because of my body. Twice, then three times, now four times a week, I stand at the bottom of those steps and take a deep breath. When I get up to the dojo, friends and acquaintances ask me how I'm doing and a select few there truly understand how much I mean when I say, "I made it up the steps; it's a good day."

I never knew what Pedro's would do for me, and it happened before my daughter or I ever stepped foot on the mat. For this and so much more, I am humbly, deeply grateful.

Doumo arigatou gozaimashita, Senseis Pedro and McIlwain. See you tomorrow.

Edited to add...
It dawned on me this morning that this goal has accomplished one more thing: through meeting my goal every week, every set of stairs, I model for my daughters an example of a strong, committed, powerful woman. And that's all I've ever wanted to achieve.

Original posts ...
9/20/12 A Goal Set is a Goal Met

11/22/2012 A Goal Set: Thanksgiving Update

11/27/2014 A Heart Full of Joy

A Goal Set is a Goal Met

I was never a stellar athlete.  If you've read my posts and have a grasp of my limits, you'd never believe that I've enjoyed sailboarding, canoeing, freestyle karate, kickboxing, Judo, tai chi, softball, gymnastics, tennis, soccer, competitive ballroom dancing, basketball ... you get the idea. I was never particularly remarkable at any of them but they all added a color to my life that wasn't there before. Still I kept seeking until I found my true love -  yoga. After fourteen years of practice I often wonder, "What if I hadn't been so determined to find my niche?"

The summer my children were six and three, I decided I wanted my kids to try new things during vacation. My eldest had been begging for gymnastics so we opted for that as one activity. For something completely different we decided to add in a summer course of karate at a local facility.

The moment Audrey's feet hit the mats at gymnastics, her eyes began to shine in a way I'd never seen. My sweet six year old had tried many fun activities before but as soon as the novelty wore off, Audrey would become distracted and lose interest. I couldn't believe the difference with gymnastics! Audrey beamed through the whole class and bounded off the mat full of joy and pride at her new skills. Thankfully the gym had fantastic class times and I was able to schedule her at a time when her Dad was home to drive her. No brainer!

Maddie, on the other hand, fell hard for karate. At the end of the summer, I realized I was just not physically able to get her to two karate practices a week during the school year -- especially since I still wasn't driving. I took a deep breath and said, "Someday, but not now." Disappointed, Maddie took it well and over the next two years enjoyed dance, gymnastics and swimming. She excelled at everything and enjoyed her classes but kept asking, "Mom, when can I take martial arts again?"

I had planned to wait until third grade, until she was old enough to understand the commitment that a martial arts practice entails. Maddie had other plans. This July I was blindsided by big blue eyes, pig tails and the firm words I hadn't expected to hear. "Mom, if I quit dance and gymnastics, can I PLEASE take martial arts?" It seemed that my kiddo was ready for martial arts far earlier than I expected.

I remembered being younger than Maddie and my father teaching me Judo falls and rolls to protect a fragile bone in my arm and my husband and I decided it was time. We are lucky enough to have a Judo dojo one town over (within my driving distance) so we set up a trial class for Maddie. There was only one thing in Maddie's way.

Stairs.

The only way to get into the dojo was for me to climb up a monster flight of stairs - and half the classes were at times that couldn't rely on my husband for help. The first time I did those stairs my head spun, knees went weak and my legs turned to jelly. Anyone else could simply work harder and get used to it, but I had to gauge things carefully - would I be able to safely drive home after those stairs? Can I commit to this?

That day I watched Sensei Riley McIlwain work with Maddie on the mat, saw him connect with her and get her to glow with confidence. Sigh. No brainer.

That was a few months ago. Getting up those stairs has never been a "Can I?" Getting up those stairs is a gritted-teeth "I WILL". Last night Maddie had a chance to go to her first open gym class run by the gym owner, Sensei Jimmy Pedro. Among many other accomplishments, Sensei Pedro is a World Champion, twice Olympic medalist and recently coached the 2012 US Olympic team to the first ever US Gold in Judo in London. Open gym generally focuses on one judo technique and one leadership theme, and is open to the smallest Little Dragons all the way up to the blackbelts.

After warming up, Sensei Pedro spoke to the students about the evening's theme: Goal setting. A primary part of studying judo at Pedro's Judo is learning to set goals and meet them. Little Dragons are expected to set a goal with their parents for something to accomplish at home. Together they write it in their attendance book, committing to work on it outside of the dojo. This practice continues no matter your rank or age.

"A goal set is a goal met," said Sensei Pedro, continuing "When you want to accomplish something, write it down. Put it on your door or your wall." I looked at my own Little Dragon sitting next to black belts who had competed all over the world, my own little Maddie, listening to life lessons across the mat from Sensei Travis Stevens of the 2012 US Olympic Judo team.

Those stairs were brutal last night and the effects have hit me hard today. Absolutely too tired to drive, I had to rest for an hour before I was strong enough to load the dishwasher. As my legs wobbled at the kitchen counter I thought back to Sensei Pedro's words last night. "A goal set is a goal met."

Living with physical limits is tough on a person. Duh. But few people think about what life is like for a parent with physical limits. "I'm sorry, we can't..." becomes a standard part of their lexicon. We are not only challenged with raising strong, compassionate children like every other parent, but we are are also entrusted with helping our children grow up resilient, determined, patient, thankful and not resentful in a life that is limited by someone else's pain and weakness. In this house you don't get an allowance for picking up your markers. You pick up your markers because mom uses a cane and could get seriously hurt. Period.

I will get Maddie to Judo, just as I continue to get Audrey to gymnastics. Often I will have to grit my teeth to make those stairs. Sometimes I will really pay for the strain the next day. But last night my efforts were rewarded with seeing my daughter learn more than just Judo from a world class instructor. She wasn't the only one learning from him last night. A goal set is a goal met.

Maddie with Sensei Jimmy Pedro 9/19/2012

Updated 11/22/2012 A Goal Set: Thanksgiving Update

Updated 11/27/2014 A Heart Full of Joy

Updated 6/23/2015 Giving Thanks. 2015.

Letters to my Daughters

Dear Audrey,
Ah my love, it is hard to be different. You are smart and colorful and so incredibly soft inside. I remember you coming home from first grade having been teased about loving the colors chartreuse, vermilion, magenta and aquamarine. You get that from me, love. I remember being called Webster because I loved reading the dictionary. I watch you do these same things, missing the same social cues I missed (and still miss...) and I see a very fancy target painted on your sweet little back.

I see you dealing with bullying in many forms. I see you not understanding how to fit into a group at the playground, feeling left out because you can't figure out how to join in. I hope and pray you find a way to be strong without holding power over someone smaller, more fragile than you.

I have hope.

Not that you will fit in or be any different than you are, or that you will fit in or be any less sparkly than you were born to be. I have hope that you will find other hedgehogs like you. Prickly on the outside, soft and unique underneath. I have hope that the work parents and educators are doing towards changing the face of bullying continues. I hope that no matter who you turn out to be, who you love, how you love, that you will feel strong and confident in your choices and yourself.

I have hope that someday you will talk to your children and try to help them understand how when you were little people were still told who they could love. And I hope it will be so freakishly foreign to them and to you that you have difficulty explaining it all.


Dear Maddie,
You are a such an amazing, vibrant little girl. I see how you walk into a room and instantly have friends, how you find people who are left out and gently ease them into the play. I see your bright mind and hysterical sense of humor and love watching you throw yourself hard into everything you try. I can't wait to see you enjoy work and school in ways I never could. I see you confused by your sister's difficulty joining in, hurt by her prickles, worried for her pain.

My hope for you is that you learn to understand how she feels, how those who are different, excluded, marginalized ... prickly ... that sometimes they are not choosing their path. How sometimes prickles are something they are born with. I hope you find happiness in your strength and not let those who would try, hurt your huge, squishy amazing heart.
~~~

We as adults are spending so much time reading, learning and teaching about bullying. And tonight while I should have been sleeping, I had a thought. If my future teenage Audrey was forced by stronger, more powerful, scary girls to give up a boyfriend she cared about ... that would be bullying. We are giving her tools now in her young life to protect her against those Mean Girls that would belittle her and degrade her choices.

But how is that different than a powerful, scary group of adults telling a person they can't marry their gay lover? How can we claim to teach our children not to bully others when adults still bully adults?

I still have hope. I have hope that small groups of people will make a small difference in small communities. And that small groups will become larger. I have hope that my children will watch freedom and the elimination of social bullying change over their lifetime. I have hope that adults who find their lives fitting easily into the norm, like my Maddie, will find compassion and strength to support those who are less strong and who need advocates.

What can you accomplish...

... when someone believes in you?

Two years ago I began to have difficulty driving. My comfort-level and driving radius began to shrink as my energy, concentration and focus declined. I said goodbye to friends in Framingham, then Arlington... let go of grocery shopping, knitting classes and mom's nights out. Finally I let go of acupuncture and driving the children to school.

I drove as long as I felt safe, pushed myself to every safe limit and even tho I was never afraid I had to admit my abilities had changed.

One year ago, I stopped driving.

I still climbed into the van about once a month and piloted it down the street to the pharmacy or the natural food store to keep my nerve but I returned home each time exhausted and worn.

My family and friends rallied around me, offering rides and company. Some people are homebodies. Some people have to be on the move ... I am the latter. Not being able to hop in my car and drive the kids to the playground or the library was killing me. There is no helpful public transport nearby and nothing we can walk to.

About a month ago something changed. I began to wonder if I could look at this in shades of gray as opposed to black and white. Maybe I could get back to driving just a little bit. Maybe there was something I could change that would make it just a little bit easier.

It. Was. The. Van.

Why the heck do we have a van? My husband's SUV is a decent size for us with plenty of cargo space. I bought the van thinking we'd give rides to the girls' friends in the extra seats. Except... if I can't drive, then I can't drive my own kids, let alone extra kids. It was GREAT to get my heavy-heavy infant and little kiddo into their rear facing seat and I could easily get their double stroller into it. Except... they are bigger kids now, sit forward facing, can climb into their own seat and don't ride in a stroller any more. It was fantastic for carrying my huge babycarrier stash to conferences and babywearing meetings. Except... I don't teach any more because it's too fatiguing.

Why the heck do we have a van?

Huh.

I was torn. Why trade in my van for something smaller, easier to manage when I haven't driven in a year? Should we really be car hunting right after having to replace my husbands car due to an accident? Can I handle the strain of another vehicle search and negotiation?

My husband said Try it. My mom and dad said Try it. I know all three of them said it with reservations ... I know they weren't convinced that a different car would make a difference. But what if it did? Tina and Lise said GO for it!

It had to be small enough that I could maneuver it without too much strain, a seat that was not to high nor too low, large enough to be safe and comfortably hold my family. Oy.

Research, comparisons, eyeballing cars in parking lots led to visiting car lots and then mini test drives (some cars I never even got out of the lot). Until today. Full serious test drive. For an accurate comparison, I drove Maddie to school first in the van. Still completely exhausting.

I know alot of people who get nervous driving a new vehicle ... try doing it out of practice. It was...

GOOD!

I'm not kidding myself. My body, my abilities are still the same. But if I can make driving just a LITTLE easier and be able to drive just a LITTLE bit, I know my family and I will be so much happier.

I know it seems bizarre that I didn't try this earlier but those who know me truly understand how hard I have tried to hang onto every possible shred of freedom these last fews years. And I did try other people's cars but never before realized all the components that impacted my abilities (tinted windows, low/high seats, large size etc).

So thanks, Paul, Lise, Tina, Mom and Dad ... its amazing how a person's life can open up because someone has faith in them and encourages them to try.

Circles.

I've never understood our society's weird perception of grief.

Media ogles unique and exotic griefs. Empathetic strangers share, remotely, safely, the griefs of celebrated popular figures. Yet when it comes to our own griefs, our own losses ... we have no blueprint.

During my graduate degree I was blessed to intern with a children's loss/bereavement homecare program. The words of my advisor resonate with me daily.

There are many griefs in our lives ... the loss of a dream, the loss of a love, the loss of someone we hold in our heart. Many folks think "sadness", "death" when they hear the word grief but for me it is less ominous. Griefs can be those disappointments that hurt our hearts, the fear of pain to come...

There are many ways to cope with grief - too many to count - and no one person can judge the healthiness of one over the other.

One thing my advisor pointed out to me that is irrefutable, however, is the impact that grief has on our Circles.

Who is in your circle? Do you have a large family, a few very close friends, a spiritual community? Are you active in online communities? How does your grief affect your Circles?

When grief strikes most people respond in one of two ways ... some reach out to their circles, often even reaching out to create wider support circles. And others close their circles, connecting closer with those safest for them.

For some communication is therapeutic ... the worse it gets the more they reach out, lean on their widening circle. For others communication is draining ... the worse it gets the more the griever needs to just cuddle their children and turn off the phone.

I observed families through many variations on these themes. Over time I began to observe my own habits. What are yours?

When my griefs are wrenching but I can wrap my head around them - miscarriage, a bone graft, the loss of trust in a loved one - I reach out, widen my circle.

When my griefs are harder to grasp - the impact my health will have on me and my family - I close my circles.

I wish we talked more about grief with kids, with each other. I have so many dear friends who want to know what they can do, how they can help ... its especially hard to grasp if you have never closed your circles yourself. I just need them to know that I love them for loving me and that I am doing ok. This type of coping isn't about denial - neither denial of the problem nor denial of our need for support.

I'm not sitting here grieving over my fears. I'm loving my children, enjoying the energy I have. It's scary, not knowing something so big, that will impact my babies. But I know you are there if I need you :)

Waiting.

A mother spends years, if not decades trying to help their children understand waiting. I have a five year old and an almost three year old ... its always interesting for me to watch them process things similarly, differently.

Some things never change.

Children and adults of every age all have times when they just feel little. Small. I think alot of things that are hard for small children are just as difficult when adults feel little. Frustration, anger, loneliness, fear. We forget our coping skills.

I'm waiting right now. On thursday my neurologist will give me my most recent test results. I say most recent because another battery will follow this appointment. I'm trying not to focus on the fact that she moved the appointment up two weeks and just keeping doing the things I do everyday... and that usually works.

But every once in a while, when I get too tired, too hungry, to overwhelmed, I just feel small ... and I suddenly feel alot more compassion for my two little girls, learning all these things for the first of many times.